Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

John Winchester's death had been sudden and unexpected.

One moment ago, he was perfectly fine.

The next one, he collapsed to the ground and died of a sudden heart attack.

Dean sighed, running a hand over his forehead, trying to wipe away the sweat.

He had never told his brother that he could remember the time he was in a coma. He remembered when he was trying to reassure Sam, and that his brother hadn't given up on him, never .

That Sam cared about Dean as much as Dean cared about Sam.

He hadn't believed that until that moment.

“Boy, are you okay?”

Dean sighed, turning to see Bobby advancing towards him, two cans of beer in hand, one of which was brought to Dean.

“This car is junk, Dean,” Bobby grimaced at Baby, “there's nothing that can be saved.”

"Do not say that." Dean pointed at it. “No one scraps Baby!”

Bobby snorted. “Sam said the exact same thing. I need to talk to you, do you have a moment?”

Dean nodded, taking a sip of beer, before following Bobby into the house, where Sam was clearly waiting for them.

“What's going on, Bobby?” Sam asked once Dean sat down next to him.

“Well,” Bobby sighed, “there's something your father confessed to me.”

“Okay?” Dean asked, hoping neither of them caught the spark of hope, anger and impatience that had gripped him the moment the words ' your father ' left Bobby's mouth.

“You see, a few years ago,” Bobby said, “your father agreed to go to Las Vegas to keep tabs on some strange witches.”

“In Las Vegas?” Dean felt himself smile. “Are there witches who know fun ? Shocking."

Sam gave him a dry look, but Dean continued to smile. 

“He didn't kill them, they were a different kind of witches.” Bobby short cut. “However, I got him to tell me more about them, and I also kept an eye on their situation, including this witch who spent a few days with your father.”

“Did our father have an affair with a witch ?” Sam asked, blinking, as surprised as Dean felt.

Had his father told him to save (or kill) Sam, because he might become a creature, and had he been intimate with a witch ?

“With her and her husband.” Bobby snorted. "That's not the point. I found out that they are dead, but their son is still alive.”

“Dad's lover's son?” Dean asked, incredulous. “Why should we care about this little baby?”

Bobby snorted, before passing a piece of paper to the boys.

Sam and Dean took it, before widening their eyes.

“That's Harry James Potter.” Bobby said. “And he is your brother.”

Chapter Text

Privet Drive was perfectly normal.

Uninspired, pathetic.

Dean hated the place.

“According to Bobby,” Sam said, reading the text Bobby had sent him, “Harry lives… at number four. With his aunt and uncle.”

“Maternal or paternal?” Dean asked.

If they were paternal, they could simply say that Harry wasn’t really related to them, and therefore had no right to hold their brother hostage.

“Maternal.”

Of course .

Dean sighed.

Maybe it was wrong, rushing to England to claim Harry as their brother, but…

Harry was a Winchester.

He should have been with his family, and his family was Sam and Dean.

“Do you think he’d come with us?” Sam asked, and Dean saw the worried look in Sam’s eyes. “Dean, he might not want to leave his family.”

Dean snorted.

Yes, he didn’t want another reminder that his brother might not want to follow them.

“Or he might want to meet us.” Dean said sharply. “I just think we should at least see him in person.”

A brother who had magic couldn’t be too different from a brother who had visions, right? Dean could have taken care of Harry, as he was taking care of Sam.

“Why didn’t Dad ever tell us about him?” Sam asked, slightly annoyed.

Dean closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Save him, and if you can’t…

“Maybe he didn’t know how to add a supernatural being to the hunt.” Dean muttered.

“But…” Sam swallowed. “He’s our brother.”

“I know.” Dean nodded. “But that’s the only reason Dad wouldn’t have wanted Harry to join us. That, and maybe he didn’t want to put more burden on another boy .”

“And he wanted to give him a normal childhood ?” Sam asked, skeptical.

“Well, if this isn't normal…” Dean muttered, turning off the car outside number four, Privet Drive.

“It looks… too clean,” Sam said, glancing around. “I don’t like it much, honestly.”

Dean snorted. “Me neither, Sammy. Me neither.”

It was very quick to get to the door and knock.

An enormous walrus opened the door.

“Can I help you?” the man asked.

Dean wasn’t sure he could distinguish his neck, head, and chest, the man was so large .

“Yes, actually, you can.” Sam smiled, holding up a badge. “We’re from the FBI, and we’ve been sent to ask about a boy in your care. Harry Potter.”

“What did that freak do now?” The man snorted.

Freak?

Had that thing just called Dean’s little brother a freak ?

“Nothing.” Sam said, and though the smile remained firm on his face, his eyes had gone cold. “We just want to ask him a few questions.”

“Good.” The man snorted. “Come in, then.”

Following the man’s directions, Sam and Dean entered, went up the stairs, and then to a door on the second floor.

Dean took note of the cat flap for food, the locks on the outside , and how the man had to open one before letting the two of them into the room.

Sam and Dean entered, and then were shocked to see Harry, their little brother, standing before them.

He had the same messy hair that Sam had had as a boy, but his eyes were similar to Dean’s.

He wore glasses, broken and taped together, and his clothes hung too loosely for his body, which was far too thin to be healthy.

“ Boy , these men are for you.” The man grinned. “FBI.”

That boy sounded so different from the one Bobby used with Sam and Dean.

Harry frowned, looking at Sam and Dean carefully, before nodding.

“ Behave .” The man growled, spitting as he did so, raising a warning arm.

Dean started to pick up the gun and show the man what a warning was, when Harry snorted and said, “I need to remind you that my godfather is very concerned about my health and he expects a letter from me by tomorrow?”

The man deflated, flinching and backing away from Harry, suddenly frightened by something.

Dean felt himself smiling. That was all Winchester .

A glance was shot at the FBI men, before the man turned and hurried down the stairs, leaving the trio alone.

Harry was a minor, Dean growled. He shouldn’t have been left alone with two grown men , never mind that they were FBI.

Dean looked at Sam and shook his head.

Harry wasn’t staying in that house.

“Okay, you’re not FBI.” Harry said, narrowing his eyes. “So who are you really ?”

“How do you know we’re not the FBI?” Dean asked, surprised.

“I can’t have done anything to warrant a visit from a government agency.” Harry shrugged, looking over to where Sam kept his emergency knife, showing he’d seen the weapon. “And there’s not enough information about me out there. Plus, you wouldn’t have found me through the proper channels. I don’t exist.”

Sam snorted, and Dean felt himself smile.

No DNA test needed, Harry was a Winchester.

They would just have to fix his scruffy appearance and give him a leather jacket to make him a perfect Winchester.

“Well, we’re not the FBI.” Dean confirmed, sitting down in his desk chair and looking around.

The room was bare, run down, and had never been intended to house Harry.

It looked like it had been someone else’s storage room, probably.

“We’re the sons of John Winchester.” Sam said. “Does the name mean anything to you?”

“Should it?” Harry asked, blinking.

“Probably not.” Dean sighed. “Okay, kiddo, I don’t really know how to tell you this, but… You’re our little brother.”

“Excuse me, what ?” Harry blinked.

“Our father, John Winchester, wrote in his diary that thirteen years ago he met a girl named Lily Evans and her husband James Potter. You’re our little brother.” Sam repeated. “We can run some tests if you don’t trust us.”

“Yeah, I think I’d like to run some tests,” Harry muttered. “Just to make sure you guys aren’t fake FBI agents who really just want to kill me.”

“Have you had a lot of people pretend to be someone else just because they wanted to kill you?” Dean asked, feeling the worry and protectiveness starting to rise.

“A professor and a diary.” Harry shrugged. “It just… doesn’t matter.”

Dean could only imagine it had happened at Harry’s school, that Hogwarts.

He glanced at Sam again.

Harry wasn’t going back to that school either.

Chapter Text

Harry thought he was good at reacting to surprises.

In less than three years he had discovered that his parents had not died in a car accident but had been murdered; that their killer actually wanted to kill Harry, but had failed for some mysterious reason; that Harry was a wizard and that he was famous, and not considered a criminal in the Wizarding World as he had been made to believe in the Muggle world by his relatives; that many of Voldemort's followers they would have wanted to kill him, to take revenge for the death of their lord; that Harry had a godfather; that one of his parents' best friends was a werewolf; that Harry's godfather was actually innocent and that it was not he the one who betrayed Harry's parents, but Ron's rat, who was another friend of his parents and Voldemort's spy.

So, Harry was used to surprises.

He was not used to being joined by FBI agents, who wanted him to be fed and to take a DNA test to prove to him that they were brothers and then take him in with them.

He was definitely not used to having someone threaten Vernon with a gun for calling Harry a freak and where he had made Harry sleep before the Hogwarts letters started arriving.

Harry hadn't seen many families, and he certainly had no experience being defended by them.

Usually, it was the Dursleys who were the source of Harry's greatest injuries.

Dean and Sam, on the other hand, had almost shot his uncle when they saw the cupboard under the stairs.

And then they threatened to arrest him for child abuse.

In the car, Harry was sitting in the back seat watching the two boys from behind.

He could see similarities with the two men, but it had all happened so quickly, and Harry couldn't really come to terms with what had happened in such a short time.

Harry was much better at reacting under pressure and at surprises when they consisted of someone wanting him dead.

Maybe, if one of the two had been in danger of dying while they were breaking the news...

No, bad thoughts.

Harry sighed.

“Just because we haven't done anything yet doesn't mean they won't pay.” Dean, the one Harry had deduced was the older brother, told him from the driver's seat of the car.

All of Harry's belongings had been loaded into the trunk, and neither Sam or Dean had reacted to Harry's Firebolt, or the strange titles of his books.

And they hadn't said anything when they saw his hiding place with the photo album, a cloak, a piece of parchment and some food.

Dean had only moved his hand on the gun, as if he was physically holding himself back from extracting it, but, apart from that small gesture , neither of them had said anything .

No mercy, no mockery, no string of questions to demand all the answers in that moment.

It was… nice , Harry decided. Having the right to his own privacy.

He hadn't thought he'd ever meet someone who believed in privacy, especially not after the entire Wizarding World seemed to think they knew him and had the right to judge him just because they knew his name.

"What?" Harry asked, blinking in confusion.

“Your relatives, those beings .” Dean growled. “They abused my little brother, they won't get away with it.”

Harry blinked. "Not…"

The boy was confused.

The only ones who had ever shown any sign of wanting revenge against his relatives had been Fred and George after they had seen the cupboard under the stairs at the beginning of his second year and found the piece of paper with the words ' Harry's room ' written on it.

Harry had had to promise them that his aunt and uncle had stopped, and that Harry was relatively safe now.

It hadn't helped much , since they had to save him from starving , but Harry had managed to convince them not to do anything, since no adult would ever believe any of them.

McGonagall hadn't believed him, Dumbledore hadn't been able to do anything to keep Harry out of their care, and Harry knew that although Hagrid had seen what they were like first hand, he wouldn't have done anything to keep Harry away from them. He hadn't even said anything after turning Dudley into a half pig.

Harry knew it wasn't even done in defense of him, but in honor of Dumbledore .

So, he was surprised and confused by the way Dean and Sam were acting.

Did he know the Dursleys were doing it wrong? Certain.

But… Sam and Dean didn't know him. They only had one note in their father's diary where Harry's mother was mentioned.

And, from that note, had they decided to go get Harry?

It didn't make sense.

"What?" Sam asked. “You seem surprised that we want to make them pay… Why?”

“You don't even know me.” Harry said. "Why?"

“Why what?” Dean said, keeping his gaze on the road, but still managing to look at Harry through the rearview mirror.

“Why go to all that trouble for me ? You don't know me, you know nothing about me, or my parents, other than that your father had an affair with my mother..." Harry shrugged. “It just seems absurd, that's all.”

“It's not absurd.” Sam said. “You are our little brother and we take care of our family.”

Harry looked at him, before sighing and asking. “Where do you two live, anyway? You have an accent… not really English.”

"America." Dean replied. “We were born in Kansas, but have moved around our entire lives. So I would say that America is good as a source."

Harry gasped.

“Did you get on a damn plane and fly internationally just to come see me?”

Because, Harry might have understood if Dean and Sam had lived near Surrey.

A short car trip, although quite tiring, might have made sense.

Finding out to have a younger brother could lead someone to look for their family, if only to be sure of their good health.

But taking a plane?

"Yes." Dean nodded. “And I don't even like planes, kid, so I really hope you appreciate it.”

Harry swallowed.

His brothers were crazy.

****

Harry sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, waiting for the DNA test to return.

He, Sam and Dean had all given a blood and saliva sample to compare it, and now, Harry was sitting between his brothers.

He didn't need to receive the result to know it was the truth.

No one bothered to get on a plane, join an abused boy in a perfectly normal home , a boy for whom there was no birth certificate or medical report or anything else in any Muggle register, threaten said boy's uncle, take all the his stuff and then offering to take a DNA test to prove a relationship he wasn't even sure of, all in the name of bringing Harry with them to America.

Dean and Sam were really Harry's older brothers.

And Harry wasn't even sure how to react to having older brothers.

Ron called them a nuisance , and was always resentful of having to live in their shadow, claiming that whatever he did, it wouldn't matter, because his brothers had already done it.

Yet, Harry had seen that Percy, Fred and George looked after Ron during his early years, and that Ron had also looked after Ginny when she arrived at Hogwarts.

So, how should Harry have dealt with his brothers?

How could he explain magic to them? Would they send him back to the Dursleys ?

Harry swallowed.

He really didn't want to have to explain to his older brothers that he was a wizard, and then have his chance to leave the Dursleys taken away from him once again .

With Sirius it had been painful enough.

Repeating the experience would have been definitely too much.

“What happened to your father?” Harry asked suddenly. “Why did you have to find out about me from a diary?”

Sam and Dean gasped.

"Sorry." Harry said quickly. “I didn't want to… I thought there was nothing wrong with asking…”

“He's not there, kiddo.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face, tired. “Our father is dead.”

Harry gasped.

He had lost his parents when he was one year old, and now, he discovered that his biological father was dead.

"I am sorry." He said, looking at the two boys.

“Thanks, dude.” Sam smiled. 

“Winchester?” The nurse called out to them, before walking over to them and saying. “Here are the results of your test.”

She handed the papers to Dean, smiling at the boy, before disappearing and returning to the lab.

Harry reached over, reading the results.

He wasn't surprised when he said who was really their younger brother.

“So, what do we do now?” Harry asked, glancing at the two.

“Airport, plane, Bobby's house.” Dean listed. “Then we'll see what you need. Clothes, probably?” Dean suggested, glancing at Sam, who nodded.

“Maybe even some books.” Sam added. “They are just as important as entertainment.”

“We're not raising another nerd , Sammy.” Dean denied, shaking his head. “One is enough.”

Harry blinked, watching the two argue, moving his head back and forth between them.

“Can I talk?” Harry asked, raising his hand to get their attention.

“Sure, kiddo.” Dean smiled. “What would you like to have? Games or books?”

“Who is Bobby?” Harry asked instead, making Dean snort in amusement and Sam sigh.

“You'll find out when you see it.” Dean said instead. “Come on, let's go, kiddo.”

Without much choice, Harry followed them.

Maybe, he thought, he would tell them the truth just before he started his fourth year at Hogwarts. At least, Harry reasoned, he would have plenty of time to enjoy a family before he lost them.

***

The plane was disturbing.

Harry was sandwiched between Sam and Dean. Sam looked perfectly comfortable in the vehicle, while Dean was humming something softly.

“Dean doesn't like flying.” Sam whispered to Harry.

“I've never been on a plane before.” Harry confessed. “What are the chances that this plane crashes and we all die?”

“They're not that tall.” Sam tried to reassure him.

Harry swallowed. 

They're not that tall sounded a lot like it's not too dangerous to go after Snape in his first year.

Spoiler alert: it had been damn dangerous .

“And, don't worry,” Sam said, making Harry worried just by those words, “Dean and I are here.”

Which wouldn't have meant anything in a plane crash, but it was a nice thought.

“Maybe if you sleep, it would be easier?” Sam offered, uncertain.

Harry nodded. 

Sleeping seemed like a good idea.

If Harry stopped having bloody nightmares every time he closed his eyes, maybe everything would be okay.

Sam began to read something in a low voice, and Harry's eyes closed on their own.

He had never slept so well in his entire life.

***

Bobby's house was… special.

If Harry had to compare it to any house he'd been in before, he would have said it looked like a mix between Hagrid's hut and the Burrow.

That is, warm, welcoming, safe and which seemed to stand by pure spirit of contempt against anyone who doubted it.

Harry thought it was amazing.

Dean had hugged a car goodbye, calling it Baby .

Judging by Sam's look, it was perfectly normal.

Harry was starting to worry slightly for his older brothers' sanity.

“Here you are.” A gruff voice startled Harry, who turned and was scrutinized by a pair of brown eyes. “I was wondering what happened to you. For a moment, I was afraid that Dean was going to make you swim back."

“We don't have wings, why should we fly?” Dean muttered in annoyance, making Harry smile in amusement.

“Quick check.” The man offered three glasses of water to the three boys.

Seeing Sam and Dean take a leisurely sip, Harry frowned and eyed the contents.

It was normal water.

“Uh… should I drink it?” Harry asked unsurely, looking up at the three adults, staring at him.

“Precisely, boy.” The man nodded. “All in one breath, come on!”

Still unsure, Harry took a sip of water. Seeing that it was normal water, and not some strange drug, he finished the rest in one gulp.

"Perfect!" The man smiled, “Follow me, boy!”

Sam leaned over to whisper to Harry. “Bobby is a little rough, but he loves us.”

And he had some strange customs, Harry thought, seeing the pentagons drawn around the house.

They looked very much like the symbols that Harry had seen in a glimpse of one of the films that his aunt sometimes left playing on the television.

She really enjoyed reminding Harry that he was the same as the demons that appeared on the screen.

Bobby snorted. “I heard you, boy.” he admonished Sam, before pointing Harry to a room. “Come inside, it's almost ready to eat.”

Harry followed Dean and Sam to the kitchen, looking at them for directions on what to do.

Should he have sat down? Should he have cooked and prepared the dishes?

Today they would have told him which rooms he could enter and which he could not?

“Eat, boy.” Bobby said.

Even though the word was the same, Harry thought he preferred Bobby's boy rather than Uncle Vernon's.

His uncle always looked at him with disgust whenever he called him boy, while Bobby seemed to call him boy just as a way of calling him.

A bit like Dean when he called Bobby old man on the phone to tell him they were coming.

It was like… an affectionate nickname, in Bobby's case.

Harry sat down, before looking at his plate and raising an eyebrow at the enormous burger on his plate.

“Is it for me?” He asked, looking at the trio in confusion.

Dean was already eating a hamburger, Bobby had a sandwich in front of him, while Sam was dressing a salad.

Harry could hear Hermione's voice reminding him to eat his vegetables, as well as his burgers.

But he also heard her say that he needed energy, and that it was always better to be ready to escape.

“Who should it be for? The dog?” Bobby snorted.

Since Aunt Marge brought food for Dudley, his parents, and her own dog, but not for Harry, Harry didn't know what was so absurd.

“Eat, Harry.” Dean repeated. “We can answer your questions in the meantime.”

Hesitant, Harry began to eat, glancing at the three adults, before relaxing and eating more quickly.

He was hungry.

“So,” Sam smiled, “I'm sure you have some questions, Harry.”

“Yes, boy, ask away.” Bobby nodded. “We have nothing to do now.”

Chapter Text

“Eat, Harry.” Dean repeated. “We can answer your questions in the meantime.”

