Moon Phases (Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader)

Chapter IV.

You followed everyone down the stairs, eventually ending up in the spacious basement beneath the house.

You glanced around, seeing the many piled-up items and household appliances, such as a washing machine and a dryer.

You suspected that when Agatha had her powers, that place was her lair, her witchy basement, as the cliché media would call it. You also had one, though yours was mostly a storage space for your crystals and trinkets, and you had some hand-drawn star maps.

One would be surprised by the ways you spend your rather prolonged life.

Mrs Heart, or better yet, Sharon, your supposed Green With, remained clueless as ever while looking around at the slightly dark but ordinary basement.

"So, um, are we doing laundry together?" She asked, looking from the washing machine to the witches in the room.

Agatha realised the boy was still with them and cleared her throat, earning his attention. "Why don't you head upstairs and let us do our thing, okay?" She asked, trying to sound at least a little bit nice so he would not argue.

He did try but ultimately gave up, realizing he would not win this argument. If he could be honest, he hadn't won any other arguments.

"Okay, but you'll let me know..." he commented, trying to remain positive and not think the women would dump him behind.

"Yep. Yeah. Scoot. Scoot."

You watched him go up the stairs again, your gaze lingering on his retreating form for a moment longer than you wanted.

You could not help but shake this feeling that there was something more about him. It also settled wrong the idea that Agatha kept him around because that was not like her.

Yet again, this could all be your buried jealousy at the fact that you might have been replaced. Or worse, that boy had some connection to her, a sign that she had found someone else to love, worship, and spend her time with...

Someone else that was not you.

"Sugar," her voice bypassed the rising waves crashing against the walls you had lifted around your heart.

You graced her with your attention, realizing the others were already standing in a circle around the drawn symbol of a door on the floor beneath them.

Agatha kept your gaze, a silent and passive act to ensure you were okay. She never showed her worry often or in ways you would expect, rather all being subtle and too quick to dismiss.

Yet you learnt to understand and notice them, appreciate the lengths she would go to try and show her concern without ruining her projection of the cold-hearted woman to the others.

Ironically, you were rather similar.

There were times when your actions and replies were cold, losing any warmth. Other times, your actions were sweet and passionate, going the extra mile to show your concern, care, and love.

You took your place right by Agatha's right, a small distance between you and her. On your right was Lilia, who was observing you a little too much and yet said nothing.

As if her thoughts were forbidden to be spoken out loud, her theories and questions too sensitive and dangerous to be brought up.

You didn't chase it either, for there were more important things to focus on, like opening the door to the road before your time was up.

That howl you had heard before was a mere warning of what was coming, and it was too close for your liking.

"So, all we need to do is sing the Ballad, and a door will appear, and we'll be on our merry way to having all of our magical dreams come true", Agatha explained to the other witches. "Okay? All aboard?"

Of course, Jen had to comment yet again. "So, who's going high?" she asked, earning an eye roll from Agatha.

Sharon looked at her, confused. "Oh, no, thank you. I don't take drugs."

You let out a sigh and chose to help with the situation. "She's talking about the harmonies." You explained.

"I'm an alto, is all I'm saying."

"Ladies," Agatha drew everyone's attention, having grabbed an old summoning bell. "Shall we start?"

There were no more arguments, a sign that everyone was ready.

You looked at Agatha, who gently tapped the bell. Its sound vibrated across the silent room and through your core.

Then she started to sing, being once again the one to lead the ritual.

Seekest thou The Road
To all that's foul and fair
Gather sisters fire
Water, earth, and air

Darkest hour
Wake thy power
Earthly and divine

Burn and brew
With coven true
And glory shall be thine

You could not help but stare at her and hear her melodic voice gently carried across the room without much effort.

You always found her singing voice as enchanting and commanding as her real one, something you often could have difficulty resisting.

Sometimes, she would gently hum a tone after an eventful night while you laid your head on her lap, and she gently passed her long, expert fingers through your hair.

It often impressed you how those fingers could find different ways to make you beg, moan or lullaby you to sleep, always accompanied by that bewitching voice you could never forget or even get out of your head.

At Last, your part came, and you, along with the other witches, continued singing the Ballad, your voices mixing in a haunting tune. The words of the song always warned of what you would all face down the Road.

Even Sharon, who at first only watched, ended up singing along, carried by the melody that existed in your hearts and magical cores.

As you glanced around, hands touching and holding, you sang without much thought. Your mind drifted to a memory, the first time you and Agatha tried the road.

You had stood in a similar formation, though instead of a basement, you were in the middle of the woods. Red and yellow leaves had been pushed to the side, giving you a clean patch of dirt on which to draw the road's figure.

You all sang with the same passion; the full moon above you lit exactly the door, and you could all see the white lines glowing with power as you summoned forward the door to glory and death.

Down, down, down The Road
Down the Witches' Road

Follow me, my friend
To glory at the end

The song ended, and you could feel the magic in the room, your own magical core vibrating with power and life.

And yet, when you opened your eyes and let go of the hands you were holding, you realised the door was not glowing or manifesting.

It remained a simple chalked drawing, earning disappointment and confused looks at the failed attempt.

[A/N] - In this story, the Road is a real place that Agatha and Reader have visited once. The other times Agatha ever used it, she never let other witches get into it before killing them by drawing their powers; Reader was never present in those scenes.