And Hell Came With Him
A compilation of John Constantine's days at Hogwarts
00 Four Letters
/The First Letter/
Dear Mr. Constantine,
I am writing to request a favor. I am aware you don't like "fancy talk" or "beating around the bush" so I shall get right to the point.
I'm in a bit of a pickle. I need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher and it seems reliable candidates are scarce these days. Most believe the job to be cursed I think.
Which brings a certain memory of mine to mind. You had yourself a bit of trouble with pickles a while back didn't you? Funny thing about pickles, you can never get rid of them yourself. You also specialize in curses don't you Mr. Constantine?
Send your response back with Dante (the owl sitting at your desk) at once. I'm afraid he won't leave you alone until you do. He's quite the stubborn creature.
I appreciate you time and consideration.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian DumbledoreHeadmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
"Ah! Blood fucking bird, will you SHUT UP!" John Constantine ripped off his shoe and chucked it at the incessant owl. It ducked and the shoe flew over its head and out the window. Muttering, John stood and stomped across the room in his socks to his desk. He grabbed a rumbled piece of paper sitting on top of all the others. Across it, stamp in large red letters were the words TAX NOTICE. John turned it over and picked up a pen. Still muttering he began scribbling across the back. "Leave it to that old goat to contact me with the only form of post that bites." he grumbled.
"Hoot!" The owl chirped defiantly.
"I'm goin', I'm goin'." John rolled up the piece of paper and tied it to the leg the owl outstretched for him. "Now get outta here!"
The owl bobbed its head once and took off, disappearing out the window. John stuck his head out after it and look down…
…down at the concrete four stories below…
…four stories below at the dumpster…
…where his shoe had landed.
/The Second Letter/Dear old fart,
Thanks for the fuzzy reminder of our wonderful time together in France. If I ever need to be crucified by kitchen utensils again I'll let you know.
Keep your damn pickles; I've got enough of my own. You can't give me a good enough reason to take your bloody job, so don't try.
Hellblazer of Anywhere I Bloody Want
Dumbledore chuckled to himself and put the letter down. John had always been so gifted with words.
He fed Dante a tootsi roll, gave it his reply, and sent the owl on its way.
/The Third Letter/
Dear Mr. Constantine,
Your ever-patient friend
John let his head fall forward onto the desk with a thump and cast an angry eye on the less patient owl beside him…
/The Final Letter/
Dumbledore nodded and let the owl find it's own way back to the Owlry. Fawkes trilled a curious note from his perch. Dumbledore looked up at his phoenix.
"Hogwarts has a new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher" He said.