Hesitant, Harry began to eat, glancing at the three adults, before relaxing and eating more quickly.

“So,” Sam smiled, feeling his heart clench at the boy's hesitance, “I'm sure you have some questions, Harry.”

“Yes, boy, ask away.” Bobby nodded. “We have nothing to do now.”

Harry stared at them in silence for a moment, before asking. “Why did you pretend to be federal agents?” 

Sam felt himself laughing, because of course that would be Harry's question.

Bobby snorted. “How long did it take them to tell you who they really were?” He asked, glancing at Dean.

“They didn't.” Harry said. “I figured it out on my own that they weren't federal agents.”

Sam muttered amusedly. Seeing through people was a very Winchester thing to do.

Of course, their ability was due to the lifestyle they led.

Harry's one, instead?

“Good boy.” Bobby grunted in agreement. “In our work it is easier to get real answers if we are a place of authority.”

Harry snorted ironically. “I don't think I've ever told the truth to a place of authority , but that might just be me .” Then, frowning, “But isn't the FBI a place of authority just in America?”

“It is important everywhere .” Dean explained. “In America it just has more investigations and its basis, and usually sends other collaborators to those other areas. We didn't have time to pretend we were some other association.”

Harry shrugged.

Apparently, that was an explanation worthy enough.

Then, he frowned. “What is your job?”

Sam waited for that question.

His goals had changed in less than thirty hours.

Before Bobby confirmed the existence of a baby Winchester, Sam had been completely focused on avenging Jessica and continuing his father's crusade.

Now, Sam would gladly abandon the demon in favor of raising little Harry as he had never been able to be raised.

Sure, Harry's magic made things rather complicated , but Bobby had said that hunters left wizards like Harry alone. They had an unspoken treaty.

The wizards could have killed the hunters with a single spell. Sam really didn't want to start a war against the wizards either.

Sam glanced at Dean, effectively leaving it up to his older brother to decide what to say to Harry.

“We are hunters.” Dean said.

“ Hunters ?” Harry frowned. “And why do you have to pretend to be federal agents to hunt? Is turkey so popular ?”

Sam snorted in amusement.

Turkey . It would have been nice to hunt some turkeys, probably.

“We don't hunt turkeys, actually.” Dean murmured. “Harry, do you believe in ghosts?”

Harry smiled amusedly.

Sam wondered if there were ghosts at Hogwarts. Or maybe some kind of spirit?

“Yes, let's say I do.” Harry replied amused. “Do you hunt ghosts?”

“We hunt all creatures of the night.” Bobby replied. “We are hunters of the supernatural. Ghosts, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and so on and so forth.”

Harry made a complicated expression, not looking particularly comfortable with that kind of  information.

“That said, we don't hunt your kind of witches.” Bobby continued. “So stop looking at my rifle in terror.”

Harry paled, and Sam chastised himself for not noticing how scared the boy was of them.

“Actually,” Harry replied, cheekily and sarcastically, “I was looking at the knife, rather than the rifle. It's so much closer."

Bobby snorted. “Okay, boy,” then, he pushed a journal towards Harry, “this is a journal of the creatures we hunt.”

“Werewolves?” Harry repeated. "Why? They are only dangerous once a month.”

“Do you know a werewolf ?” Dean asked, eyes narrowing.

Sam sighed. It looked like Harry would have to put up with all the protectiveness of Dean, the older brother.

Poor boy.

“My teacher last year was a werewolf.” Harry replied. “And he was dangerous only once a month if he didn't take the potion. Otherwise, he was… not dangerous, I guess.”

“ You guess ?” Dean repeated, glaring at Harry. “In what sense, you guess ?”

“I never approached him when he was under the influence of the potion.” Harry replied.

“And when he wasn't ?” Dean asked.

Harry took the diary, muttering. “I wonder if the diary had been some kind of possessed object. Next time I see one like that, I will throw it in the fire.”

“ And when he wasn't ?” Dean repeated, staring at Harry in shock.

“It doesn't matter, I'm perfectly fine .” Harry shrugged. “You said your father died… did one of these things kill him?”

Sam nodded. “Our father was killed by a demon. The Yellow-Eyed Demon, as we call him.”

"I am sorry." Harry murmured.

From the way his green eyes shone, Sam was sure that Harry himself knew well the pain it felt.

And, knowing his past, Sam was sure that Harry had experienced it himself.

“We are taking some time off.” Dean said. “From hunting and all that mess. If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. And you better learn some self-defense.”

"Why?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at Dean, clearly confused.

“Because there are people who would like to hurt you to get back at us.” Dean replied. “Let's not give them golden opportunities, huh?”

Sam was pretty sure that Harry had muttered something like ' Potter luck' , but he couldn't be sure.

“Well,” Bobby smiled, “Dean, you need to finish painting that wreck of yours. Sam, Harry, I'll be out fixing my cars.”

Seeing them both get up, Harry followed suit, starting to pick up the plates to clean up.

“Damn, kiddo, no.” Dean said. “Sam and I will take care of cleaning up here, okay? Bobby, do you have any clothes for Harry?”

Bobby snorted. “Maybe something from yours when you were kids? Let's see..."

Seeing Bobby start to walk towards the stairs, Sam gently nudged Harry in his direction, before walking over to Dean and murmuring. “Can we kill those things before every other possible hunt?”

Dean growled lowly.

Sam looked at him vaguely amused. “You seem one step away from locking him in a circle of salt, stuffed to the teeth with weapons.”

“I should close him in a safe bubble of air, with salt and holy water.” Dean sighed. “Werewolves. There are ghosts and werewolves in his school.”

“And cursed diaries, if we're going by the diary that tried to kill him.” Sam said. “And about his totally uncaring comment about how he should have burned it.”

Dean slammed his hand on the table. "Son of a bitch!"

“Dean, relax.” Sam told him.

“ Relax ?” Dean echoed Sam's words. “Sammy, our brother was in danger at his school and first abused by his guardians! He could have ended up like Max !”

Sam gasped.

He remembered Max. The way Sam's life might have turned out if it weren't for Dean.

John could have resented Sam for his role in Mary's death. Sam would never be able to go to school, he would always remain around John, growing up as a shadow of a person.

Dean would never allow it.

And Sam could never become like Max because he had Dean on his side.

Harry hadn't had him. Harry had no one.

“Apparently, Harry is much stronger than Max.” Sam said. “And being angry now isn't going to make things right , Dean. You saw him, he was sure he had to clean here, he was surprised he could eat ..."

“He had a safe place to hide food and the objects that belonged to his parents .” Dean murmured. “I'll make those Dursleys regret ever laying a finger on my brother .”

Sam sighed. “Okay, Dean, turn off the overprotectiveness for a moment . We have to think what to do now.”

“We can't leave him weak.” Dean said. “Not only is he in danger from us, but apparently he is in danger from himself as well. We will teach him how to shoot and the tricks of the family’s business.”

“What, the family business ?” Sam was incredulous. “Dean, Harry is thirteen ! You can't send him to kill demons !”

“I don't want to send him out to kill demons, I just want him to be ready for when a demon comes to kill him!” Dean retorted. “I don't want to lose Harry too, okay?”

“What about hunts?” Sam asked. “Do we really want to continue?”

Dean murmured. “I think in the future… we can continue. There are people we can save."

"Yes. I know." Sam nodded. “It's just that…”

"What?" Dean asked, looking at Sam, surprised. “You were all for continuing Dad's crusade, and now you don't want to anymore?”

“Dean, Harry might be hurt.” Sam was incredulous at Dean's question. “Do you really want me to believe you don't care ? You adopted him the moment you saw that picture , Dean.”

Then, surprisingly, Dean laughed. “Welcome to the world of big brothers.”

Sam was pretty sure the laugh was just teasing.

An unappreciated and completely uncalled joke.

“I'm not kidding, Dean.” Sam said. “We can't put Harry in danger too. The demons will use him just like they used us with dad, you know that, right ?”

“The demons don't know about him yet.” Dean said. “And they won't even get to the point where they can use him against us.”

“How can you promise something like that?” Sam shook his head. “With our work ? With the kind of life we ​​lead?”

Dean sighed. “We will find a solution. Like we always do.”

Sam nodded.

“I called the company where Vernon Dursley works while you were driving.” Sam confessed. “I said he committed some pretty significant wrongdoing.”

Dean bursted out laughing. “See if we can make the IRS think they haven't paid taxes in a while.”

“I'm sure we can do something about that.” Sam commented, starting to sift through the contacts marked on his father's phone.

 Maybe they would get lucky and one of them would be very happy making those things's lives hell?

Sometimes, miracles happened.

One just had to believe them enough.

***

Sam had decided that he would look for one of Dad's contacts who lived in England.

Surely, Sam mused, someone had to tell John Winchester that wizards like Lily Evans Potter were off-limits, right?

John would not take a witch's promises at her word, no matter how cute or innocent said witch in question might seem.

Sam absolutely didn't want to think that his father had gone on a witch hunt and instead got someone pregnant, all while Sam and Dean waited for him at Bobby's.

Absolutely, he was not going to go down that rabbit hole.

After cracking the answering machine code on the main phone his father used, Sam began looking at older phone calls, including saved messages.

When he saw one from four months earlier, he became suspicious.

Dad had deleted all the messages Sam and Dean had left, including all the ones where Dean warned him that they were back in Lawrence, or where Sam warned him that Dean was dying and that he would find a solution himself.

But had he kept a message from some random woman named Ellen?

With a shiver of anticipation, Sam put the phone to his ear, sighing and playing the message.

“ John. It’s Ellen. Again. Look, don’t be stubborn. You know I can help you. Call me. ”

John kept a voicemail for four months, where an offer of help was mentioned.

What could it be about? What was really important to dad?

Sam snorted, the demon obviously. Yellow Eyes.

Part of him wondered what he and Dean had been doing four months ago.

It was probably, Sam thought, during the same time Dean had almost died and Sam had tried to save him against all odds.

Good to know that hunting the demon was more important than saving his own children.

Maybe it was a good thing for Harry that John had never intended to have him with them, for whatever reason it might have been.

Harry didn't deserve to have his memory tarnished. He had had a father, who had loved him enough to die to protect him.

He didn't deserve someone like John.

Dean hadn't either.

Chapter Text

While Do that to me one more time was playing on the radio of the car that Bobby had agreed to lend to Dean for his little trip to the Roadhouse, a burger joint owned by Ellen, an old friend of John and Bobby himself, Dean glanced at Harry in the rearview mirror.

The kid still had those dented glasses, and Dean thought they definitely needed to make a quick stop to get him to get an eye exam as soon as possible.

Did the child also have vaccinations?

Dean hated this whole taking care of a kid thing. He had no idea what vaccinations were needed.

Sam was the one who took care of Dean's vaccinations, and only after John had…

Dean shook his head, not wanting to think about it at all.

“It's humiliating,” he said, getting out of the car before the other two. It wasn't his beautiful and fantastic Baby, the wonderful and always reliable car he had used even to take Harry.

No, the drive to the airport and back had hurt her, and now Dean had to use a damn van .

“I feel like a damn soccer team mom.” Dean growled.

Sam snorted, amused. “It was Bobby's only car that worked. Stop complaining about everything.”

Harry silently followed the two brothers.

Dean would deny it until he died, but he'd gasped when the boy appeared at his side.

No thirteen year old should have been so quiet.

Dean had been.

Sam, no, not at all.

But Harry? The kid was damn quiet, like a ghost.

Dean was almost worried about his ability.

“Sam, did you bring the…?”

Dean went quiet when Sam tossed him a loaded gun.

Ellen may have been an old friend of their father's, but Dad's old friends were all a little crazy, if Dean was being honest.

All of them, and some of them were very crazy .

Plus, the sheer lack of life around the Roadhouse made Dean shiver.

“Let's go over the general rules, kiddo,” Dean said, turning to Harry, “if things get bad, will you…?”

“I run away and I don't look back.” Harry repeated obediently, repeating for what must have been the hundredth time the rules Dean had told him.

"Very good." Dean nodded. “Ready, Sammy?”

Sam nodded, opening the door with one hand and allowing Dean to enter first.

Dean heard Harry gasp when they saw the man lying down.

Sam's attention went to the flashing light bulbs.

Dean and Sam locked eyes, before Sam went towards the kitchen room, and Dean continued to monitor the main room, where Harry was trying to check the person's pulse.

“Do you think he's dead?” Harry asked, uncertain.

Dean really hated that tone of voice in the boy.

“I'm sure he just passed out, kiddo.” Dean smiled slightly. “Do you want me to check?”

"No, no, that’s okay." Harry shook his head, before going behind the counter to do God knew what .

Maybe Dean should have put a rule against younger brothers doing whatever they wanted?

He felt something on his back, and murmured. “Please let it be a rifle.”

“Your manhood is not at risk.” A female voice said, and then Dean heard the rifle being loaded.

“Friendly advice,” Dean said, “when you point your rifle at someone, don't stand so close. Then, you know, it's very easy to do that."

Thinking only of Harry standing nearby, Dean turned and picked up the rifle extremely easily.

And he was definitely not ready for the punch in the nose he received.

“Sam? I need help here.” Dean called.

“Sorry, Dean,” Sam said, and Dean turned to see his little brother with a gun pointed at his head by a woman. “I really can't now.”

“Sam? Dean?” The woman asked, giving both of them an appraising look. “Winchester?”

"Yes." The two replied.

“Mom, do you know these two?” The blonde girl holding Dean at gunpoint asked.

“I think they are John Winchester's sons.” Ellen smiled. “I'm Ellen.”

And, just at that moment, Harry made his appearance. “Is this a bad time?”

Dean sighed. “Kiddo, you had one job .”

“Yes, give a drink to the passed out person on the table.” Harry pointed to the figure of the person. “Though I hope he isn't dead and we just interrupted a satanic ritual.” Harry looked at Dean, suddenly scared. “Have you ever interrupted a satanic ritual?”

“No, kiddo.” Dean sighed. “I've never done it.”

“And who are you?”

Ellen was smiling kindly at Harry, putting down the gun and motioning for her daughter to remove the rifle from the child's field of vision.

Dean totally approved of that gesture, and decided then and there that Ellen and her daughter were awesome.

It doesn't matter that they just beat the shit out of him and Sam.

“Harry Potter.” Harry frowned. “Harry Winchester? Harry Potter-Winchester? Technically, my mother and John had a relationship, so would it be Harry Evans ? Harry Evans-Winchester ?”

“Okay, kiddo, they got it.” Dean smiled slightly.

“Harry Potter is John's son?” Ellen looked surprised. “I could have never guessed this.”

“Do you know who I am?” Harry asked, giving Ellen a wary look.

“All the hunters know who Harry Potter is, little one.” The girl said. “I'm Jo, by the way. Nice to meet you, Harry.”

Harry nodded. His gaze fell on the water in his hand and then on the figure upside down on the pool table. “Is he okay?”

“Don't worry about Ash.” Ellen shook her head. “He'll be fine in no time. He just passed out in the wrong place.”

Ellen then tilted her head. “Are you hungry? I can make you a burger on the fly.”

Sam gave a tap at Harry when he saw him shake his head.

"Thank you." Harry said then, giving Sam an annoyed look, so similar to Sam when he looked at Dean that it made Dean smile.

Then, seeing Dean smile, Harry smiled back. “I hope you don't mind, but I have a video of Jo punching you in the nose.”

“Wait, what ?” Dean stopped smiling and Sam burst out laughing.

Jo giggled, ruffling Harry's hair.

“Come on, come and eat something.”

***

While Jo entertained Harry, making him eat and drink, Dean alternated between keeping an eye on his little brother and the ongoing conversation between Ellen and Sam.

“You said you could help him.” Sam said. “With what?”

“With the demon, of course.” Ellen replied. “I knew John was getting closer to it.”

"How?" Sam asked, mirroring Dean's incredulity. Was there an announcement about that on the ' Real Hunter ' or something?

“This place isn't just a roadhouse, it's the roadhouse.” Ellen explained. “People pass through here, hunters mostly, and exchange information. John passed by here quite often. He was like a family."

But he wasn't family, Dean wanted to scream. John was the father of Dean, Sam and now Harry.

He should have been there for Dean, Sam and Harry.

Don't have a four month old message from a complete stranger .

“Dad never said anything about you.” Sam murmured, perhaps wondering the same thing that was buzzing in Dean's mind.

Why ?

Why had he kept his children out of that circle?

Sam wanted a normal life, or as normal as possible.

He wanted friends , and Dean knew it, because Sam made friends at every single school they stopped at.

Every damn school.

And hadn't their father allowed them to meet the children of other hunters? Like Jo, who must have been about Sam's age?

Sam would have his normal, Dean would have his brother .

Simple and easy as drinking a glass of water.

"I do not know." Ellen shook her head. “I know a lot about you. Stanford, right?” Ellena asked, smiling at Sam. “John told me.”

Dean saw the complicated look that crossed Sam's face.

Their father might have been a good dad, but only by hearing the proud words with which he spoke about his children to everyone else .

When he talked to his sons, however, their father was more like their drill sergeant.

He wasn't a father, he was a general in war.

And Sam and Dean his soldiers to train and perfect weapons.

Sam had been right when he had said their father shouldn't have given him a knife when Sam was seven.

Sam had to fear the dark, but he had to feel safe with their father.

Dean had taught him how to use that knife, and insisted that they use it to carve their initials into the Impala.

“Yeah, I guess.” Sam looked bitter. “How can you help with the demon, exactly?”

Ellen shrugged. “Didn't John tell you before he sent you here?”

Sam glanced at Dean, who looked away very quickly.

“He didn't send you, did he?” Ellen finally understood. “Is he okay?”

The raw pain in Ellen's voice didn't help Dean.

Having Harry had been a gift to cope with the pain. Dean was better at coping with pain when he had to focus on protecting a younger brother.

Now he had two to take care of.

"No." Sam swallowed. “We think it was the demon, you know, killing him before he was killed.”

Ellen sighed, “I'm so sorry, guys.”

“You said you could help, though?” Dean stopped the conversation, knowing it would get too emotional any minute.

He really didn't want to hear it.

Not from a stranger who called John family .

“Not me, no. Ash can, though.” Ellen pointed to the figure lying on the pool table. “ Ash !”

He started, turned and asked. “Are we closing already?”

“Are we sure he is… the right person?” Sam asked.

"Yes." Ellen smiled. “Ash is a genius.”

Dean sighed, knowing there wasn't much they could do anyway.

He turned, seeing that Harry and Jo were still eating a burger.

“Okay, let's see.” Dean agreed.

What did they still have to lose, anyway?

****

“This is our father's year's work.” Dean said, passing the stack of papers to Ash as soon as he sat down in front of them.

He knew that Harry was keeping tabs on them, but he also knew that the boy had just learned to hold a Glock without shaking (which was surprising for only a couple of days of training), and that Bobby had been grilling him about the creatures supernaturals, how to deal with them and how to kill them.

Harry had been extremely diligent.

Still, surprising for only two days of training to be a hunter, not so much considering that everything Harry did was aimed at making him, Sam, and Bobby proud.

Dean sighed.

He really couldn't stand having an eager-to-please little brother.

It made him feel guilty for even asking if Harry liked cake.

He couldn't ask anything, because Harry would answer the way he thought Dean would want to hear.

It was hateful. Horrible.

And it made Dean feel extremely guilty that he thought it was better that John was dead.

Dean had done everything dad wanted. Harry?

Dean didn't want to think about what Harry would do to get even a smile of approval from the man.

