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You know some chick named Her-maya-knee?
It was the only text Dean could have sent that would have stopped Sam, and stop him it did, pulling the borrowed car onto the side of the road as his stomach clenched. He had hoped Dean would never find out about Hermione, who had been visiting him via a vanishing cabinet hidden in Gryffindor tower for over a year before she was forced to go on the run and he had lost contact with her. In the time since he threw himself into his studies, busied himself applying to universities and deciding where to go, basically doing whatever he could to fulfil the promise he made to her before she ran that he would not put his life on hold waiting for her. His hands were shaking and it took much longer than it should have to manage to dial his brother.
“She's there?” he replied in greeting after Dean picked up.
“No, she left. Bobby and I found her sneaking through the house looking for you. Luckily Bobby didn't seem surprised to see her.”
“Yeah, I warned him she might show up. What did she want?”
“She...” Dean stopped and cleared his throat. “She said there was some big battle at a school. Asked us if she could bring a couple kids to safety, that there wasn't much time before some immortal evil wizard showed up to fight.”
Sam felt his breath catch and his heart skip a beat as Dean paused, and Sam instinctively knew there was more, and it wasn't good.
“She thinks it's going to be a slaughter,” Dean continued, a hint of sympathy in his voice. “She doesn't expect any survivors.”
“But she went back?”
“Yeah, she did,” his brother replied, and to Sam's surprise he heard a hint of respect in his brother's voice as he said the words. Dean might not like witches, but Sam knew he would respect anyone who wouldn't back down from a fight even if it meant their likely death.
The world seemed to go dim, the color dulling before everything went fuzzy as tears formed.
“I know you wanted to get away for a couple days, but she left these kids here...”
“I'm on my way,” Sam promised before hanging up. He closed his eyes, exhaled shakily, then wiped the tears from his eyes. He turned the car around and said a prayer in his head and he sped back towards Bobby's.
XXXXXXX
Dean would never admit he had a knack for handling scared children, but it was quite obvious to Bobby. The older man was busy making a meal as Dean had managed to get the students talking about a magical sport played on broomsticks to keep their nervous minds off the battle. Bobby had called Arabella Figg, who took his number and promised to call when she heard something, but that she wouldn't know anything until the fighting was over. She promised to try to start finding the students' parents, but that it wasn't exactly like they had phone numbers and many people were in hiding, which would complicate things further.
Bobby had a bad feeling this was going to be a massive headache. He had already sent two hunters who might stop by in the opposite direction, he really didn't need anyone knowing he was harboring magical refugees.
The back door flew open and the students jumped as Sam hurried in.
“Easy, that's my brother,” Dean said, standing. He looked around for a moment, then grabbed a pad of paper and a cup full of pens. “Listen, how about you guys see how many of those 700 or whatever fouls you can write down in the next five minutes while I talk to him? Winner gets...” he looked around, then grabbed a candy bar Bobby had on top of the fridge.
“Hey, I was savin' that!” Bobby protested.
“I'll buy you another,” he shot back, tossing the candy onto the table.
The students immediately knew it was to distract them and jumped at the opportunity. They started writing as Dean and Sam went into the other room.
“I don't really know much more than what I already told you,” Dean said, getting right to the point.
“I guess I should thank you for not shooting her,” Sam smiled.
“Bobby's pretty pissed you didn't tell him that there's an unsecured way for witches and wizards to get in here...”
“The other one is in a heavily fortified magical castle...”
“That's currently under attack,” Dean snapped. “Bobby put down a trap on the floor but left it so they can still get through the cabinet, so you better get down there and keep a damn eye on it,” he said, producing a gun, showing him the bullets loaded inside were witch-killing bullets. “She said she told you how to tell her world where the kids are, that she wasn't going to tell anyone about the cabinet. So if it's anyone but her...” he said sternly, not adding 'shoot them' where one of the students might hear.
Sam nodded, took the gun and tucked it in his waistband so the students wouldn't see, and headed for the basement.
