Fandoms: Harry Potter, Supernatural
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Warnings: Spoilers for all Harry Potter books, spoilers for Supernatural until 5x10.
Disclaimer: This is a transformative work of fiction for entertainment purposes only.
AN: Sequel to Damned Demented Demons and Bobby and Hermione - An Epistolary Fic . Updates every Wednesday (PST).
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |
| 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20
| 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20
Summary: In which the Winchesters meet a certain poltergeist and Dean does not like Quidditch.
The afternoon session went just as smoothly as the morning one. Only, the older students groaned deeper when they were told to put their wands away. They also were a little better at hiding the fact that they spent a lot of the time sneaking looks over to where Harry sat at the side of the classroom. Actually, the Winchesters reminded Harry a little of being taught by Mad-Eye, or, well, Barty Couch Jr. pretending to be Mad-Eye. The way they were able to keep the class in line with a mixture of actual respect for the students and pure intimidation.
They covered demons with a little more depth, providing copies of the standard exorcism and devil’s traps. This meant that there wasn’t really time at the end of the session to get into self-defence, so Sam decided that they should take questions instead. Sam seemed a lot more comfortable with the older students than he had with the younger ones, so he did most of the talking while Dean sat back and watched.
During lunch, Harry had brought Neville and Ernie both up to date on the current investigation. Not so much the details, but the fact that they had put together that whatever was going on – it was targeting blood-traitors and enemies of Voldemort. Ernie and Neville fell into both categories because of their involvement in the war and their personal lives. Ernie’s house had obviously already been hit, but so far Neville had been left untouched. Harry had to wonder if it was because Neville lived at the school while he taught, and at Hannah’s when he wasn’t teaching. Still, there was Neville’s Gran to consider. She was getting on in years, but still lived in her own house – if someone did want to target the Longbottoms, they could always go after her.
Harry had also had a brief chance to chat with Ron. They had decided the night before that Ron would start the investigation by questioning all former Death Eaters that were not currently in Azkaban. So far, all Ron had found was that three of them – like Malfoy – were victims of attacks themselves and had not reported it. Well, two hadn’t reported it. The third, sadly, had been a bit of a loner, and none of his neighbours had noticed the smell.
It also meant that starting the next morning, he and Ron were going to have to take a team to Azkaban to question the prisoners – just in case one of them had a man on the outside doing their dirty work for them, and they felt like admitting it.
Harry was startled out of his thoughts as Ernie called an end to class, handing out assignments for the next week. Sam and Dean packed up the few props they had used, and smiled at those students who thanked them as they left the room.
“Well, that went well,” Harry said.
“Yeah, man, the kids weren’t half bad,” Dean said. “I thought for sure we’d get substitute teacher treatment.”
“Not with Harry in the room,” Ernie laughed. “The younger ones are too busy picking their jaws off the floor, and half, if not all, the older students want to work with him some day. It’d hardly do them any favours to make a bad impression.”
“You think any of them caught on that we aren’t wizards?” Sam asked. “I mean, there were a couple of specific questions that I had to sort of...um...talk my way around.”
“You did great,” Ernie said. “It’s actually rather disturbing how much you sounded like a real Auror when you talked about how further investigation was needed into the effects of muggle weapons on a Gytrash, but that the fundamentals of salt, silver, and iron should always be kept on hand.”
“I couldn’t remember what it was,” Sam admitted sheepishly. “I know it was in that book Harry gave us...but, yeah...”
“Well, you covered splendidly. Thanks for coming in,” Ernie said. “I’m going to send a copy of this handout home to Justin, so that he can lay salt on my thresholds the next time he’s over at the house. I still think Harry’s mad for bringing you here, but I’m certainly starting to see the use.”
“Thanks Ernie,” Harry rolled his eyes, “you let me know when you decide that I’ve finally gone mad with power, ok?”
“Will do,” Ernie said with a smile.