Ash began to sift through the papers that John had put together, before snorting. “No one can find a demon like that, come on.”

“Our father did.” Sam replied.

Ash gave Sam a thoughtful look, before putting more effort into reading the papers.

Dean could see the exact moment his expression went from annoyed to intrigued.

“Statistics, demonic omen,” Ash muttered, “this is… actually, it's very good. There are omens that precede the arrival of the demon, with very precise data. Percentages, even.”

Dean shot Sam a confused look, finding him ready to shrug.

Harry, a little further back, was looking at Ash interestedly.

“Can you locate him with that stuff?” Dean asked.

“With these?” Ash asked. “Absolutely yes. Just give me…fifty-one hours exactly.”

Fifty-one hours exactly ?

Dean didn't know if Ash was really as smart as Ellen claimed, or if he was just spouting a lot of bullshit.

Well, within fifty-one hours they would find out.

As Ash stood up, Dean saw Harry looking at him interestedly.

Ash realized this too.

“Kid,” Ash told him, shaking and tossing his long hair, “you can come with me to see the magic at work.”

And Dean deeply hated the way Harry looked hesitant at Dean and Sam, getting a nod from both, before following Ash.

“Damn, I hate this.” Dean snorted.

Sam nodded.

Well, it seemed, they had fifty-one hours to spend somehow .

Chapter Text

Harry had followed Ash into what he supposed to be the other’s safe and personal place.

“How do you track a demon?” Harry asked, frowning.

Demons were just the evil thing his aunt used to explain Harry's quirk . And the priests really weren't big fans of the demonic guy .

Harry forced himself to shake his head and put all memories of the Dursleys' care out of his mind.

They hadn't worked, not because Harry was now too corrupt to be saved, but simply because there was nothing that needed to be saved.

Harry had magic, and he wasn't a demon.

And not even those who hunted monsters would hunt Harry .

Indeed, Harry thought with a trickle of annoyance, seeing a copy of the Daily Prophet on Ash's wall, the hunters knew Harry and his story.

Harry hated that .

“Well, there are signs when what we see is a human-shaped mess , and when it is an interest-shaped mess .” Ash shrugged. “Your father was a genius. I've never seen anyone find a way to look for a demon before ."

Harry nodded, even though he didn’t comment on the ability John had. “So there are ways to keep tabs on the supernatural and find out when we need to intervene?”

Ash hummed in response, turning on his computer.

Perhaps Harry should have invested in a personal computer, to help with the hunt.

He knew that Sam and Dean would start hunting again, and, personally, Harry thought he would never be able to actually hunt.

He wasn't good enough.

He could stay in the rear and let Sam and Dean do all the shooting, while he refined the theory.

Wow, Harry never thought there would come a time when he would rather stay at the back than go to the front and fight.

This was something to sign on the calendar.

Maybe he should have told Ron and Hermione about this personal growth.

And perhaps he really should have told someone that he was no longer on English soil.

Sooner or later , he would have also done it.

“ How do you do it?” Harry asked, knowing he sounded too curious.

“Well, it's pretty simple.” Ash replied. “For normal cases, newspapers and police stations are monitored. Any suspicious report deserves to be taken into consideration."

“Suspicious.. how ?” Harry asked again.

“Well, if by chance, and this is just an example ,” Ash said, “there is a case of annual disappearances on the same stretch of road… well, something is happening right there.”

Harry nodded. He was pretty sure he had read something about a scarecrow that his brothers had destroyed last year, sent by their father John.

“And to track down this demon?” Harry asked.

“Simple,” Ash smiled, “see this little gem?” Ash pointed to the computer. “This is mine and it has a beautiful program where I can input this data-” Ash tapped the stack of papers, “-and find the demon.”

" Simple ?" Harry blinked.

“Like drinking a glass of water.” Ash shook his hair (Harry surely had no mental image of Lucius Malfoy doing the same thing. And, he may have been biased as he thought Ash had better hair).

There was a pounding on the door, and Jo stuck her head in. “Hey, Harry, your brothers asked me to come to take you."

"Why?" Harry asked, blinking.

“They have a hunt and you can go with them.” Jo replied. “Hey, Ash, do you want to eat something? I'll get you a burger, okay?”

"Absolutely." Ash nodded, giving a thumbs up to Jo, without looking up from the screen.

Harry dutifully followed Jo to the main hall, where Harry's brothers were looking at a yellow folder.

He read the red writing. “Couple killed, child left alive.”

Dean gave him a smile. “Are you coming with us, kiddo?”

Harry shrugged. “At worst, they'll take me for your son. They kill you, I save myself. It is fine for me."

Sam burst out laughing, and Dean sighed. 

With a smile, Harry greeted Ellen and Jo. “Thanks for the burger. And it was nice to meet you.”

"Me too." Ellen smiled, ruffling Harry's hair. “Do not be strangers.”

***

In the back seat of the van (and Harry would not comment on the strange, almost certainly unhealthy , relationship Dean had with his car, after he had complained for hours about his inability to use his precious Baby ), listening to the argument between his older brothers.

“Don't make me laugh, a killer clown?” Dean asked as he drove.

“He spared the daughter and killed the parents.” Sam said, using a flashlight to read the newspaper clipping.

Harry wondered why he didn't turn on the lamp on the roof of the car, but he wouldn't be the crazy one to ask.

“He tore them to pieces, really.” Sam specified, glancing at Harry through the rearview mirror.

“And did they go to the amusement park that evening?” Dean asked.

“Exactly,” Sam nodded, going back to reading the article. “Cooper Luna Park.”

“And how do you know it's not a psychopath dressed up as a clown?” Dean asked again.

“No one is missing from the crew.” Sam said. “They all have alibis. Furthermore, the little girl said she had seen the clown before, disappearing and appearing. They blamed PTSD.”

Harry snorted softly. 

He had killed a basilisk, but no one had brought up PTSD before.

“I know what you're thinking, Sam.” Dean said suddenly.

Harry was surely thinking that Professor Dumbledore should think about hiring a clown as his next professor.

One possessed by Voldemort, an idiot, a werewolf, a murderous clown.

Even Harry could see the pattern in the DADA professors. Aside from Lupin, at least, they were all professors who really should have been cursed with a cursed position.

Dumbledore was just doing an annual good deed.

If the professors stopped trying to kill Harry instead, that would have been perfect.

Really enjoyable .

“Why a clown?” Dean continued, shooting an amused smile at Sam, who gave him a warning look, which Dean ignored.

“Harry, you must know that our brother is scared of clowns.” Dean smiled amusedly. “He still cries when he sees one on television.”

Harry frowned. Sam hunted demons and was afraid of clowns ?

“Apparently, clowns kill .” Harry said calmly. “It seems smart to be afraid of them.”

"Thank you!" Sam pointed at Harry, before saying. “And Dean is terrified of planes!”

“Planes crash!” Dean defended himself, lifting his hands off the steering wheel momentarily, before putting them back up and looking at Sam offended and betrayed.

“And clowns kill .”

After a look exchanged between the two, Harry intervened. “Have there been other murders of this type?”

Sam gave him a proud smile, Dean winked. “Our little brother is learning the family business, Sammy!”

“In 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus.” Sam replied, flipping through the papers Ellen had put together in the file. “Same modus operandi. Three cities, three families.”

“Okay, how to become a hunter 101 .” Dean turned to Harry. “A spirit is tied to a place. A house, a city.”

“That is moving.” Harry pointed out, before saying. “What about that painting with the murderous daughter who blamed her father for years?”

Sam frowned. “It could be a cursed object, Dean.” 

"Great." Dean smiled, wiggling his eyebrows at Harry. “A supernatural treasure hunt.”

Harry thought for a moment, before saying. “If you buy me cotton candy, that's fine with me.”

And with that, they had made up their minds.

***

“Uh, guys.” Harry called when they finally arrived at the circus.

“Yes, kiddo?” Dean asked, smiling at Harry.

“I think they killed again.” Harry pointed towards where the police cars were parked.

Dean nodded. “You two stay in the car, I'll go see what happens.”

Then, the boy got out of the car.

“So, what do you think?” Sam asked Harry. “And it was a nice idea, to think of a cursed object.”

"Thank you." Harry felt himself blush.

Hermione had once said that Harry had difficulty dealing with compliments because he suffered from emotional deficiencies. She had also said that Harry craved physical contact and didn't know how to ask for it, which made him feel awkward and embarrassed in social interactions.

Harry hadn't appreciated Hermione's blunt diagnosis, but he hadn't questioned it. Usually, however, Hermione was right.

"Well, I, I don't know..." Harry shrugged. “It all seems taken from a book or comic, rather than real.”

“Yes, I can understand the feeling.” Sam nodded, smiling. “But do you like it?”

“I think I would have preferred to have a quieter summer, but for now I've only seen Dean get punched by Jo.” Harry smiled. “So it's turning out to be pretty incredible.”

Sam laughed amusedly, and Harry smiled at the boy.

“Okay, so, I wanted to ask you…” Sam said suddenly. “You took the possibility of a cursed object, or one possessed by a spirit, very well.”

“ Okay ?” Harry asked, feeling confused by the problem.

Shouldn't he have easily accepted the family business ?

“Have you already encountered an object possessed by a spirit?” Sam asked.

“Well, the diary said it was a memory and a print." Harry murmured slowly. “But it can't really be called a spirit , because the wizard who created it, Voldemort, he's still alive . More dead than alive, but he is capable of possessing wizards and living thanks to them. He possessed my first-year professor.” Harry explained.

Sam's mouth dropped open, but before he could say anything else, Dean got back into the car. “Two more murders tonight, father and mother torn to pieces. And they had a child with them.”

“Who saw a clown.” Sam murmured.

Dean shot him a look, and Sam responded with a. “What is it?”

“Yes, he saw a clown who vanished into thin air.” Dean said.

“How do you find a cursed object?” Harry asked, reaching up and looking between the two brothers. “Do they emit black smoke and an evil voice that warns everyone that they are cursed?”

Dean snorted. “Nah, they just emit an electromagnetic field.”

" Why ?" Harry blinked. “Are ghosts radioactive or something?”

“Not exactly,” Sam replied, slipping into what Harry would have called a professor's tone if he were with Hermione, and only in his own mind, “First of all, we can pick up three different radiations from spirits. Electromagnetic fields, radio waves or gamma or X-rays. The latter are not really detectable, but scientific studies have been conducted that could release this type of energy.”

Dean rolled his eyes, muttering what sounded like “ Geek ” under his breath, but Sam continued.

“We have EMF detectors that measure the presence of anomalies in electromagnetic fields that are associated with supernatural presences, such as spirits, poltergeists and other entities.” Sam said. “Basically, when a spirit is nearby or manifests, it produces a disturbance in the electromagnetic field that the EMF detector can pick up. Although they are not electromagnetic waves in the traditional sense, magnetic fields are part of the electromagnetic spectrum and are what is measured to detect the presence of paranormal activity.”

Harry nodded.

“Sometimes, supernatural entities interfere with radio frequencies, causing static or distortion in transmissions.” Sam continued to explain. “This phenomenon could be explained as a form of electromagnetic disturbance, although it is primarily… a warning signal.”

“Start with radios, continue with electromagnetics.” Harry summed up. “The EMF detector detects the electromagnetic field.”

"Exact." Sam smiled proudly.

Harry pointed to the circus. “How do you plan to spot a cursed object in a circus?”

“No one knows.” Dean murmured. “But we just need to find the one that emits electromagnetic radiation.”

“So easy.” Harry commented sarcastically. “It's going to be a blast.”

“Think that it will reopen this evening?" Dean asked, pointedly ignoring Harry.

Well, that was pretty rude , if Harry was being honest.

“I think they can't afford to stay closed.” Harry commented, glancing at people. “And they're not guilty, none of them. Kids will continue to want to come and parents will continue to bring them.”

Unless the child wasn't Harry , Harry thought annoyed.

In that case, they would have left the freak with the circus , and disappeared like the clown was apparently able to do.

“Well, kiddo,” Dean sighed, “we owe you some cotton candy, don't we?”

“It would be the least for dragging me to a place where there is a killer clown .” Harry nodded, making Sam snort in amusement and Dean shake his head.

Chapter Text

Sam didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't Dean scolding him for not wanting to go back to school.

“Really, now?” Sam asked Dean, fed up with his attitude. “I don't want to go back to school, not now.”

“I thought it was: once the demon is killed, I will leave forever .” Dean replied, narrowing his eyes.

“And now I've changed my mind, is that a crime?” Sam asked, glancing at Harry, who was enjoying some cotton candy.

“It's not a crime, it's just unexpected .” Dean said. “I didn't expect you to be all for hunting ever again.”

“And I didn't expect you to be all about keeping me out.” Sam replied. “Since it was you that brought me back inside in the first place.”

“Don't make it my fault now.” Dean warned Sam, suddenly looking tired.

“I'm not blaming you, Dean.” Sam sighed tiredly. “I'm just saying… things have changed and I need time to decide what I want, that's all.”

Dean sighed, before accepting the end of the argument. “Come on, let’s go.”

Sam and Dean walked back to Harry, who turned in time to see them.

“I was thinking… Why a clown?” Harry welcomed them.

Dean shrugged. “Tell me, why a clown?”

“Here's my theory.” Harry said, handing them an article from his folder. “Do you know what is missing from that article?”

“The date of the funeral?” Dean asked, blinking.

“Oh, no.” Harry gave him a strange look, probably wondering why a newspaper article would have the date of the funeral written on it. “Signs of forced entry at the entrance. The clown didn't break the door to get in, he was invited in.”

“Wait, what?” Sam grabbed the newspaper, skimming the article and realizing that Harry had been right.

“Do children let clowns into their homes?” Dean asked, frowning. "Why?"

“Because you shouldn't be afraid of clowns.” Harry replied. “They are your friends.”

Sam and Dean looked at him dumbfounded, before replying in unison. " What ?"

“These are not my words, they are words that that father just said to his son when that clown appeared behind him.” Harry pointed at the trio. “Those are ways to give a child a heart attack, anyway. I'm going to put little bells around the clowns here. They are too quiet.”

"Well." Dean nodded. “That makes… total sense.”

Sam murmured. "Yes. Imitate the thing you are taught to be fun and friendly. It's almost brilliant!"

“Being in a circus, it could have been a clown killed by angry parents because the child wasn't having enough fun.” Harry replied laconically, eating the cotton candy as if he hadn't just said anything strange. “But, yes, he is a brilliant spirit.”

Dean sighed. “No sugar for you, kiddo. And while we're on the subject: don't invite clowns into our house, okay?”

“I won't do it.” Harry nodded seriously. “I will directly invite a crazy man with a chainsaw, because at least he doesn't lie about his identity.”

Sam snorted in amusement, seeing Dean age as Harry spoke.

“Mom! Look at the clown!”

All three turned towards the little girl's voice, seeing nothing where the little girl was pointing.

“I think we found clown victim number three.” Dean murmured.

***

That evening, they were stationed in the van outside the house.

“Now comes the boring part, kiddo,” Dean said, turning slowly. “Stakeout without even a soundtrack.”

Sam also turned when he didn't hear Harry's sarcastic response, only to smile when he saw him sleeping curled up against the seat.

Then, Sam looked back at the computer on his calves.

“So, look here,” he said, drawing Dean's attention away from the family as they entered the house, “Mr. Cooper, before he owned Luna Park, worked for the Bunker Brothers.”

“The director.” Dean acknowledged. “Did he bring anything cursed between his previous job and this one?”

"Yes." Sam nodded. “Here, listen to this: I wanted this place to be a refuge for all those who couldn't belong. I wanted it to be a place for second chances like it was for me .”

“Those who couldn't belong?” Dean asked, tilting his head. "In what sense?"

“The blind knife thrower, the dwarf bearded woman, and the dwarf fire juggler.” Sam started listing. “Everyone who a normal circus would never have accepted has been accepted into Mr. Cooper's circus.”

“Okay.” Dean murmured, obviously in thought. “And did any of the Bunker brothers' early employees die in atrocious ways?”

“Not in the articles I found about it.” Sam admitted dejectedly. “I detected the beginnings of an electromagnetic field in the haunted house, though. I don't know what caused it, but it's worth a look.”

"Yes. With or without Harry?” Dean asked, pointing to the sleeping child.

Sam grimaced. 

On the one hand, they were hunting for cursed objects, which would be dangerous if the spirit was even half as combative as the evil little girl in the painting. Or Mary's. 

On the other hand, the spirit hunted at night, and Sam didn't want to leave Harry defenseless.

“Let's let him choose, okay?” Sam asked. “He could come with us. Alone…"

“…he would be vulnerable.” Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

Sam sighed.

He was starting to understand how Dean must have felt when he found out Sam was leaving for Stanford.

It wasn't a good feeling.

***

“Well, that wasn't a spirit.” Dean said as he, Sam and Harry walked away from the abandoned van.

Sam had watched the way Harry glanced at the abandoned van, but they couldn't take any chances.

The girl's parents had seen them near their daughter, and Sam wouldn't have been surprised if they had reported all the information to the police.

If Sam had memorized Jess's license plate after their first meeting, surely the little girl's father had learned the license plate of the men who were threatening his daughter by heart.

"Why?" Harry asked. “The little girl saw it, but no one else did.”

“The salt shots hit something solid.” Dean explained.

“A person?” Sam said. “A creature that can turn invisible?”

Harry snorted, and Sam gave him a curious look.

But the boy didn't explain what had amused him so much, and Sam didn't insist.

“Do you think we can call Ellen and ask her what she thinks?” Sam asked, looking at Dean.

Dean sighed. “Yes, it could work.”

Harry sat down as Sam picked up the phone, challenging Dean with his gaze.

Sam laughed, deciding that wasn't his problem.

***

“Rakshasa.” Sam said, turning back to Dean and Harry, watching with amusement at the way Harry was raising an eyebrow at Dean.

"What?" Dean asked.

“They appear human, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, they cannot enter the house without being invited.” Sam explained. “Harry, you were right. Children let clowns in because they are told they are good, and then they eat their parents.”

Harry grimaced. “Where do children go after their parents die?”

Sam shrugged. “A next of kin or in the American foster care system.” Sam shook his head.

“Why don't they eat children?” Dean asked.

“Maybe they don't have enough meat.” Sam offered. “I didn't find out much else, so we'd better go to a motel and do some research.”

“Or the local library.” Harry offered. “I saw one on the way here in the middle of nowhere.”

Sam nodded at Harry. "All right. Dean, will you take our stuff to the motel and then meet us at the library?”

“I can do that too.” Dean approved, taking the backpack shared between Sam and Harry.

***

“So, what did you find?” Dean asked, sitting down at Harry and Sam's table.

Sam grimaced. “Everything I found here is very vague. Some urban legend, or role-playing games.”

“I think I have something.” Harry murmured. “Here,” Harry licked his lips, starting to read quietly. “ In the Mahabharata the Rakshasas are described thus: «Terrible, yellowish, with teeth like rocks, powdery, disheveled hair, with long temples, with five feet and large bellies, with fingers pointing backwards, rough, deformed, making terrible sounds, covered with bells, blue in the neck, frightening, with bloodthirsty children and wives, horrible to look at, ruthless." They are the most famous and representative class of Indian demons.

In the description of the Ramayana they are led by the giant Ravana, Rama's opponent.