XXXXXXX
The only sound in the house was the movie the students were half-heartedly watching to try to calm their nerves as minutes turned to hours with no word about what was happening in the battle. After four hours Bobby tried Mrs. Figg again, but she said she still had heard nothing. Dean and Bobby had fortified some of the protections around the property, unsure of what else they could do. In the basement Sam sat in a dark corner where he could keep an eye on the cabinet but wouldn't be immediately noticed by someone coming through it. His back was screaming from the crouch he had to maintain to see through the crack to the cabinet, but he didn't dare stop his vigil.
It was somewhere between three and four in the morning when Bobby came downstairs with a sandwich and a can of soda.
“They haven't said a word in over an hour,” he muttered as he handed Sam the food.
“It's been a long time,” Sam replied softly.
Bobby nodded, but couldn't find words that might offer comfort. That was always the hardest part of hunting, when he knew there was little hope that someone's loved one was still alive, but there was just enough of a chance they were alive he didn't want to offer condolences. It was so awkward, not wanting to feed hope in what was most likely a hopeless situation, but not wanting to crush it, either. It was almost easier to tell someone about the death, because then there was no question, no reason to allow hope to dwell, there were words for condolence.
“Need a break?” Bobby asked.
“Nah, I'm...” Sam trailed off as the door to the cabinet nudged open. Bobby ducked back behind a tool cabinet and reached for a nearby gun. Whoever was coming through must not have seen him, because they opened the door a little further and dared climbing out. Sam had left the light at the top of the stairs on, which cast a dim glow over the room, but as the figure stood he jumped up, knowing the silhouette of that bushy head of hair...
“Hermione,” he breathed as he and Bobby stood and moved just outside the trap.
"Sam," she looked up at him and smiled. She was bruised and bleeding, her clothes torn, burned, and covered in dust and dirt. She had lost a lot of weight since Sam had last seen her, hair hair was a mess, but there was a smile on her lips as she saw him, though her motion towards him was stopped by the trap. She looked down at it before looking over at Bobby, pulling something from under her t-shirt.
“Lucky charm,” she smirked, though Sam could see one side was damaged.
“Must be,” Bobby replied with a half-smile. “The immortal guy?”
She beamed. “We fixed that little problem, and then we solved the problem he was causing permanently, it is a bloody long story that I'm going to need a nap before I can properly convey. But I have four sets of parents who are desperately looking for their children.”
“Of course,” Bobby nodded, bending over to scrape a piece out of the trap to free her.
The moment he did she flung herself into Sam's arms, kissing him. Sam hadn't been sure how to greet her, he had spent so long analyzing their kiss the last time they had seen each other, wondering if it was something she felt safe doing thinking she'd never see him again. But her kissing him now was different, it was a confirmation that all the feelings he had been carefully bottled up were valid, it was a promise that they were about to start a journey together.
“I love you,” he whispered when she broke apart, and she looked a little surprised. “I know, it's soon, and that you've had a lot on your mind over the last year so you probably didn't think about me much, but I thought about you every day, Hermione. I checked that cabinet so many times...”
“My mind was preoccupied,” she admitted. “But I thought about you every day, too, Sam. There were times I wasn't sure I wanted to go on, and then I would think that the only way I could be with you would be if we won. You're the reason I kept going. I don't know if it's love, I was too afraid to even think it, but I sure hope it gets there.”
He kissed her again until the sound of footsteps on rickety stairs, and they broke apart as the students looked anxiously at her.
“Your parents, all of your parents, are waiting in the Great Hall,” she said.
The students all exhaled in relief and smiled.
“It's not pretty,” she warned. “There are a lot of dead, and a lot of stuff has been destroyed. It's not the same Hogwarts.”
Their smiles faded, but they didn't hesitate to go back through the cabinet. When they left Bobby said he was going to tell Dean they got back alright, leaving Hermione and Sam alone.
“I have to go back,” she said. “There are funerals and debriefings and the general aftermath of a giant bloody battle.”
“I understand,” he nodded. “I'll stay here for when you're ready...”
“You know, you don't have to be magical to use the cabinet.”
He looked at her in surprise. “You want me to come through? To your world? Am I even allowed?”
“I'm a bloody war hero. They're already calling Harry, Ron, and I the Golden Trio. If there's ever a time for me to flaunt a law or two this would be it. I could really use your support over the next few days.”
“Give me ten minutes,” he said, giving her a quick kiss before bounding up the stairs, trying to think of what he was going to tell Dean.