Like other spirits of the same genus, they love the night, especially if there is no moon, and haunt the most desolate places. They are particularly dangerous for children, but anyone must be careful that when drinking, eating or yawning, a Rakshasa does not enter the body. The children of these demons have the particularity of being already fully developed, as adults, from birth. Three types of Rakshasas can be distinguished: the servants of Kubera who, like him, are not evil; of the inferior spirits, similar to our goblins, but sometimes also to Orcs, mischievous, but also man-eaters; and finally a sort of titanic demons, subjected to Pavana, Kubera's half-brother, who fight, with almost equal weapons, the power of the gods. It is the latter who have their headquarters in Ceylon and who occupy an important part in the plot of the Ramayana. They have enormous bodies, they feed on blood, human flesh, and they have the ability to fly. ” Harry scrolled some more. “Uh, they fall under the demons, but not the demons of the Bible. Oh, and their victims are almost always grown men who have sinned. Children are pure and sacred beings. They are too unappetizing for creatures, and in some cases are even protected from evil entities. It is also said that his name shares the same etymology as the verb raksa, which means protector. Orcs, witches and vampires take inspiration from this class. Some commonalities and things like that.”

Harry looked up, blushing when he saw Dean and Sam's surprised looks.

“Great job, kiddo.” Dean approved. “How do we kill them?”

“Pure brass.” Harry said, looking at the page he had found. “Something related to the symbolism of metal, being composite from copper and zinc, and copper has been used extensively in magical and spiritual rituals in different cultures.”

“I guess it also has to do with the rarity of the weapon.” Sam sighed. “It's not a metal used to make weapons, usually.”

“So… we must make a brass weapon and then kill the Rakshasa.” Dean summed up.

“ Pure brass.” Harry and Sam corrected him at the same time, Sam then smiling at Harry.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Let's go find our brass, then.”

***

After they had killed the fake blind man, Sam, Dean and Harry had returned to Bobby.

Leaving Harry with Bobby, Sam went in search of his brother.

“You were right, you know?” Sam murmured.

Dean shot him a look as he continued to fix Baby. “About what?”

“About me and dad. You're right, what I do is too little, too late.” Sam sighed. “The truth is, I feel guilty for all the times I argued with him, and I feel guilty for feeling guilty. For all I know, Dad died thinking I hated him.”

Sam swallowed, fighting back tears, knowing how Dean felt about sissy moments, or movie moments, as he called them.

“I miss him, and I know you miss him too, and that you're hurting too.” Sam sighed. “That's all I wanted to tell you. I'll leave you to your work."

Sam turned away, leaving Dean alone with his Impala.

While still walking towards Bobby's house, Sam thought again about what the manager had said in that interview.

A place for those who didn't belong.

Sam snorted.

A boy with visions, a boy who didn't know how to deal with his emotions properly and believed that hunting was the way to keep his family together, and a wizard.

Which of them belonged anywhere else but with the other two?

None of them were normal.

Chapter Text

Dean had had to deal with Bobby's scowl when he said he couldn't go hunting for severed heads.

“And why not?” Bobby had snorted. “If I'm not mistaken, your car is fixed.”

"Not exactly." Dean murmured, refusing to feel guilty. “The trunk broke.”

“I thought the problem was in the engine.” Bobby commented, staring at Dean.

“And now it's in the trunk.” Dean replied. “And I have to paint Baby, look at her!”

Bobby glanced at the car, raising an eyebrow. “It's dusty, Dean. You just need to wash it a little. Harry and I can do it while you and Sam do the hunting.”

“Wait, Harry's not coming?” Dean asked, suddenly blinking. “What do you mean, Harry's not coming with us?”

“Do you want to take a child where there are severed heads ?” Bobby snorted. “What do you think he could be? A federal agent in training?”

Dean grimaced.

They could have made an excuse for Harry's presence. Or maybe, Dean mused, just keep him in their motel room until they were done with the hunt. 

The boy had been good with that Indian beast.

And Sam had spent a lot of time researching in their motel rooms, while Dean and their father hunted together.

Then he had fled to Stanford at the first opportunity he had, away from the hunt.

So perhaps it was best not to leave Harry alone in a motel room.

“He was good with his research.” Dean commented, looking at Bobby.

“There are telephones , boy.” Bobby groaned. “You can call your little brother as many times as you want just to make sure he's still alive.”

“Okay, okay.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “Just tell me where it is.”

“Red Lodge.” Bobby said. “Severed head in a morgue. It seems strange, boy.”

"All right. What did Sam say?” Dean asked, glancing at Bobby with a raised eyebrow.

Given Sam's new approach to hunting, Dean expected Sam to take the job without thinking twice.

“I caught him going for a run.” Bobby replied. “He's thrilled about it.”

Dean nodded.

“What time did he go for a run?” He then asked, curious. Was Sam suffering from visions again? Insomnia? Nightmares? All together?

“I don't know, four o'clock?” Bobby snorted. “You should ask Harry, the boy was already at work in the library."

Dean sighed. “Was Harry awake yet?”

Bobby nodded.

Two insomniacs. Dean's brothers were two damned insomniacs . 

"Let's go." Dean agreed.

***

“Hey, kiddo?”

Harry looked up from the papers he had spread around.

After they returned, Harry went back to study the supernatural creatures and improve his aim.

Dean wouldn't have been surprised if Harry had started a training regime to follow his brothers on the hunt. He already seemed used to taking risks and didn't seem like the type to back down when his friends were in danger.

"Yes?" Harry asked, straightening up manually Dean's gaze remained on him. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“Harry, you're an angel,” Dean snorted, incredulous at the very thought that Harry could do something wrong, “you literally can't do anything wrong.”

Harry's expression was doubtful, surely the words of his relatives in mind.

Dean should have taught him that rubbish shouldn't be repeated. And everything that came out of the Dursleys' mouths definitely fell into the rubbish category.

“So, what happens?” Harry asked, staring at Dean doubtfully.

Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair, before saying. “Sam and I have to go investigate a case.”

“The headless guy, right?” Harry asked, tilting his head. “There's Nearly Headless Nick at my school. He's a ghost."

Dean blinked. Ghosts in the school? What the hell was wrong with that school? Werewolves as teachers, murderous diaries, murderous professors, and now, nearly headless ghosts walking around the school.

“How can he be almost headless?” Dean asked cautiously, surprising himself that that was his question, and getting angry because, of all he could have asked, he had asked that . 

“Don't ask him.” Harry murmured. “He is sensitive on the subject. They sentenced him to death by decapitation a long time ago, and they weren't good enough at killing him. Nick's fine however, he is the ghost of my House. He even saved me from being hung upside down by my thumbs once.”

Dean hated Harry's nervousness.

First thing, he hated being the reason why Harry was nervous. Dean was the older brother, not the person Harry needed to be afraid of. It wasn't right and it made Dean feel so dirty he wanted to vomit.

Furthermore, when Harry was nervous he could either become very quiet or start talking about whatever was on his mind, which usually included a lot of stressful and completely wrong information .

“Okay, kiddo, for my own sanity, I'm going to pretend this conversation hasn't happened yet.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “Okay, then, Sam and I have to go hunting.”

“Yes, I heard there have also been previous cattle deaths.” Harry nodded, glancing at the books. “It may be an omen, but there aren't many demons that take over a person's body or generally decapitate their victims.”

At Dean's confused look, Harry picked up a few books, passing them to Dean.

“I found something. In Irish mythology there is the Dullahan , who is a headless horseman who rides a black horse. He decapitates his victims, and seeing one is often a harbinger of death. But he doesn't eat livestock, so he probably had nothing to do with it." Harry picked up another book, “In Slavic mythology, there is talk of Baba Yaga , who beheads victims and dismembers them for ingredients. According to tradition, she prefers human victims, but she lives in isolated places, quite far from population centers, so she could also feed on livestock in times of need.” Passing another book, Harry continued. “In South American folklore, particularly Chilean, there are the Chonchon . He is a sorcerer who can take off his own head and kill his victims in the same way. He might steal cattle, or use them as ingredients for spells.” 

Dean nodded, reading the information Harry had found. “It's quite cool, actually. Well done. Do you think it’s one of them?”

"I do not know. They're pretty wild , and the town where the attacks happened is pretty populated.” Harry grimaced. “But they could adapt to the times, right? Like bacteria? The more ways that are invented to fight them, the stronger they become.”

Dean laughed, unable to help himself. “Dude, did you just compare monsters to bacteria ?”

Harry blushed, but Dean continued laughing. 

After a while, too long a time, Harry relaxed.

“Anyway, I didn't want to put pressure on you for the case, kiddo.” Dean said. “I just wanted to warn you that we'll be busy with the case, but ask Bobby and he'll call us.”

And Dean really had to take the kid for a doctor's visit or something.

“Okay.” Harry nodded. “Bobby said I can help him with his hunting network.”

Dean shrugged. “If anyone asks you, you're just Bobby's friend. Don't give any last names. Not Potter, not Evans, not Winchester, okay? Our father had made a name for himself among hunters, it seems, and it seems the wizarding world is quite well known here. Don't give them reasons to come to you, okay? Stay out of trouble, kiddo.”

Harry nodded. “Usually, they're the ones who come looking for me , but of course. I'll be careful."

Dean sighed.

“You're going to give me gray hair, kiddo. Damn gray hair.”

Then, he stood up, going to find Sam to leave for the case.

***

“Harry did a great job.” Sam murmured, reading the email Bobby had sent him. “He seems to think it's none of those, though.”

Dean nodded, parking outside Candler County Hospital.

“At least it saved us from having to talk to the policeman to find out what they have so far.” Dean commented. “Since when does Harry know how to hack into fed reports, anyway?”

“Sounds like something Ash taught him.” Sam commented. “At least, I think. Or perhaps Harry has always been an extremely skilled hacker and is only now able to use his skills.”

Dean shot a dry look at Sam, who shrugged. “I learned with books, dude. Harry may have learned by following Bobby or calling one of Bobby's contacts. Or maybe Ash taught him. I do not know."

Dean sighed. “He's adapting surprisingly well to our lifestyle, Sammy. It scares me so damn much."

Dean knew Sam was staring at him, but luckily his brother didn't say anything. “Let's go see this head.”

Making fun of the guy on duty had been petty, but so much fun.

As Sam started to take the box to see the head, Dean said. “Do you think we should include Harry in the prank contest? Since when haven't we had a prank contest, Sam?”

“Since you were mortally offended by the glue on the beer and the order of your burger.” Sam said absently.

Dean felt irritated. Sam had completely cheated there. He'd ruined the fast food order, without even making Dean aware of how he'd done it.

Had it been while Dean had gone to the bathroom, or had Sam's bathroom break been replaced by the prank? Had Sam involved the staff members in his petty revenge?

How had he done it? He corrupted them?

“You completely cheated.” Dean said, glaring at Sam.

“Yes, those are the words of someone who loses .” Sam teased. “Okay, he doesn't have any marks on his head, so let's rule out Satanists.”

Dean nodded, staring at the head. “Do you think he might have something in his throat?”

“Excuse me?” Sam asked, looking at Dean.

“Something in his throat. As in the silence of the lambs.” Dean proposed.

Sam stared at Dean quite disgustedly. "Please." He said, handing him the box with the head.

“You do it.” Dean reciprocated, pushing his head into Sam again.

"No thank you. I'll pass." Sam grimaced in disgust, turning the head back towards Dean, who looked at him offended.

“I'm the eldest.” Dean played his card, and, of course, Sam had to play his. “Well, congratulations. But you have had the idea to look into the mouth to look for evidence left by the nerd monste r. It's your turn."

“Good, wimp .” Dean teased, hoping to get the usual reaction from his brother when he wanted to prove Dean wrong.

Sam didn't.

Dean then took a deep breath before putting his hands in the girl's mouth.

“God, that's disgusting.” Dean groaned, holding back a gag.

“Found anything?” Sam asked, looking at Dean with a scowl.

“No, just the vomit from my lunch.” Dean grimaced, pulling his fingers out of the woman's mouth, before noticing something.

"Wait." With two fingers, he lifted the girl's lip, before commenting. “There's a hole here.”

Sam watched as Dean pressed just above the hole.

“Retractable teeth.” Sam commented.

“ Fang .” Dean specified. “This is a vampire.”

Sam glanced at Dean.

***

That evening, they were on the phone with Harry.

“So, our victims were two vampires.” Dean explained to Harry, who was on speaker with one of Bobby's phones. Dean could hear the pages turning. “How do you explain the cattle being killed, magical boy?”

Harry muttered something, before saying. “ Hermione, my friend at Hogwarts, had said that there was a small magical community of vampires that relied on animal blood to survive .”

“Yes, Stefan.” Dean nodded, earning the dry look Sam gave him. “What is it? I can make a movie reference every now and then!”

“It's the second one you've done in less than three hours.” Sam pointed out dryly. “And I can't believe you like The Vampire Diaries!”

Dean smiled. “You recognized the reference, nerd!”

Sam blushed, turning his attention back to his phone. “Harry?”

“ If you're asking me who Stefan or The Vampire Diaries is, I have no idea. I grew up in a closet, there were no movies. ” Harry said dryly. “ If you want, I can see if there are any vampire lore. I can only imagine that they are slightly weaker if they don't feed on human blood. ”

"Why?" Dean asked. “Isn't it always blood?”

“ Well, I guess they drink human blood to survive, right? It's like their basic diet. Harry said. “ I guess it's like us without food. Like vegans! They complain about being tired if they don't have the right supplements, because animals have proteins that no vegetable can replace, right? So I guess if human blood is meat for vampires, animal blood is a kind of tofu .”

Dean burst out laughing. “Dude, first you compare monsters to bacteria, now vampires who don't feed on human blood to vegans. You're becoming my favorite!”

“ And you apparently make quite controversial film references. ” Harry replied sarcastically, in true Sammy style. “ I'm not sure I should take this as a compliment. ”

“You are definitely my favorite.” Sam said, interjecting like the opportunist he was.

Dean gave him an offended look, a look that only deepened when Harry responded. “ Now, that's a compliment. Thanks, Sam! ”

Dean waved at the boy, ending the call, before glancing at his brother.

Sam, in response, smiled innocently. "What?"

"What?" Dean imitated him. “Shut up, bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam replied, without hesitation.

In his mind, Dean was thinking about what nickname he could give Harry. If Sam was a bitch, Dean was a jerk, what could Harry have been?

***

“How's it going, buddy?” Dean greeted the bartender.

“A real blast.” The man replied, sounding decent despite the shady atmosphere of the place. “What do you want?”

“Two beers, thanks.” Dean replied, placing the money on the table.

“We're looking for someone.” Sam said. 

The bartender winked at Sam. “I understand, it's hard to be alone.”

Dean frowned. Had the bartender just hit on his little brother?

Sam replied, without hesitation. “Yeah, well, not quite what I meant. You see, the ones we're looking for recently moved in, nocturnal types.”

“They make a mess.” Dean said, interjecting, if only to divert the bartender's attention from his little brother. “They sleep during the day, probably.”

“Must be the guys from the Barker farm, then.” The bartender replied. “I had to kick them out a couple of times. Noisy guys. They didn't make much of a mess, nothing serious. I just wanted to avoid trouble, you understand?”

"Certainly." Sam left a tip, quite a large one, on the counter. “Perfectly understandable, mate.”

"Thank you." Dean intervened, once again diverting the bartender's attention from his brother.

"Good evening." The bartender replied, sliding a note towards Sam. “If you can think of anything else to ask me…”

Dean glanced at Sam as they walked out. “Did the bartender just hit on you?”

“He left me his phone number.” Sam replied, showing the note to Dean. “By the way, have you noticed our friend?”

"Yes. Tall, dark and dark?” Dean joked.

“You really need to stop with your references, Dean.” Sam scolded him. “I set the limit. Three every hunt. You are not allowed to do one more.”

“Okay, okay.” Dean sighed. "Ambush?"

“He's definitely following us.” Sam checked behind yes, using a rear view mirror of a parked car. “I think he thinks he's a ninja or something.”

"Obviously." Dean sighed. “Come on, let’s do this.”

Sam followed Dean to a dead end, hiding behind some stairs to make his ambush.

When the tall, dark, dark guy made his appearance, Sam slammed him against the wall, while Dean held the knife to his throat.

“Hey, what the hell?” The guy exclaimed.

“Put a big smile on your face for the press, man.” Dean urged him.

“I'm not a vampire.” The guy defended himself. “Who the hell are you?”

“Show us yours and we'll show you ours?” Dean proposed again. He knew about vampires. If he wasn't one of them… he had to be one of the good ones.

The guy, showing his unarmed hand, raised it to his upper lip. “No fangs, see? It's up to you."

Letting go of the boy, Sam and Dean showed off their hole-free gums.

"What is your name?" Sam asked.

“Gordon Walker.” The guy replied. “And you are?”

“Dean, this is my brother Sam.” Dean introduced himself, purposely omitting his last name.

But John seemed to have been tight-lipped when it came to his children and their occupation.

“Winchester?” Gordon's face lit up. “I met your father. A great hunter.” 

Then, after a moment's pause. “I heard about his death. I am sorry."

"Thank you." Sam accepted condolences from the total stranger.  

Dean, however, asked. “Did you kill those two vampires?”

Gordon nodded. "Yes. I followed them from Austin to here.”

“Do you want a hand?” Dean offered. “I could really use a good hunt right now.”

He didn't like hunting at all. Dean just wanted to go check on Harry and make sure he was okay.

But Gordon knew them, and Dean knew what John must have said: Dean hunts, Sam studies.

“Sorry, guys, I'm a loner.”

***

Dean was on the phone that same evening.

Bobby lived fairly close to the next town over, of course, and Dean was booking a visit for Harry.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, looking into the room and frowning at Dean.

He had his suitcase ready to go home.

Gordon took care of the case, and they went home.

“I'm calling for an eye exam.” Dean said. “Harry must have a new prescription.”

Sam stared at him in amusement, and Dean rolled his eyes where Sam could see him.

“ Hello, how can I help you? ” The secretary's voice reached him.

“Hello, good morning, I'm calling to book an eye exam.” Dean said.

“ Name and what day? ” The voice came soon after. “ I have a break next week, from 2pm to 3pm, on Friday. Can it be okay? ”

"Perfect." Dean nodded. “And the visit is for my brother Harry.”

“ Be sure to bring his medical history, please. ” The secretary replied.

“Uh, sure. Thank you." Dean said quickly, not sure if Harry had a medical history. “Should I leave you a number or…?”

“ No, I'll just use the one you called from. ” The woman replied again. “ Thank you, Mr. Singer .”

“You too. Good day." Dean nodded, before ending the call and glancing at Sam. “Don't even say a joke, Sammy.”

“No, I'm just saying…” Sam smiled amusedly. “You're a really good big brother, that's all.”

Dean gave him a dry look. “ Don't say anything. ”

Sam chuckled.

***

Following Gordon into the vampire lair had been Sam's idea.

“We just have to take a look.” Sam had said. “Do you remember dad and his confidence that he could get away with a vampire den? Gordon is not a dad.”

In the end, as always, Sam had been right.

They had saved Gordon's life, and then Dean had found himself sharing the best moments of being a hunter with each other.

“Come on, Sammy, you need to learn to enjoy work a little more.” Gordon said, smiling at Sam.

Dean snapped his fingers. “You know, that's what I always tell him too! You have to enjoy it, have fun.”

Sam snorted. “I don't think cutting off someone's head is cause for celebration.”

“It wasn't a someone ,” Gordon replied, “it was a vampire , a monster. It wasn't human, like you and me."

Dean felt something strange in this formulation. This implied that Gordon would kill Harry , Dean's brother, just because he had some magical power.

And Dean didn't like that.

"Okay, it doesn't matter." Sam snorted. “Dean, I'm going back to the motel. I don't want to ruin your party.”

“Are you sure?” Dean asked him.

Sam nodded, standing and heading towards the door.

“Is that something I said?” Gordon asked, looking confused.

“He has a bad mood sometimes.” Dean shrugged. “And they don't like to think that they were once human.”

“Now they’re not anymore.” Gordon growled.

“No, they’re not.” Dean agreed, asking if he should have followed Sam back at their motel.

***

When, a few hours later, Harry called him scared, because he couldn't call Sam, Dean wished he had made a different choice.

Chapter Text

Harry could tell that Dean wasn't happy about Harry staying at Bobby's.

Not because he suddenly believed that Dean and Sam loved him so much just because of some shared DNA (because, in the end, that's what they had in common, and it wasn't even that high of a percentage ), but because he felt ( or eavesdropped , it would have been more truthful) Dean complaining to Bobby first and to Sam immediately after, asking why Harry couldn't have followed them.

He had done well on the previous hunt.

Dean had liked Harry so much that Dean wanted to have him again next time.

And Harry was happy to realize that his brother wanted him at that point.

Even if it was just for research .

Dean had defended him as much as he had defended Baby from Bobby.

No, Harry refused to comment that he had been put on the same level as a car (and to think that he had put his Nimbus Two Thousand on the same level as his best friends, because his Nimbus Two Thousand and his Firebolt were marvels that deserved to be on the same level as them) or that he had accepted that Baby was the name of the car .

The madness was genetic.

Harry could accept that.

And he didn't have much basis for denying it.

When he heard the sound of the car moving away (Harry was sure it wasn't Baby because Dean hadn't been very careful with his start, and Dean would have killed anyone who mistreated Baby , himself included), Bobby re-entered the room, glancing at the books around Harry.

“Boy, your brothers are going to be gone for a while.” Bobby began. “So, here's what we're going to do.”

Harry prepared for the usual command: Stay in your room and pretend you don't exist , but instead, Bobby said something else.

“In the morning we will do some research. You can go for a run if you wake up early, but don't think I'll come after you. I'm no longer young enough." Bobby warned, as if some part of Harry would be crazy enough to try to force the man to take him running. “Dean gets overprotective if he doesn't hear your voice, poor boy , so I'll give you a phone. I'll pop into town later to pick one up.”

Harry blinked. 

A telephone? For Harry? A phone bought personally and specifically for Harry and no one else?

Probably, Harry thought, Harry was now actually in a coma from being hit by the Whomping Willow after a Quidditch match.

Sirius wasn't his godfather, and Dean, Sam, and Bobby didn't exist.

It made perfect sense .

“And, well, I'll have to take you suitable clothes. I saw the ones you brought, and they are absolutely no good.” Bobby groaned. “I'm surprised you didn't burn them.”

Harry frowned. 

Bobby then looked at him. “Anything to ask, boy?”

Harry reflected. 

Well, he still had to warn his friends that he hadn't been in England for a while, didn't he?

But then, did Harry really want to call Hermione , the only one he could contact without Hedwig there, and make her worry about him?

No, maybe it was better to wait a little bit.

Only until Harry had some sort of strategy for talking to Hermione.

Or maybe enough material with which to distract her .

That could work quite well too.

“Actually, I would like to learn how to fight.” Harry murmured. “I mean, I can help you with networking and everything, but… I'd like to be able to help my brothers if needed.”

Bobby gave him a smile. “Boy, you really are a Winchester.”

At the time, Harry thought it was the greatest compliment Bobby could think of.

It was definitely the biggest compliment Harry could think of.

*****

When Bobby had handed him the phone with a ' call your damn brother ' grunt, Harry had done so, taking note of both the teasing between his brothers and the news of the hunt.

By the time he had ended the call, telling his brothers about Hermione had made him feel guilty for having avoided informing Hermione of his leaving. Without Hedwig, he couldn't warn Ron, but he knew that Hedwig would take a long time to get to her destination.

Then, he glanced at Bobby, starting to ask him if he knew how to find a number in the phone book, but the gruff man beat him to it.

“It has a plan set up for overseas calls, so you can call your friends.” Bobby informed him. “I also added Granger's number in your contacts. It's the one at home, obviously, I don't know if your friend has a personal one."

Harry smiled. “Thanks, Bobby!”

Bobby grunted, before standing up and saying. “Oh, I also put your new clothes in the room. With some weapons you might want to learn how to use them.”

Harry nodded, watching Bobby stomp out of the room, giving him the privacy he needed to talk to Hermione.

Scrolling through the address book, Harry reached Granger, before selecting the contact and letting the phone ring.

“ Hello ? ” A male voice replied. 

Harry assumed he was Hermione's father.

“Good morning, Mr. Granger. I'm Harry, a friend of Hermione's. Is she at home?” Harry asked politely.

“ Certain. One moment, please. ”

Harry smiled at the man's very English way of asking for a moment. Dean would have sworn about fifteen times in there.

“ Hello? Harry, is that really you? ”

“Hermione!” Harry's face broke into a huge smile at hearing his friend's voice. “It's so nice to hear from you, even though I'm pretty sure it's not really me!”

A silence greeted Hermione's words.

Then, in a calm voice, Hermione asked. “ What do you mean? ”

“I'm pretty sure it's all a dream and that I'm actually in the hospital wing from a blow to the head after a Quidditch match.” Harry revealed. “Am I in a coma?”

“ Harry, you're not in a coma . ” Hermione replied.

“And that's what you would say even if I were in a coma for real. ” Harry pointed out.

“ Okay, but you would notice you were in a coma. ” Hermione said. " There are echoes of the real world. So if nothing strange happens, you are not in a coma . ”

“Hermione, it almost seems like you don't know me !” Harry exclaimed, then checking to make sure Bobby hadn't heard him raise his voice. Finding that the man hadn't heard or didn't think it was necessary to go and check, he continued in a more controlled tone. “ Everything that happens in my life is crazy .”

“ All right . ” Hermione sighed, clearly worn out by her conversation with Harry. “ Stranger than usual, then . ”

“Okay.” Harry nodded. “My father was called John Winchester and I have two older brothers called Sam and Dean, and I live with them now. Is this weirder than normal, or are we used to this by now?”

The truth, the sad truth , was that they were used to that by now.

And Hermione's sigh, just a measly sigh and not even too deep, was clear proof of this.

“ Tell me everything .” Hermione demanded. “ Even if you think it's not important, Harry, tell me everything. ”

“First of all, I'm not in England anymore.” Harry began. “I was picked up from the Dursleys by Dean and Sam, and now I'm in America, which is where they live.”

Hermione didn't intervene, so Harry explained the test, the discovery of his brothers' work, how it had helped, and how he would help in the future.

“Sam is very soft-spoken, calm, and kind.” Harry concluded. “He clearly cares for me, and is as used to having a younger brother as I am to having two older ones. Dean has more experience, and he also told me I can call him whenever I want. For whatever reason.”

Dean hadn't said that. But he had insisted that Harry have a phone, so Harry assumed it was the same thing.

“ I didn't know there were muggles who knew about our world .” Hermione commented, clearly fascinated. “ It's extremely interesting, but also very dangerous. This is a huge risk! I wonder how the decision was made… a referendum, some muggle-born from a family of hunters, meetings between important parts of the two factions… ”

“The way hunters operate,” Harry began, “I think a mix of hunter wizards, or squibs who became hunters. Entwining, they saw that it was a different magic than their witches, and they accepted it. They have no leaders, not like us. And a referendum ? I don't even know how they could have a referendum in England on an American issue.”

“ Do you think there are hunters here in England too? ” Hermione looked excited. “ It would be so interesting to find them, compare their knowledge… ”

“I'm learning something, so, I'm available for your questions, Mione.” Harry said. “And if I don't know something, Bobby, Dean and Sam will answer it. By the way, do you know anything about vampires?”

“ Of course I know about vampires, Harry, they were on the first year curriculum! They are transformed by drinking the blood of their sire, some believe that you must die with vampire blood in your body, others that you must drink human blood, others that it is enough to have a relationship with the vampire himself to transform. ” Hermione was starting to quote their textbook. Harry could feel it in his gut.

“I meant, more… vegan vampires ?”

“ What do you mean by vegan? They can't help but drink human blood, they would die! ”

“What if they drank animal blood? Is it possible?” Harry asked.

“ Well, they would be a little weaker, but… of course, it would be possible. Although now, with donations and everything, it would be so easy to get human blood without hurting anyone! It's one of the agreements between the Ministry and vampires here in England! ”

Harry found it disgusting, but said nothing so as not to upset Hermione.

“If you feel up to it, can you send me what you know via message?” Harry asked. “Maybe even, I don't know, leave me your cell phone number? So as not to keep the line busy and not send Hedwig overseas.”

“ Of course ! ” Hermione shrieked.

Harry thought she was excited because it was the first time Harry had asked for something more than the minimum for the school work.

Seeing her enthusiasm, Harry said. “And, if you want… you can also tell me about your other lessons. I think Divination is a bit of nonsense, maybe I could swap it for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy, right?”

Hermione made a sound that Harry couldn't quite place, but it was okay.

“ What are your brothers like? ” Hermione asked.

Harry stopped, blinking.

What were his brothers like?

Courageous, intelligent, skilled, adventurous, but also thoughtful, quite noisy, short-tempered, nervous...

“Perfect.” Harry decided. “They are exactly as they should be.”

“ Are you happy? ” Hermione insisted. “ Do they treat you well? ”

“Hermione, I don't think I've ever been so happy in my life.” Harry said sincerely.

“ Then I have nothing to say. ” Hermione said, and Harry could feel her smile. “ I'm happy for you, Harry. You really deserve it. ”

"Thank you." Harry swallowed, fighting back tears. “Uh… can I ask who Stefan and The Vampire diaries are?”

Harry had no idea why Hermione had burst out laughing.

*******

Harry fiddled with his phone.

Dean had talked about a guy named Gordon who had gotten into trouble and who they had saved.

But he also said that John had many enemies, and they might be hunters jealous of his success.

Harry had had enemies who were wizards who were jealous of him, who should have been on the same side.

It made sense that it was a hereditary problem.

So, he called someone who could answer his doubts.

“ Harvelle’s. ”

Harry smiled at Ellen's voice. “Hi, Ellen, I'm Harry. Potter, that is, Winchester… Evans? We met last time."

“ I remember you, Harry . ” Ellen reassured him.

Harry was grateful that his nervous gasping had been stopped. Dean almost never stopped him, or too late , and Harry had already revealed too much to Dean. 

He wanted no mercy from this stranger .

“ What can I do for you? Are you hunting with your brothers? ”

“No, they went to deal with some vampires.” Harry said. “And they met a certain Gordon Walker.” Harry checked to make sure the name was right before continuing. “What do you know about him?”

“ He's a good hunter . ” Ellen said, her tone of voice controlled.

“A good man too?” Harry checked, noticing the woman's cautious tone of voice.

His brothers were with Gordon.

“ No. Look, warn your brothers to stay away from Gordon. He's an extremist. He's not worth the trouble he brings. ” Other than these.

Harry gasped. “I'll call Sam and tell him. Thank you, Ellen.”

“ Certain. Come and visit us soon . ” Ellen waved, before ending the call.

After hanging up, Harry tried to contact Sam.

Of the two, he was the one most likely not to be in a bar drinking.

Dean would respond, but he would be with Gordon.

And Harry didn't think it would be nice to say: Hey, your friend is some kind of extremist who no one likes, stay away from him!

Yes, it could have been slightly offensive.

However, Sam didn't answer, sending Harry straight to voicemail.

Hey, I'm Sam!

“Yes, I know who you are, dammit!” Harry exclaimed, before calling his other brother.

Who answered on the first ring.

“ Hi, Harry, how are you? Everything is fine? ”

“Is Sam with you?” Harry asked.

Was it rude not to say hello and reassure Dean? Sure, but Sam wasn't answering his phone.

“ No, he's back in the motel . ” Dean replied. “ Why ?"

“His phone is sending me to voicemail.” Harry explained.

Which wasn't like Sam.

“ I'll go look for him .” Dean said, before ending the call.

Harry just hoped he could find Sam.

Chapter Text

Sam woke up groggily, having no idea where he was.

He was tied up, he realized belatedly. Well, tight, but… not too painful.

The chair was wooden, old, Sam could feel the dampness under his fingers.

The floor was ruined in one place, the tiles removed, lifted, and crumbled.

Sam could smell the field’s life .

An abandoned building in the middle of nowhere.

Yes, it wasn't suspicious at all .

“I know you're awake.” A female voice said. “Your heartbeat is racing up.”

Sam opened his eyes, looking at the person who had most likely brought him there.

A woman, with wavy dark brown hair, dark, almost black eyes, pale skin.

“The vampires, I presume.” Sam said, moving his wrists, testing the ropes binding him. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

The woman smiled slightly. “My name is Lenore. You are here because of a request from me.”

“I'm not joining for dinner, sorry, I'm still full from the snack I had before.” Sam taunted the vampire.

“I wasn't inviting you to dinner, Sam.” Lenore said. “I just want to ask you for eight hours.”

“Of what?” Sam blinked in surprise.

“Of time . Give us eight hours and we'll be out of town.” Lenore promised. “I'm only asking for eight hours .”

“So we should let you get away with all the murders ?” Sam scoffed even at mere idea.

“We're not the ones killing, it's Gordon who's killing us .” Lenore exclaimed, finally seeming animated for the first time during their conversation. “We don't feed on people, only on livestock .”

“It was you with the cows.” Sam deduced, realizing that their initial idea was correct .

They met the real Vampires-Stefan .

Lenore nodded. “It weakens us a little, but it's the only way to not hurt humans.”

Sam stood still, pondering the idea, fighting the hope that was working its way up his chest from his heart.

“Just give us eight hours to leave.” Lenore asked again. "Please." She then begged.

Sam remembered their last encounter with vampires.

Against three hunters, they would have had no problem.

Yet Lenore was begging . Lenore wasn't hurting him. Lenore seemed sincere .

“We didn't ask to be vampires.” Lenore continued. “And we're looking for a way to not hurt anyone else. Why do we have to be killed?”

Sam closed his eyes.

Sam had visions, visions related to the Yellow-Eyed Demon, Azazel . Sam was a monster, but Sam hadn't asked to be a monster and Dean hadn't killed him and would never kill him.

Sam was alive, why couldn't Lenore and her people be?

"All right." Sam agreed. “I can convince Dean, but there's nothing I can do about Gordon.”

“We don't expect that from you.” Lenore reassured him, excusing the lack of opportunity to actually help . “But even if you and Dean back out, that's more than enough for us.”

Sam had accepted the deal, the hope that had gripped him hard to fight.

Then, he had been blindfolded and taken back to the motel.

He had been brought back safe and sound , without even a scratch on him, to the motel where he had been taken.

Motel currently occupied by Gordon and Dean.

“The vampires must have taken him, Dean.” Gordon was saying, hand balled into a fist on the table, a map spread out in front of the two of them. “We must act before everything ends up like with my sister!”

Sam had no idea what Gordon meant, but he knew he couldn't let them go.

"I am here." Sam exclaimed, raising his hands and showing his empty gums to his brother and Gordon, thinking that the hunter might accuse him of becoming one of them and killing him in a heartbeat. “But I appreciate the thought, man.”

Gordon nodded. “Anything for another hunter.”

Dean, however, walked towards Sam with a determined step, his expression stormy, then pulling him into a tight hug.

In a low voice, he said. “Harry told me you weren't answering your phone. I thought you were in danger..."

Sam felt his chest loosen.

Sam was a monster, but Dean was worried about what might happen to him.

"After." Sam promised, also speaking softly.

Eight hours.

He could give Lenore eight hours.

And since he couldn't stop Gordon from his hunt…

“We still have to search for their hideout.” Sam announced. “Gordon is right, it's too dangerous.”

Gordon seemed pleased by Sam, disgusting Sam to no end , but Dean was looking at him shocked, as if he couldn't recognize Sam .

“Any ideas?” Sam asked, ignoring his brother and looking at the map spread out on the table, trying to figure out how the vampires would leave the city and how to stop Gordon from catching them while they did.

Would they take a bus? That would have been very smart. Gordon couldn't have killed the vampires if they were surrounded by people .

Gordon began to explain what he had, and Sam listened intently.

He had to know how Gordon thought in order to stop him.

*****

“Where have you been?” Dean asked. “And how long have you been all about killing vampires?”

Sam and Dean were in the car, behind Gordon's red van, heading towards an abandoned farm.

Gordon had said they were in one, but he wasn't sure which one it might be.

Four hours.

They had spent four hours strategizing and gathering weapons, Sam would make sure they spent as much time looking for them.

“Were you with Gordon the whole time?” Sam asked. “While I wasn't there, I mean?”

Because if Gordon had been alone for even a second with their things or their car, that would have been a problem .

Sam didn't know if Gordon knew how to use bugs, but he seemed exactly the type to spy on his own hunting buddies.

I hunt better alone.

“Of course, he was with me when Harry called to say he couldn't reach you.” Dean started to say, still following Gordon's van. “He speculated that the vampires might have taken you to take revenge for the loss of one of them, and we went together to try to find out where you might have been.” Sam felt his gaze on his neck. “Sammy?”

“The vampires took me. And I don't want to kill them." Sam said. “I'm just giving them time to get away from him .”

Dean swallowed. “They're monsters, Sam.”

"Me too." Sam replied. "Will you cut my head as well, Dean?”

Dean winced, gripping the steering wheel.

“Then, trust me . Lenore doesn't deserve this.” Sam promised his brother, heart lightening at how sick Dean seemed at the opportunity to hurt his brother. “I'm here, perfectly unharmed, right?”

“It's an empty search, then?” Dean asked. “Are they even here?”

“They’re in one of these farms.” Sam nodded. “Judging by the route we've taken, they were over a bridge, so I'd say much further than here.”

Dean snorted. “Did you start the search from the opposite side on purpose ?”

“I just want to give them a chance to live.” Sam replied, defending himself.

“I wasn't judging you, Sammy.” Dean said.  “I was impressed . Gordon didn’t realize anything was wrong.”

“You said Harry tried to call me?” Sam changed the subject, feeling guilty for not having responded to his other brother.

They assured him he could call any time of day, and when he called Sam, Sam didn't answer.

Dean nodded and Sam picked up the phone, calling Harry.

“ Sam !"

Sam grimaced, feeling even more guilty . “I'm sorry, Harry. I was kidnapped, I didn't have my phone with me.”

Dean gave him a dry look, as if to reproach him for upsetting Harry, but the boy responded with a sigh of relief.

“ It happened to Ron once too. Never for me, but maybe it's because I usually like to go alone, without needing to be kidnapped before . ”

Dean sighed tiredly, rubbing the forehead and muttering something like ' damn gray hair ', but Sam just smiled, incredibly relieved.

“It could be a family thing .” Sam offered, feeling Harry's amusement even over the phone. “Look, we're on the hunt for vampires. We'll call you later, okay?”

“ I heard the quotation marks from here . ” Harry murmured instead, completely ignoring what Sam had said. “ Are you still with Gordon? Ellen said it is inadvisable to stay with him. He's an exalted man . ”

Sam looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow, proud that he had been right all along.

“We'll render him harmless, kiddo.” Dean promised. “And we will be careful.”

Harry snorted. " You said it. Don't get too hurt when things go wrong . ”

“Things are going to be great, kiddo.” Dean protested. “You'll see.”

***

Things had gone wrong.

Gordon had managed to find the vampires, Dean had almost joined him in his decision to exterminate them all, but then he had decided to trust Sam and they had both managed to knock Gordon out, then tying him to a chair to keep him away from the vampires.

Dean turned to Sam, glancing at Gordon and looking at the vampires. “Take them to safety. I'll keep an eye on Gordon."

Sam nodded.

Evidently, Dean had decided that vampires were less dangerous than Gordon, and so had sent his little brother with them.

As he drove towards the bus station, the three vampires were staring at him in silence.

“The others?” Sam asked, looking at Lenore, sitting next to him.

“We were the last ones who had to leave.” Lenore replied. “They are already far away, heading towards the next meeting point.”

"That’s good." Sam nodded, relieved.

Lenore wasn't a monster, and neither was Sam.

“You chose a monster over another hunter.” Lenore murmured, sounding surprised.

“I did the right thing.” Sam replied. “And I promised you.”

"Thank you." Lenore smiled. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Sam smiled back.

It was a good feeling, doing the right thing, saving people.

It made him feel less dirty and more Sam .

"When you want." Sam promised.

****

Back at Bobby's, Sam smiled the entire time Dean hovered worriedly around Harry, checking to see if he'd eaten.

Harry was much more interested in showing him what he had learned: Sam had never seen someone learn to shoot a gun in such a short time.

“Bobby said I can learn to shoot a bow and arrow!” Harry smiled. "I can't wait!"

Sam shook his head, amused.

He couldn't remember ever being so excited about learning to shoot a bow, but Sam suspected it had more to do with John than the activity itself.

He had enjoyed shooting arrows when Dean was around.

The older brother had always been proud.

“By the way, it was nice of you,” Sam said, “to send me all that information for Lenore and the other vampires.”

Harry had in fact called Hermione Granger, his best friend in England, who had been quick and very precise to send all the information regarding the agreements between wizards and vampires in England, claiming that in America things were all much more well structured and progressive.

The message also included a threat to Sam and Dean, saying that if they ever hurt Harry, no one would ever find their bodies.

And also an additional file just for Harry, to broaden his studies and explore other courses.

Sam wondered why Harry even needed to learn those things. It wasn't as if Dean would let him go to a school where Harry would be in daily danger .

“Lenore deserves better.” Harry shrugged. “Just because she's considered a monster doesn't mean she is or should be one.”

Sam smiled. “I agree with you.” 

Maybe he and Harry were made of the same thing.

Both were forced to see themselves as the strange ones, the wrong ones , when in reality they weren't .

Harry was a wizard, Sam was some kind of psychic.

Neither of them were monsters.

And Sam wouldn't change any of that. 

Chapter Text

Dean wasn't anxious.

Dean wasn't going to get anxious just over a little thing like that . 

“Did you get Hermione Granger's call too?” Sam's voice made him jump. “I don't think I've received this many threats before. And we have received many threats in our life.”

Dean shivered. 

Harry had called his friend while they were on a vampire hunt (which was fine , because Dean wasn't going to be the brother who kept his younger brother from having friends or maintaining connections to a life that hadn't included Dean ), and Hermione Granger had decided that setting the record straight with the two of them was an essential thing to do for Harry's safety. 

Which, again, was fine . 

Harry deserved friends who defended him with everything they had, who didn't let anything stop him from defending him and protecting him, not even physical distance or legality . 

And Dean, as Sam had just pointed out, had been dealing with demons and monsters for as long as he had four years , therefore a fourteen year old girl shouldn't have been a problem. 

But, damn it, Hermione Granger was damn terrifying. 

"That's not it." Dean shook his head, because it wasn't really a problem. 

Dean was scared, but he could handle the challenge Hermione had thrown at him. 

Taking care of his younger brother was what Dean did best, and taking care of Harry would be exactly like taking care of Sam. 

And, now, Dean was older and had already played that game once, with less experience and a lot more worry. 

It would have been child's play. 

“ Sure ,” Sam said, sarcastically, “I'm sure you have no trouble digesting the fact that you've been emotionally and mentally shattered and scarred for life by a fourteen-year-old girl. So if it's not the mental wound that will never heal again, what are you thinking?”

“It will soon be the thirty-first of July.” Dean murmured. “Harry's birthday, especially. And I have to throw a surprise party for our little brother.”

Sam nodded. "Right. And when are you going to tell him that you won't let him go back to Hogwarts?"

Dean gave Sam a dry look, his eyes narrowing. “When we're both ready for that particular discussion. And now is not the time.”

“Look,” Sam, like Dean expected he would have done, he completely ignored Dean's wishes and continued talking about a fundamentally useless thing , “I know that you want Harry to stay. But you can't make him stay, Dean. You can't come into his life and start controlling it.”

“I'm his older brother.” Dean bit out, knowing he was being too harsh towards his brother, but not wanting to change his mind. "It's my job to take care of my thirteen-year-old brother. I thought you would understand! You yourself said several times that you wanted a safe life , Sam. How can you let him go to Hogwarts? It seems more dangerous than all our hunts combined!”

“I know you're worried, Dean, and I certainly don't want to push Harry into danger.” Sam sighed. “Just, listen to me for a moment, okay? You can't force Harry. It won't work, trust me.”

“Why wouldn't keeping him safe work?” Dean asked, annoyed, staring at Sam with narrowed eyes. He just wanted to finish a surprise party and pass the first test Hermione Granger had thrown at him, not argue about Harry with Sam. 

“Because you would oblige him to stay here, and Harry would see you as the bad guy that keeps him away from his life, from the life that was his until a month ago .” Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I wanted a safe life, and I walked away from you. I didn't want to distance myself from either of you, but when Dad brought up the school or you thing, I got mad and decided that if he was going to try to control me, he might as well see for the first time what it was like to hear the word no .” Sam looked down. “I wasn't really thinking clearly, about Mom or you, or… well, about anything other than the fact that I was sick of being treated like a soldier , of the careless way Dad sent us hunting, saying that families deserved a moment of tranquility, a family Christmas, while we never spent one together.”

Dean swallowed. They never talked about Stanford, they never talked about their distance. 

It was an unwritten agreement. Don't mention that part of their life. 

“Dean, to prove a point, I haven't spoken to Dad in four years . And, after you insisted too much, I stopped talking to you for two .” Sam shook his head. “I know Harry and I are not the same person, but… the possibility of him reacting badly to your desire to protect him is very high.”

"Why?" Dean asked, his voice hoarse. “I just want to keep him safe .”

“Well, you've seen his relatives , haven't you?” Sam suddenly had an annoyed expression, due to his inability to get back at the three beings who had been bothering their little brother for a long time, for too long. Any trouble Sam threw at them was mysteriously resolved in short order.  “I don't think Harry is used to having adults who genuinely care about his needs and have his well-being in mind. I think he's more used to being controlled, threatened and teased. He would see your interest in him as a way of controlling him, and keeping him under control.”

“But that's not it…” Dean sighed. “That's not what I want to do.”

“I know, and Harry will know too.” Sam said. “That's why you need a plan for when you confront Harry about it, because he won't see it positively.”

Dean took a deep breath. “I feel terribly guilty.”

“Don't be.” Sam shook his head. “Now, we can plan the best birthday party for Harry and then figure out how to tell him that, well… going back to Hogwarts might be a little trickier than expected.”

Dean smiled. “I'm surprised you don't want him to go back there, you know, with all your insistence on education and stuff.”

“I want Harry to be safe and happy.” Sam replied cautiously. “And I want to make sure he has everything he needs. If he wants to go back to Hogwarts, I'll have to think of a way for him to have him under control and safe. I'm even willing to move into the castle illegally to keep him safe, if needed. And I know that Hermione Granger, and the wizarding family that was mentioned in the threats, will be willing to keep him safe." Sam sighed. “That said, knowing all of this , I think Harry would return to Hogwarts out of a sense of duty, for a responsibility that isn't really his responsibility, and to find a sense of belonging somewhere. Hermione and Ron, his best friends… they are also his family, Dean, and Harry sees Hogwarts as his home. I think it's this, more than anything else, that pushes him back to school.”

“He doesn't need an illusion or a false family,” Dean exclaimed, “he has us!”

“You and I know it.” Sam nodded, making Dean feel relieved at the support he was showing him. “But does Harry know?”

Dean couldn't answer the question. 

***

When Dean returned to Harry's room in Bobby's house, decorated during the hunt, it was to see his younger brother wrapped in a burrito of blankets, with a bowl of milk on his lap and busy talking to someone on the computer. 

“…And then, I sent Sam the information Hermione had found, and Sam informed Lenore what they could do to be safe.” Harry was finishing his story. "That was brilliant, Mione, thank you so much."

“ Don't worry, Harry, it's always a pleasure when you're interested. ” The female voice that had terrified Dean on the phone was extremely softer as she addressed his brother. 

A male voice said, clearly excited. “ Vampires?! Merlin, your brothers are completely crazy! Harry, it is genetic ! ”

Harry snorted. “Tell me one time, just one time, when I did something crazy.”

The male voice coughed. “ Your whole life, Harry, is crazy.”

Hermione said, as an Ouch blared from the computer. “ What Ron was trying to say, in his infinity sensibility, it's that you were convinced you were in a coma because you were happy. Clearly, you're not really used to it. ”

“ And you are happy while hunting vampires, demons and monsters. ” Ron said. “ Forgive me if I think you are completely crazy !”

“Okay, first of all,” Harry raised his hand, showing it for the first time since his personal burrito, “I resent that definition. Secondly, thinking you're in a coma to suddenly have two older brothers out of nowhere makes perfect sense. Third point, they weren't vampires, monsters and demons. Just a killer clown and I didn't go on the vampire hunt because Bobby said it might be dangerous. But, I learned to shoot.” Harry nodded. “I shoot pretty well, if you're interested.”

“ And it should convince us that you're not crazy... how? ” Hermione asked. 

“You are narrow-minded.” Harry rolled his eyes, making sure the camera showed it. “But, what I meant is… I don't know, it's cute…”

“No, don't say it's nice to have older brothers, because trust me it's not at all!” Ron exclaimed. “I mean, Bill and Charlie are absolutely amazing, you'll know when you see them. But Percy, Fred and George? They’re a nightmare! You don't want to have your own Percy, Fred and George!”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “I mean, I think Fred and George are pretty brilliant. They just have a little problem trying to cheer people up.”

“ Little problem? ” Ron looked shocked. 

Dean should have interfered, but he really didn't want to disturb his brother in his moment of peace, so he started to retreat. 

But Harry's words later, as he was about to leave, made him stop. 

“No, I think they really care about me." Harry looked surprised and shocked by the thought, but said. “And… I trust them, Ron. I guess you'll understand when you see them, right?”

“ Right, Hogwarts! ” Ron seemed to smile. “ You're coming, right? Do your brothers know how to take you or do we have to think of something? ”

“I'll talk to them about it.” Harry looked shy. “I mean, we have a month to figure out the details, right?”

“Yes, Harry, nobody is rushing you.” Hermione's voice was threatening, as if she were daring Ron to hurry Harry. 

“ For school, of course, no rush. But remember the World Cup, man, it happens only once in a lifetime , and I would hate for you to lose it! ” Ron said enthusiastically, immune to Hermione's tone of voice (or maybe just used to being threatened). 

“Do you think Dean and Sam would enjoy Quidditch?” Harry asked. “It would be nice, wouldn't it, to bring them?”

“ I think you are Harry Potter and you can do anything you want. ” Ron laughed at the thought. “ Hey, can you imagine Malfoy's face when he realizes that your brothers are muggles? ”

Hermione didn't seem to find it funny. “Ron, this is not to be joked about certain things! Harry will already have his problems, without adding Malfoy to the situation!”

“I'll tell you what,” Harry said, “if he makes one racist comment too many, which means, if he makes just one racist comment , I'll shoot him somewhere in the body, and watch him freak out."

“ Fantastic! ” Ron esultò. 

Dean smiled. He liked this Ron more and more. 

“That's not great, Ron, we're not encouraging Harry to shoot someone!” Hermione scolded him. 

“I don't need encouragement.” Harry shook his head. “Just an alibi later.”

Dean smiled even more. 

“ Well. ” Hermione agreed. “ If Malfoy deserves it, please shoot him and rid us all of his presence. ”

“Hermione, this blessing will remain with me until the end of my days.” Harry teased. 

Dean jumped when he heard Bobby yell, alerting everyone that lunch was ready. 

“Oh, guys, I have to go! It's time for lunch!” Harry smiled, trying to free himself from the burrito/blanket and falling out of bed soon after. 

“ And this is the Boy Who Lived, ladies and gentlemen. ” Ron teased. “ Admire him. ”

“ Ron! ” Hermione scolded him, before looking softer and saying. “ Harry, I told you that being in a blanket at this hour would ruin your balance. ”

“No balance ruined!” Harry smiled. “Actually, I hadn't eaten anything up until this point, so it's totally fine.”

Dean felt worried, and he knew from the inhale on the other end of the computer that he wasn't the only one. 

“ You haven't eaten at all ? Harry, you can't skip meals like that, it's dangerous ! ”

“Hermione, I can't hear you very well.” Harry was crumpling a plastic package with one hand. “What… I don't…” Then, he turned off the communication and sighed. 

When he opened the door, he looked at a not very happy Dean. “Were you eavesdropping on my private conversations?”

“Were you having a sleepover in the middle of the morning?” Dean asked back. 

"Yes." Harry nodded, even clicking his tongue. “With the time zones and everything, it was really the only way.”

“And did you put it down to your friend when she worried about your health?” Dean asked, amused and worried at the same time. “Harry, you have to eat.”

"I ate." Harry snorted. 

Dean raised an eyebrow.

“A coffee, or maybe ten, but that's not the point.” Harry stopped him. “I just wanted to talk to Ron soon, and I knew he would be worried about me! I have no way to contact him, magic and technology don't work very well when mixed..."

“I don't judge you, kiddo,” Dean shook his head, “if you want to call your friends, go ahead. Don't ruin your biological clock and your meals to do it, though.”

“ My biological clock ?” Harry taunted Dean. “Now you're worried about my biological clock? I saw you eating a hamburger for breakfast , Dean.”

“I hadn't slept, so it was dinner .” Dean defended himself.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Dean. “Do you want to say more, or do you think that's enough for now, biological clock ?”

“You…” Dean blinked, before shaking his head and pointing up the stairs without saying anything else.

Harry, passing him, snorted. “Just as I imagined.” He murmured.

Dean sighed.

He would have been exactly like a young Sam.

***

“So, boy, it's your birthday soon, right?” Bobby asked, placing the plate in front of Harry, in his place between Dean and Sam.

“Yes, tomorrow, actually.” Harry frowned, as if thinking. “Uh, yeah, just tomorrow.”

Dean froze. How had he forgotten that the next day was Harry's birthday?

He had only one task: to remember the birthdays of the children around him.

Harry included.

He was an idiot.

"Well." Bobby groaned. “I'm sure your English friends will be able to do something for you.”

Harry had a huge smile on his face. “Never underestimate Hermione Granger.” He said, speaking very seriously. “Once, she set fire to a teacher to protect me.”

Dean felt a mix of panic and stress creeping over him.

Not only did he have to make the best birthday day for Harry, but Harry’s best friend, the same one who had threatened Dean and Sam, apparently had no problem setting people on fire to protect Harry.

“Why would she hurt a teacher?” Dean asked, blinking.

“Oh, in the end it wasn't Snape who tried to kill me, but Quirrell. Hermione knocked Quirrell over as she ran to burn Snape, therefore this stopped his spell.” Harry explained calmly, as if murderous professors were a perfectly normal thing .

Were they ? Dean was going crazy. Hogwarts had murderous professors, and Harry was so used to having murderous professors that he didn't care at all?

Damn Sam and his way of approaching the argument, Dean was going to keep Harry away from Hogwarts no matter what.

“Quirrell… he was another professor, right?” Sam inquired, looking rather pale in the face.

“Uh, yeah, he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Harry nodded. “A contradiction, given that he worked for a Dark Lord , but still…”

“And now, where is he?” Dean asked, starting to wonder if he should introduce the wizards to the discovery of guns.

“He died at the end of my first year, two years ago.” Harry replied. “Well, the next professor found himself with no memory after he tried to curse me and Ron. Dumbledore says the position is cursed, and in fact he can't keep a professor for more than a year."

Dean coughed. “Sorry, take away the memory ? Is there a spell to remove the memories ?”

Harry nodded seriously. “I think there's a spell for pretty much everything. Well, except for creating food and water. I'm not sure why, Mione will surely know more. Oh, and not even to bring the dead back to life.”

Dean looked at a slightly sick Sam. Sam nodded back.

With a relieved sigh, Dean calmed down.

At least he knew Sam would support him in keeping Harry at home, away from murderous professors and cursed teachers .

***

Pie? Check.

Festoons? Check.

Balloons? Check.

Gifts? Check.

Food? Check.

People? Check. (Even though it was really just Dean, Sam, Bobby.)

What else did a magical thirteen year old need for a birthday party?

Dean was squinting, before gasping when he felt a hand rest on his shoulder.

"Everything okay?" Sam was looking at him worriedly. “You seem… not quite there.”

"Everything is fine." Dean sighed, before saying. “Do you think something is missing?” He asked, pointing to the table.

Sam frowned, before shaking his head and saying. “It's got everything that counts for a birthday party, Dean. I'm sure Harry will love it."

Dean smiled. “I hope you're right.”

***

Harry had loved the party.

Or rather, Harry had cried, and Dean had been afraid that he had offended him unforgivably, before he admitted that he had never had a birthday party before, and that he absolutely loved the hideous decorations and unbirthday cake that Dean had managed to find at the nearest market.

Then, Dean wanted to shoot Harry’s relatives and make their tracks disappear into thin air.

“It's illegal, Dean.” Harry said, after Dean had murmured his desire towards the unworthy relatives .

“Kidnapping too, yet apparently you were guilty of kidnapping someone.” Dean replied.

"No. My godfather who was wrongfully arrested and illegally escaped from Azkaban kidnapped my best friend. I have never been kidnapped." Harry smiled. “Usually, I willingly follow those who want to kidnap me.”

Dean groaned, while Sam chuckled.

“Shut up, Bitch.” Dean glanced at Sam.

“Shut up, Jerk.” Sam laughed again, winking at Harry.

“Do you want a pillow, Dean?” Harry teased. “You look like you're about to pass out.”

“You… you're a little brat !” Dean exclaimed.

“And apparently you're a jerk, but I don't tell you that all the time.” Harry shrugged, just like the little brat he was. “Okay, when you fall to the floor, you'll realize that you really wish you had a pillow.”

“Shut up, brat.” Dean said with a smile. “And happy birthday.”

“Thanks, jerk.” Harry said calmly.

Chapter Text

“This is your first visit, sweetheart?”

Harry had decided that the doctor before him was a pretty cool one. She wasn’t too impatient, she was kind and polite, and most importantly, she didn’t treat him like he had some rare, highly infectious, contagious disease .

“Yes, actually.” Harry nodded, after glancing at Dean and finding him smiling at the receptionist.

“Ah.” The doctor pursed her lips, shooting Dean an unimpressed look, prompting Harry to say.

“I used to live with my maternal aunt and uncle, it’s a long story.” Harry scratched the back of his head, feigning embarrassment. “Dean only managed just now to get me out of there.”

“Ah, good.” She smiled, suddenly relaxed, before saying, “So, you don’t know what to expect, do you?”

“Not really.” Harry admitted, glancing at the equipment and looking less than pleased about having to try to use it. “It’s not dangerous , is it?”

“Don’t worry, it’s perfectly safe.” The doctor reassured him. “I just need to make sure I have the right prescription for the lenses, otherwise you can’t see properly.”

Harry frowned, wondering if some of his headaches were actually just regular headaches from eye strain.

Even Hermione would rub her eyes sometimes, complaining about the pain.

Harry nodded at the doctor, indicating that he understood and would follow the directions, losing himself in the different names and explanations the woman was giving.

Four days after his birthday, Dean had dragged him downtown, away from Bobby’s comfortable house, to ‘ fix his damned eyes ’ and ‘ fix everything his stupid relatives didn’t fix ’.

Harry was still unsure what Dean meant by that second sentence, and was also quite worried.

But Sam wouldn’t allow anything too illegal (then again, both of his brothers seemed to think that legality was overrated , so Harry wasn’t sure where the line was for the two of them), and Sam had just been amused by Dean’s actions, speaking sarcastically to his older brother.

Harry sighed, just waiting for the moment when they could go home.

The doctor had said it would take about forty-five minutes to finish the exam, and Harry was pretty sure they’d be home right after.

He could handle forty-five minutes.

Only Dean had decided to do it all right then.

“I don’t need clothes, Dean.” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, making it even more unruly. “Bobby’s already gotten me everything I might need.”

“Bobby’s an old man, he doesn’t know what young people like these days.” Dean shook his head. “No, we’ll get you better things here and then go home.”

The clothes had only been their last stop. After the eye exam, Dean had taken him for a full vaccination, and then gone to buy the new finished glasses, similar in design but with rectangular lenses instead of round ones, and then they had gone to buy different accessories, like a watch, and some clothes.

“And a leather jacket is what young people like these days?” Harry frowned. “I can tell I don’t like it. Not at all .”

“Of course you do, you just don’t have much imagination.” Dean reassured him. “See, that’s perfectly normal. But you can get all the clothes you want now.”

Harry glanced at Dean’s shirt. “I don’t wear flannel. It’s just horrible to look at.”

Dean rolled his eyes, shrugging. “I won’t make you wear flannel if you don’t want to, kiddo, but you have to get at least one dress today.”

Harry sighed, letting his eyes fall on a black t-shirt, with a band logo on it.

“ACDC?” Dean was smiling proudly. “Well, we’ll make a true believer out of you.”

“Just so you know, I’ve never listened to one of their songs,” Harry informed him, adding the shirt to the frankly useless amount of shirts Dean had pulled out, knowing his brother wouldn’t put anything down from it.

“It doesn’t matter, your blood knows it’s amazing.” Dean kept his smile on his face, and headed for the store’s checkout. “Goodwill is the perfect place to buy these wonderful treats, don’t let anyone ever say anything against it.”

Harry checked the prices on the way out, and realized he knew where he’d send the Weasleys if they ever needed new clothes.

There were some clothes wizards used that could pass for Muggles, if it weren’t for the bright, strange colors wizards liked to use. But a simple Transfiguration, or maybe a Charm, would still do the trick.

It was something worth mentioning to Ron on their next call.

“Can we go home now ?” Harry asked, sighing wearily.

He hadn't done anything special, but he was still feeling the strain of

all the numerous moves and the way Dean had tracked all his movements.

He was going to turn into a mother chicken, Harry was sure of it.

“Yeah, we’re done, kiddo.” Dean nodded, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Let’s go home.”

***

Harry was returning from Bobby’s kitchen with a bag of crisps, having been sent out to get something to eat by the man himself, when he heard Sam and Dean’s voices in the next room.

“You want to go see Mom?” Dean looked incredulous, and angry. “ Now ? With Harry in the other room?”

“The plan was to have Harry come with us , of course.” Sam said, sounding piqued. “And I don’t see what’s wrong with that, actually. Harry’s not a kid, and he knows Dad was married to Mom.”

“Don’t you see the harm in taking Harry, our brother , to visit the grave of the woman our father was with? Before he had a child with another woman ?”

“It’s not like they were married at the time.” Sam replied. “I mean, can we just accept that Harry is mature enough to realize that doesn’t mean we’re blaming him for whatever our father did before he was even born?”

Dean didn’t answer for a while before he decided. “It doesn’t seem right , that’s all.”

“Well, I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Harry said, walking in and looking at them both. “You obviously love your mother very much. I’ve never had the chance to see my parents’ graves, but I would go if I had the chance.”

Dean and Sam both jumped as they registered Harry’s presence in the room.

“Did you eavesdrop on the conversation?” Dean asked, sighing wearily.

“Consider that a tie for the conversation you eavesdropped on between me, Ron, and Mione.” Harry replied calmly, managing to sound almost cheerful in the process.

“What’s that ?” Sam asked, looking incredibly offended, pointing at something…

Oh, the chips.

“Bobby sent me out to get something to eat.” Harry waved the chips. “I decided these might be good things to eat.”

“They have a lot of preservatives.” Dean frowned. “And they’re not good for you.”

“ Burgers .” Harry said, enunciating the word slowly and clearly. “For breakfast .”

“You eat a burger for breakfast ?” Sam exclaimed, shooting Dean a disappointed look. “And you call that eating healthy ?”

“The kiddo needs strength!” Dean shook his head. “And better nutrition! There’s a lot of preservatives in there! They’ll hurt you!”

“If my life ends up being shortened by chips , I’ll take it as if I’ve far outlived my life expectancy.” Harry muttered slowly.

“Well, that’s enough.” Dean said, looking tired and muttering something about gray hair. “Over there, both. Kiddo, I'll get you something to eat, okay?”

“I already got myself something to eat.” Harry couldn't help but comment, raising his eyebrows as he saw Dean disappear into the kitchen with the chips Harry had found. “And Bobby said I can't continue with my studies until I've eaten something.”

“That's because Bobby is awesome,” Dean said.

Harry glanced at Sam, having no idea how to react and expecting something from the other big brother.

Sam shrugged. “I've learned that it's best to leave him alone. Let Dean do what Dean loves to do.”

Harry shook his head, deciding it was best not to say anything.

***

Mary Winchester's grave was plain, simple, with just an epitaph.

“Devoted wife and loving mother.” Harry read under his breath.

He had left room for Sam to bury something alone, allowing him to say what he wanted to say to his mother in safety.

Harry remembered how he felt when he spoke to the figures of his parents in the Mirror of Erised. He had loved being able to talk to them, even though he knew that their reactions were not the true reactions they might have had, but only what Harry had thought would be appropriate for them to have.

He had read enough about the Mirror of Erised to know that it worked a lot on what the beholder wanted.

“Dad didn’t choose the inscription,” Dean muttered next to him. “Just some stranger who decided to put in stock phrases.”

Harry looked around, seeing a lot of devoted something and loving something.

“I guess no one wanted to write on a grave; this one was a piece of shit ,” Harry said, making Dean laugh in amusement.

“No, suppose not.” Dean shook his head. “Although I’m willing to bet a lot of them actually were.”

Harry wondered what they would write on the graves of his uncles and cousin. Then, in an even more macabre thought, he wondered what would be written on his own grave.

This boy is a criminal or this boy is a hero ?

It probably depended a lot on the general public opinion of him at the time.

Although Harry wished he had written something along the lines of ‘ loving brother’ .

“You really didn’t want to come for me?” Harry asked. “Because I don’t want to be the reason you don’t visit your mother.”

“Do you know how we buried our father?” Dean answered with a question, a question that didn’t really have much to do with what Harry had asked .

“No.” Harry said. “But I imagine his grave is near Bobby’s house, if you live there now.”

“We burned him.” Dean said. “It’s standard procedure for hunters. You burn hunters so they don’t become ghosts or can’t be brought back to life.”

“You can bring people back to life?” Harry asked, blinking.

“Yeah, sort of like a deal with the devil.” Dean shrugged. “But that’s beside the point here.”

“Right.” Harry nodded. “So you don’t believe in Heaven?”

“No.” Dean shook his head. “Hell exists, man. It’s real. But Heaven ? No, that place isn’t real.”

“If Hell exists, how can you believe there isn't Heaven?” Harry asked, incredulous.

“Did you see that?” Dean asked suddenly, instead of answering Harry.

Harry looked in the direction Dean was pointing, half expecting to see nothing but to turn around only to see Dean gone.

Instead, he noticed something strange.

“Unconsecrated ground? In a graveyard ?” Harry asked, walking to the ground and running his hand over it.

His magic reacted to something , something Harry couldn’t place because it felt so new .

“If anything’s strange, it’s probably our camp.” Dean commented, motioning for Sam to join him.

Harry watched the two brothers talking in low voices, Sam nervous and almost sarcastic and Dean annoyed.

As Dean walked away, Sam joined Harry.

“Hey.” Sam smiled, a glint in his eye that was hard to mistake. “Dean decided to do some research on the girl buried here. You and I can go book a motel room.”

Harry nodded. “Okay. So we have a case?”

Sam grimaced. “Look, Dean can be a fanatic when it comes to hunting. I don’t think this is a real hunt.”

“But the land seems cursed ,” Harry said, backpack on, following his brother uncomplainingly.

“Could be a coincidence .” Sam shrugged. “He didn’t want to come here. He never came to see Mum, Dad never took us. It would have taken up time on the hunts, so…”

“So he just ignored the need to take his kids to see their mother’s grave.” Harry muttered under his breath. “I mean, I never visited my parents’ grave either. My uncles never would have taken me, and I was at school.”

Sam didn’t speak, but Harry could sense that he was thinking about it seriously.

“Maybe I could go visit them before I go back to school this year,” Harry said, keeping an eye on Sam’s reaction. “Maybe you and Dean could come with me.”

Sam stood still for a few seconds, before ruffling Harry’s hair and saying, “Sure, Harry. That sounds like a brilliant idea. Come on, it might be hard to convince Dean that the hunt is pointless.”

***

“Angela Mason.” Dean announced, walking into the room they’d booked. “She was at the local college, funeral was three days ago.”

Harry looked up from the laptop Bobby had given him, glancing at Sam and then Dean.

“You don’t want to bother Angela’s father, do you?” he asked, seeing the way Dean stood. “He just lost his daughter!”

“He might have summoned her.” Dean shrugged. “They do that sometimes, you know, summon the dead.”

Harry froze.

Summon the dead .

Magic couldn’t bring the dead back to life, but the supernatural could.

“Well, I guess we can go ask the father about it, then.” Sam stood up. “We can pretend to be friends of Angela’s who want to offer support to the father.”

“You stay here.” Dean motioned to Harry.

“But I want to come!” Harry protested.

“Look, kiddo, I want to take you, I really do, but… I don’t want to drag you into a vengeful spirit if I’m not sure what we’re up against.” Dean sighed. “You promise you’ll stay here?”

“I can see if I can find out anything.” Harry conceded. “It’s not like I have much else to do , anyway.”

“Okay, kiddo.” Dean ruffled his hair. “Let us know what you find.”

***

Harry had no idea what he might find, since they had no idea what they were dealing with, but he knew that ghosts only stuck around if they had a score to settle.

So he was exploring Angela's social media for possible information.

When his brothers returned, Harry greeted them with some information.

"What did her father say?" he began, before shaking his head and saying, "She was running away from her boyfriend when she had the accident, a guy names Matt. Apparently they had a fight at a party. She took refuge at the house of her best friend, Neil.”

Dean frowned. “How do you know?”

“I scouted a teenager’s best friend.” Harry pointed to the computer. “ Facebook .”

“Do you have Facebook?” Sam asked, sounding amused.

“I had no idea what that was before, but still…” Harry shrugged. “Neil is always with Angela. He went to all the parties Angela went to while she was single, and was her shoulder to cry on when Angela was cheated on by the idiots she hung out with.”

“So she had a reason to come back as both an avenging spirit and someone to bring her back to life.” Dean said, looking at Sam with a victorious look.

“Okay, Dean, I’ll say it since you’re dying to hear it.” Sam sighed, turning to look Dean straight in the eye as he spoke, speaking slowly and clearly. “You were right, this is a real case.”

Dean smiled victorious, before rolling up his sleeves and saying, “Okay, let’s get to work, then.”

***

While Sam was busy getting them some food, Harry said, speaking calmly and in what he hoped was an innocent way, “You know, my headmaster always told me there was no way to bring the dead back to life.”

“They’re not really alive , these spirits.” Dean replied absently, as he continued to leaf through a very old-looking journal. “They’re more like parts of the person who’s gone. A lot of the time they’re vengeful parts, since they kill those they have a grudge against.”

“Imagine if Angela had to kill all of her exes.” Harry said tersely, looking at the relationship status on their profile. “There’d be a lot fewer guys around.”

“A solution to pollution, I suppose.” Dean joked, looking up from his journal to smile at Harry. “So, kiddo, why were you and your professor talking about bringing the dead back to life?”

“Oh, he just caught me in front of a Mirror of Erised, you know, a mirror that shows you your heart’s deepest desire , something that would make you truly happy.” Harry said, speaking calmly. “Since it’s driven so many men to madness and death, he wanted to spare me the same fate, I suppose. I don’t regret finding it, though. It was the first time I’d ever seen my parents.”

Dean froze.

Then, slowly, he said. “Was there a mirror at your school that drove students to madness and death ?”

“Only I found it, don’t worry.” Harry reassured Dean, wondering vaguely why he was growing even paler . “And that was a good thing, because then I knew how to turn it to my advantage against Voldemort at the end of the year.”

“ Voldemort ? The Dark wizard who terrorized England until he failed to take you out?” Dean asked, as if Voldemort were a common name .

“The one and only.” Harry shrugged. “Although I don’t think there are many people who can anagram their name into something pretentious like I am Lord Voldemort . I mean, can you imagine how long it took Riddle to make that anagram make any sense ? A real sense, I mean, and not something offensive.”

“That’s beside the point, dude.” Dean sighed. “ Why did your headmaster want to tell you that magic doesn’t bring the dead back?”

“I guess to dissuade me from looking for the mirror to see my parents.” Harry shrugged. “It worked, I think.”

“And now you want to know about bringing the dead back to life,” Dean said. “Kiddo, Harry, there’s no point in fooling yourself into thinking your loved ones would return. They’d just be vengeful spirits.”

“I guess they’d go kill all of Voldemort’s minions and Voldemort himself, right?” Harry muttered, looking down at his knees.

“That’s probably what they’d do, but they wouldn’t be your parents .” Dean crouched down in front of Harry. “Kiddo, it’s no use.”

“I know, okay ?” Harry said, snapping at Dean. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but can I just imagine what it would be like to have my parents back?”

“Sure.” Dean nodded. “You can. Just remember that they’re dead . Let the dead go, Harry.”

“Sure.” Harry smiled weakly. “ Hard to forget that my parents are, in fact, dead.”

Dean patted him on the shoulder, before smiling at the sound of the lock clicking.

“Finally! What did you do, cook it?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Next time, you can get up and go get everyone some food. You're not doing much research, anyway."

"Are you kidding?" Dean pointed to the journal. "Do you know how much I read?"

"Did you find anything?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

" Did you find anything? " Dean repeated. "Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam replied without missing a beat.

Harry smiled slightly.

A part of him wondered if the image in the Mirror of Erised would have changed. Would he have seen Sam and Dean, too, if he had looked inside it now?

Chapter Text

Sam knew Dean was worried about Harry and the hunt they were on, but the way Dean was keeping tabs on him was becoming increasingly alarming .

“Dean?” Sam called out to his brother, as Harry had retreated to the bathroom for a moment.

“Yeah?” Dean called out, raising an eyebrow at him, looking away from his computer screen for a moment.

The research they were doing was important in order to not be killed or maimed.

“Remember when we were discussing the best way to talk to Harry about going back to school and I told you that, based on his backstory, which we don’t have all the information on yet, and explained that dictating his actions would only push him away?”

Dean shook his head. “That’s not what’s happening here right now, Sam.”

“No?” Sam asked rhetorically, gesturing to Harry’s laptop, after Dean had stopped him from doing research on calling ghosts back to life. “Then how do you explain that? Harry's even better at research than I am , Dean. And until he looks older, we can't take him with us on investigations unless we pass him off as one of our sons."

"I know." Dean rubbed his eyes. "Look, you remember the story about the boy, right? He lost his parents when he was a year old , Sammy. He just wants his parents and he might be desperate enough to use that to call them."

"Harry knows it wouldn't really be them, just the last thing left of them." Sam said. "They were killed in their home. Their mother died in Harry's room. They'd be vengeful, to say the least."

"I mentioned it, all of the above." Dean ran a hand through his hair. "And he said they might be targeting Voldymorts' followers."

" Voldemort ." Sam corrected him, rolling his eyes. "It's French, for Escape from Death."

“Harry was right, Voldy is a pretentious prick .” Dean muttered, perhaps to himself. Then he turned to Sam. “I know Harry will make the right choice, especially when he realizes what spirits called back from the dead actually do, okay? I just don’t want to push too many temptations in his direction before he realizes that. I don’t want to control him, just protect him.”

Sam smiled. “Good. If you’ve talked about this before, he’s probably figured out what you’re doing now.”

“At least I won’t ruin everything for this?” Dean asked wryly.

Sam nodded seriously, though. “Although you still have to figure out how to tell Harry that his return to Hogwarts might not be as planned as he expected.”

Dean nodded, waving his hand. “I’ll figure out how to broach the subject.”

Sam sighed, not having much faith in that sentence or the way Dean had phrased it. As he was about to take matters into his own hands, demanding that Dean immediately think of the best way to test the waters and introduce the subject to Harry, the boy came running back into the room.

“Remember the asshole boyfriend?” Harry asked rhetorically. “I just intercepted a police call. He’s dead.”

Sam and Dean exchanged a look.

Vengeful spirits.

***

By mutual agreement, Dean would pose as a federal agent, going to take custody of the victim’s belongings, hoping to find an excuse that would allow him to scream in the belongings of victim number one, now working as a part-time ghost, while Sam and Harry would head to the two victims’ friends, ending up meeting Angela from his previous school.

Harry had found all the backup information, to confirm their alibi.

As they walked to the memorial site for the deceased, Sam turned to Harry.

“So, what do you think so far?”

“Angela’s spirit is coming back from the dead to take revenge on whoever hurt her.” Harry offered. “So, in addition to her boyfriend, she’ll also hurt whoever was involved. We need to find out why they broke up. Otherwise, we won’t have enough information to stop Angela.”

Sam smiled slightly, wondering if Harry was like that because he was a Winchester or because, like him and Dean, he had been trained to follow orders and take care of others, knowing that those responsible would not do anything, either out of lack of skill or lack of desire.

“Dean pointed it out to me…” Sam paused, trying to think of the best way to say what he wanted to say without hurting his brother.

“That this case would make me want to try to bring my parents back to life, regardless of the risks to the people involved?” Harry finished for Sam, who was grateful and relieved when he saw no sign of tears in his brother’s eyes. “Look, I won’t deny or say that the thought of bringing my parents back to life hasn’t crossed my mind. But Dean clearly underestimates my world if he thinks this is the first method I've found.”

“Have you found other methods ?” Sam asked, both curious and scared.

“Do you know what necromancy is?” Harry asked.

“Well, the science of calling the dead?” Sam offered, thinking that there were no necromancers among those they hunted.

“Essentially.” Harry agreed. “There is the possibility of creating an inferius. Honestly, I don't see much difference between it and a ghost, since ghosts can touch you. The Inferius is strictly bound to the will of the person who brings it back to life, it is not actually the person who died. Just an empty body that you use for your own purposes. And since they are used for no other purpose than to fight and kill, they are often the weapons of Dark Wizards. Voldemort killed enough of them to create an army of them.”

Sam was silent for a moment, thinking about what Harry had said. “It's just horrible.”

“I know.” Harry nodded. “I was eleven when I read about it and it seemed like the sickest thing anyone could do.”

Sam nodded in agreement, before realizing what Harry had said.

“ Eleven ?” Sam blinked. “How come you were eleven years old and reading about this?”

“Do you remember me talking about the cloak of my father, James Potter,” Harry blushed slightly, as if Sam was going to scold him for calling the man who had died for him his father, “and the research we were doing on Nicolas Flamel? Well, while I was in the Restricted Section and I was researching Flamel, I came across this fascinating subject . I haven’t read much about it, but I’ve read enough to know that I could never do something like that. Not even to have the chance to see my parents.”

Sam nodded, still slightly shocked at how easily Harry had been able to find such horrendous information.

In a school library.

He wouldn't have been surprised if Dean had just burned the school to the ground, instead of trying to convince Harry not to go.

That would have been much more effective.

"Have you read anything else like this?" Sam asked, afraid of the possible answer.

"I've read a lot, and I have to say I'm terrified to ever set foot in that part of the school again." Harry admitted. "Come on, his friends are all there."

Sam nodded, dutifully following Harry.

"That's his best friend Neil." Harry pointed to the boy in question. "He doesn't look terribly in pain, does he?"

Sam followed the direction of Harry's gaze, immediately finding the person he was pointing to.

"No, not at all." Sam confirmed. "Come on, let's see if we can find anything."

***

The entire conversation with Angela's friends had been a waste of time.

Angela was everyone's best friend, she could never have enemies, and most of all, she must be devastated at the thought of being separated from her boyfriend.

A love like theirs could only continue after death.

"Why are they never honest?" Sam complained, as he and Harry walked back to the motel. "It would make the job a lot easier."

"Well, they're dead." Harry pointed out. "No one speaks ill of the dead. Or the rich." The boy shook his head. "The Malfoys are really proving that corruption can lead anywhere."

"Who are the Malfoys?" Sam asked, frowning.

"Demons that can't be exorcised." Harry answered quickly. "Do you think Neil knows who the other girl was? The one Matt was with?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know, but we need to find out fast, before they kill other people."

Harry nodded. "Just wondering... what she'd do after she killed them both?"

Sam remained silent, Dean’s doubt about the need for Harry to learn the trade even for the power to bring the dead back to life came back strongly to mind. But then again, Sam had been months old when his mother died and he had always known that the demon had been in his room. As had happened with Harry and his parents. And Sam had never had the chance to know his mother and had always been sure that, if she had been alive, his father would never have allowed any of them to run any risk.

But Sam would never bring his mother back to life, even though he had all the knowledge to do it the right way.

Sam couldn’t scold Dean for trying to control his brother and then making the same mistake.

“These spirits are driven by the desire for revenge.” Sam began to explain. “Or at least from an unresolved issue that doesn’t allow them to move on. After they resolve the unresolved issue, they could simply vanish and return to whatever the afterlife is. Or, they can expand their unfinished business. They can take it out on whoever called them, for revenge or to be free completely. They can try to kill the friends who were even slightly involved with the unresolved matter, or who decided to try to solve the crimes related to his actions or stop the spirit itself.”

“So either they die completely or they continue to kill.” Harry muttered, looking away. “Do you think…”

Sam looked at Harry expectantly, knowing and expecting the question that was about to be asked.

“Do you think my parents have unresolved matters?” Harry asked, looking back into Sam’s eyes. “I’m not thinking of calling them back, don’t worry. I just… I just want to think that they’re safe. That they’re resting , wherever they are now.”

“I think their unresolved matter is more about you than about their deaths.” Sam said. “Our mother was left as a spirit in our house, you know?” Sam said then, trying to console Harry. “And her action in this world as a spirit was to save my life and Dean’s.”

“And then she found peace.” Harry whispered.

Sam was silent for a moment, before muttering. “You said you never visited your parents.”

“I didn’t even know how they died until three years ago.” Harry said. “And I don’t even know where we lived. Where they were buried. I… I literally don’t know anything.”

Sam sighed. “We could actually go visit them. There should be someone who knows where they’re buried, right?”

“Professor Lupin, probably.” Harry muttered. “And Sirius, of course, but he’s a fugitive and I don’t really know where I could find him.”

Sam shook his head. He wished Dean were there, just to see him freak out over that.

“Good.” Sam decided to ignore Sirius and the reasoning behind Harry using him as a source despite being a fugitive. He’d read about the previous year, of course, but nothing suggested Harry and Sirius Black were involved. Perhaps it could be one of the professors who had been hired at Hogwarts, since the previous ones were a follower of Voldemort, a con man who erased the memories of those who had accomplished real deeds and took credit for them, a child-hater who couldn't even do his job, and a ghost.

A fugitive didn't seem like someone who would have been a bad fit among that teaching staff.

"Come on, let's see if Dean's found out anything useful." Sam said then, hoping to distract Harry long enough so that he wouldn't be bothered by his doubts about his parents.

Although Sam could be sure when he said that those doubts never went away.

Chapter Text

The girl's grave was empty.

Dean sometimes hated being right.

"Her father was an ancient Greek professor ," Dean said, speaking slowly. "And there were Greek symbols right there in her grave."

Sam shook his head. "You saw his house. The plants were all alive and well, that can't be a place where a spirit lives. And if the grave was empty, it wasn't really a spirit, more of a zombie. There had to be some signs of its presence."

Dean snorted. "Well, she didn't eat her boyfriend's brain or her best friend's, so..."

Sam sighed, picking up his laptop to do some research. "I don't know, Dean, I'm just saying the father isn't the right person to be the one who called the spirit. He seems to be deeply distraught over his daughter's death, and he certainly wouldn't be so calm if he suspected his daughter was involved in two murders."

"What if it's not the father?" Harry spoke, drawing both brothers' attention to him.

Since he hadn’t spoken since they left the cemetery, Dean had assumed he’d fallen asleep on the trip back.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, leaning over to look at Harry.

Harry adjusted his new glasses, before flipping through the book he was reading. “I’m just saying that in Greek culture, spirits were consulted because they were believed to bring wisdom. Kind of like how it’s shown in the Odyssey, when Odysseus goes to seek the help of Tiresias. They’re dead, and they’re said to be not as blind as the living, so they have more knowledge.” Harry said. “It was called the katabasis. There were cases where the spirit would return as a solid body to visit the living of their own free will. They were divided into the biaiothanatoi, those who died violently, and the ataphoi, those who weren’t buried. They’re considered very dangerous and violent, and they're vengeful spirits. They started the whole story of spirits in other religions, actually.” Harry licked his lower lip before speaking. “The way I see it, Angela’s best friend Neil, the one who is not affected at all by his best friend’s death , had access to the same information as Angela’s father. He could have called the soul back into the body with that ritual, but since Angela falls back into the biaiothanatoi, her body was resurrected with malicious intent and decided to make amends herself.”

Sam began searching on his computer before whistling briefly. “You’re right, there is a reference to a Spartan Pausanias here. He decided he wanted Cleonice as a lover, and her parents married her off to him without a problem. Only then he mistook her for a murderer and killed her that night. She came back to haunt him.”

“Who the hell mistakes a wife for a murderer?” Dean asked, shaking his head. “He even asked for her to be handed over to him.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time a delivered woman decided to kill the man who asked for her.” Harry spoke up, taking a sip of what looked suspiciously like coffee. Dean groaned at the thought of the boy not sleeping because of the caffeine in his system. “And rightly so. Mione would burn alive anyone who asked for her hand in marriage. She once set a teacher on fire, and she was eleven.”

Dean frowned, feeling scared of the possible answer. “I also want to know why your friend thought it was a good idea to set a teacher on fire?”

“She set Snape on fire, so it’s already different. And, you know, I was about to fall off my broomstick, and she thought it was Snape casting the curse on my Nimbus. She got it wrong, but luckily she bumped into Quirrell on her way up, so I still managed to get back on the broomstick.” Harry smiled, as if he hadn’t just described an attempted murder in a fucking children’s school. “We won the game. I caught the Snitch in my mouth.”

Sam frowned. “You were playing Quidditch, right? The game with balls in the air?”

Harry nodded. “Yes. Wood trained me to resist fouls from other players. Knocking down the seeker is in the rules and is very common, especially at school.”

“How high do you usually fly?” Dean asked, feeling a tic begin to develop around his left eye.

Harry, the little brat, shrugged. “I don’t know, hundreds of feet. I’ve never measured it, you know.”

“ I’ve never measured it .” Dean repeated, his tone disgusted. “Brat.”

“Jerk.” Harry replied happily, before continuing to leaf through the book. “It goes on to describe different spirits. Apparently the Romans gave them lots of different nicknames.”

“ Lucky them .” Dean snorted. “Well, if it’s not a spirit, then how do we burn it? Do we lure it into the graveyard?”

“Burn down Neil’s house where Angela is most likely staying is out of the question, right?” Harry muttered as he picked up his phone and frowned at a text he received.

The boy looked up to find two identically neutral expressions from the older brothers.

“I was just asking !” Harry held up his hands in surrender. “If you have any better ideas, though, please let me know.”

Sam muttered, smiling slightly. “Well, I think we can probably think about the symbol that was used in this ritual.”

Dean rolled his eyes, feeling a smile creep across his face as well.

Nerd and brat. Harry really had everything .

Harry muttered. “I don’t know Greek, we mostly use Latin at Hogwarts. But I’ve seen this symbol before.”

Dean watched him open his bag, and stick most of his arm in, all the while muttering to himself. Then, an excited, victorious exclamation. “Here it is!”

Harry pulled an old-looking book out of his bag, allowing Dean to see the title.

The Book of Lost Souls.

It wasn’t very reassuring.

“Where did you get this from?” Sam asked, leaning across the table with curiosity and interest. “From Bobby?”

That was one thing Dean’s nerdy brothers had in common: they were nerds. Research fanatics.

Sure, their research had kept Dean alive, so the hunter wasn’t really complaining, but still…

“No, I borrowed it from my school,” Harry said. “They won’t even notice, it was… hidden very well, let’s say.” The boy frowned, muttering something under his breath, before saying, “Oh, there it is.”

Dean and Sam leaned over to see the page Harry was pointing to.

When the hunter took note of all the Greek written on the side, he raised an eyebrow at Harry, saying, “I thought you said you didn’t know Greek.”

“And I don’t.” Harry confirmed. “Although we use magic in Latin, magical tradition sees Hecate as the goddess to refer to, the goddess who gave us magic. Others trace it back to Merlin. Although that’s impossible, seeing as he was in Slytherin along with the founder himself. He can’t be the creator of our people, that’s all.” Harry snorted. “A lot of the spells and rituals we’re using come from Greek folklore. Although you can’t really call it folklore if it’s true, right? It’s not a myth if it’s actually doable ? A lot more comes from Norse mythology, seeing Loki and his mother Frigga as the two gods who created magic on Midgar.”

“Midgar?” Dean parroted, feeling rather ignorant.

“That’s what they call the realm that corresponds to Earth on Asgard, the homeland of Loki and Frigga.” Sam explained. Then, he looked at the picture Harry had pointed to. “That’s the drawing of the ritual. What does that mean?”

“It’s a human with an aura or halo above its head, probably a reference to the soul.” Harry explained. “Which makes sense, since it’s used to call upon a dead person for advice. It’s above their head specifically because they want access to the dead person’s knowledge .”

“And that’s why Neil wasn’t scared.” Dean realized. “Angela’s acting like herself because she has her mind with her. Maybe she’s also reciprocating Neil’s interest so she doesn’t get sent back to the dead.”

“Okay, that’s all very nice, but it doesn’t help us get her back to the grave.” Sam shook his head. “They say silver helps, or you have to burn her, or you have to nail her into her coffin.”

“I see a lot of fires in your work.” Harry said. “I don’t think it’s good ecologically.”

“Better than leaving the dead to kill.” Dean said.

“I don’t know.” Harry said, shrugging. “If you think about it, fewer people alive means less pollution . Ecologically, it’s better to just let the spirits do their job.”

“Okay, no more coffee for you.” Dean decided, picking up the cup and walking over to the sink, pouring it down the drain.

“I was drinking it.” Harry groaned, no doubt turning to Sam for support.

“Let’s focus on killing Angela.” Sam offered then.

“We have to take her to the graveyard for sure.” Dean said. “How do we convince Romeo that his Juliet wants to kill everyone?”

Harry cocked his head. “Maybe convincing Romeo that Juliet isn’t herself will be the easiest thing I’ve done this year.”

Dean wasn’t reassured at all.

***

“I don’t like any of this.”

“You’ve said that before , and we decided, after much discussion, that this was the least safe place for Harry to be.” Sam sighed, placing candles haphazardly on the ground.

Harry had given them a fake ritual, saying that absolutely nothing would happen, but that it would almost certainly lure Angela to the graveyard.

Neil would either make Angela suspicious, or convince her that Sam and Dean were willing to do anything to stop her.

Angela would go and stop the ritual, and then Dean and Sam could put her back in her grave.

With that, Harry went to Neil to tell him what to do. The chances of Harry getting hurt were extremely high .

The chances of Harry being killed by an Angela smart enough to see through the ruse were even more .

“Come on, I think I heard something.” Sam said, nudging Dean and pushing him, getting ready to act as bait after Dean added his side of Harry’s plan.

Dean had noticed Harry’s lingering look after Dean suggested Sam act as bait, but since the kiddo hadn’t said anything, Dean hadn’t said anything.

The fight against Angela hadn’t been long at all. It was clear that the spirit/zombie still had Angela’s strength, maybe a little more enhanced.

The spirit was enough to freeze those who knew her and felt guilty for her death, but not enough to resist those who were trained.

Her greatest strength was that no one knew how to kill her for good.

Of course, not everyone had the support of the two biggest nerds in history.

“What’s dead should stay dead.” Dean said, after impaling the zombie in his coffin.

Then, he turned when he saw Sam coming, holding his wrist.

“She beat you to it, huh?” Dean said, smiling in amusement, more relieved now that Sam was okay.

“Ha ha.” Sam pretended to laugh, shaking his head. “He broke my wrist, I think. Harry called me, though. He and Neil were taken to the hospital.”

Dean felt a sudden heaviness in his chest.

“Is he okay?” Dean asked. “Is Harry okay?”

Sam sighed. “Let’s go check it out, okay? Harry sent me the address.”

Dean forced himself to nod, trying to be optimistic.

Harry would be fine .

Chapter Text

Harry was punishing himself.

He knew for himself that it wasn’t the best thing to do, but he couldn’t help blaming himself for his injury.

Sam and Dean had both warned him about how cruel and vengeful spirits could be, and yet he had let Angela hurt him and slowed his brothers down on their way home.

If Harry had been quicker, and less distracted, Angela might not have hurt him and, more importantly, he wouldn’t have had to make Sam and Dean wait until the easiest time to convince the hospital to release him.

Fortunately, it had been a light fall, as the doctor had said after examining him. And Harry had been surprisingly resilient .

Harry had a suspicion that his resistance was largely due to the phoenix tears still in his system, but he hadn’t shared that suspicion with the doctor, in order to avoid being locked in some hospital.

He snorted, wiping the sweat from his brow after his training session.

Angela had easily, too easily, thrown him away, as if Harry weighed nothing .

Working out his muscles and stamina couldn’t really hurt anyone.

The computer began to ding, a call from Ron coming in that made him smile.

Not bothering to put a shirt back on, since it was just Ron and Hermione must have gone home to her parents.

“ Harrykins… ”

“ …aren’t you a feast for the eyes? ”

Harry felt himself blush as he saw Fred and George in front of Ron’s computer webcam.

“I thought it was Ron,” Harry stammered, moving across the room to grab a shirt, pulling it on quickly, “I wasn’t expecting anyone else.”

“ Don’t cover up for us! ” Fred protested, as George shook his head and said, “ Well, I liked what I saw. ”

Harry coughed, looking up from his computer and fidgeting with the hem of his T-shirt (which he noticed was one of the new ones Dean had insisted on buying).

“ Well, you’ve cleaned up, Harry. ” George smiled, wiggling his eyebrows. “ You must be a magician, because whenever I look at you, everyone else disappears. ”

Harry sighed, running a hand over the back of his neck.

He felt extremely lucky that Dean wasn’t eavesdropping behind the door this time, only because it would be awful to explain to his older brother about Fred and George .

Dean might think they were flirting , and Harry knew that was only because Dean didn’t know Fred and George.

Fred, however, leaned over to get a good look at Harry. “ You don’t wear glasses. Why don’t you wear glasses? ”

“I have contact lenses.” Harry explained, pointing to the case. “Even though Ron told me wizards could correct their eyesight with magic? Well, never mind, I just noticed that it’s not very comfortable to follow my brothers on their hunts with such a handicap.”

“ Do you have a map? ” Fred asked.

Harry frowned. “About what…?”

“ Because I just got lost in your eyes .” The twin concluded.

Harry shook his head, feeling the blush run all the way up his neck. He began to nibble the inside of his cheek, before deciding to ignore their behavior and say. “Is Ron there?”

“ Did you hear that, Forge? ” George began, turning to Fred. “ Harrykins prefers little Ronnie’s company to ours ! ”

“ Oh, Harry, what can we do to become worthy of spending time with you, we humble servants? ” Fred pretended to bow to the screen.

Harry laughed, forgetting his previous discomfort. “Stop that right now.” He ordered, shaking his head at their nonsense. “Anyway, Ron told me he’d call me, so I’m waiting for him.” Then, frowning, he asked. “You haven’t hidden your brother, have you?”

“ No, don’t worry, oh kind sir. ” George replied, smiling mischievously. “ Ronnie’s perfectly fine! But he’s talking to Mum about something at the moment, I haven’t really been paying attention… ”

“ …But we’ve decided to inform you that you’re needed here on August 23rd. ” Fred smiled, nodding seriously.

“What’s happening on August 23rd?” Harry asked, frowning.

“ What’s happening, he’s asking. ” George shook his head, feigning pain in his chest. “ Just the Quidditch World Cup .”

“ Wood’s turning in his grave, ” Fred sighed, looking off into the distance, “ his Seeker forgetting about Quidditch . ”

“Stop it.” Harry blushed. “And Oli’s still very much alive , Fred.” Then, the boy tilted his head. “Ron didn’t tell me anything. Can I bring Sam and Dean? They’d love Quidditch!”

Fred and George smiled. “ Sure! Ronnie told Dad you’d like to have your brothers. Take that as a bonus from the Ministry sycophants. ”

Harry frowned. “Wait, isn’t it known I’m with my brothers? No one knows?”

“ No, Harry. ” George sighed. “ You just disappeared. Dumbledore might know something, but he’s Dumbledore .”

“Right.” Harry’s voice was curt. “I didn’t even know they were watching me.”

Sirius . Harry had to find a way to warn Sirius before his godfather did something stupid .

“ So, other than taking off your glasses and putting on those muscles, what have you been up to? ” Fred asked, his eyebrows moving ominously.

“A lot of experiences to add to my nightmares.” Harry rolled his eyes. “I can tell you all about it next time I see you.”

Harry turned as the door opened.

Dean frowned. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Yeah, Dean.” Harry nodded seriously. “And I also make different voices to give myself the illusion of having someone intelligent to talk to.”

“ Hey .” Dean protested. “You’re not the only intelligent one in the family, brat!”