They said their goodbyes to Ernie, and then made their way down to the Hufflepuff common room. Dean really didn’t like the paintings – the way they moved, and stared at him and Sam as they walked down the hall. It was unnerving, and Dean was itching to torch them all. Maybe they knew.
They went down staircases and through doorways that Dean didn’t even really see until they were right beside them. Dean had to wonder how on earth any of the students found their way around. Not to mention there was this giant pendulum that could take a person out if they weren’t paying attention.
They had just entered an empty corridor, when Sam tensed and stopped walking, and Dean tensed because Sam had tensed and that was reason enough for him. Harry continued walking for a few steps and then seemed to realize that something was up. He turned to them in confusion.
“There’s something in here with us,” Sam said. Dean reached his hand into his pocket, grasping the handle of his gun, while Sam’s stance shifted. He had packed silver, and Sam had packed iron – they had left the shot-guns at Harry’s – but Dean had bottle of salt in one of his pockets.
“It might just be one of the school ghosts,” Harry said calmly, “please don’t...worry. Hogwarts is safe, there’s nothing-“
“You don’t know that,” Dean said. Sam was looking up and to the left, where a column met the ceiling. He wanted to ask Sam what the hell he thought it was. If they’d been found by Heaven or Hell, they had to get the hell out of dodge before they put any of the students at risk.
“The Great Harry Potter couldn’t be odder, something’s gone wrong with his head. Hunter friends will turn some heads, then soon we’ll all be dead,” a voice sing-songed through the corridor.
“What the hell is that?” Sam asked, as he drew his gun, pointing it where he had been looking.
“Peeves,” Harry said calmly, “it’s just Peeves. Don’t...well....”
“The poltergeist?” Dean said.
“Peeves!” Harry called, “why aren’t you hiding with the others?”
A small man peeked around the edge of the column up near the ceiling. Dean looked at him in fascination – he appeared to be floating, like a ghost might, but he seemed solid. He looked somewhat like a court jester in colourful clothes. But there was something off about him, either the skin tone, or the facial structure, or both. He was also carrying water balloons.
“Peeves,” Harry said. “I think you should go.”
“Just wanted to have a look,” Peeves said, eyeing Sam, who still had his gun drawn, though it was pointing at the floor.
“Well, you’ve had your look,” Harry said, “Now I suggest you go. And don’t sing songs about Hunters, people aren’t to know!”
“Potter’s a poet,” Peeves laughed. “What’s the next verse?”
“Peeves...” Harry said. “Do you honestly think anything good can come of this?”
“Oh, you’re no fun,” Peeves said, and he hurled a water balloon at Harry, who diverted it with a wave us his wand.
“It’s just water, Sam,” Harry said. “He won’t hurt you.”
Dean turned to find that Sam had now trained the gun on the poltergeist.
“Sam doesn’t like poltergeists,” Dean said.
“Racist,” Peeves said.
“Would it be so bad if we tried to kill him?” Dean asked. “We’ve never seen a corporeal one before – we could at least try out the iron and the silver – see if one hurts more than the other.”
Sam cocked the gun, and Dean watched with a smirk as Peeves eyes widened, and he turned and disappeared through a wall. The solid water balloons breaking against the stone and dripping down over some very annoyed paintings.
“Damn it,” Sam said. “I should’ve-“
“He may be annoying,” Harry sighed, “but he fought on our side during the war. He doesn’t deserve to get shot.”
A group of students poured into the far end of the corridor, joking around and laughing. Sam put the gun away so fast, that Dean was afraid Sam was going to shoot himself in the ass. But when the students caught sight of them a half second later, Dean was thankful that Sam had been quick. Some of the students Dean recognized as having just been in the afternoon class.
“Hey guys,” Harry said. “Did you happen to see Teddy in the common room?”
“Yes, sir,” one of the older boys answered. “He’s waiting with Andrew, Iggy and Nate.”
“Could I get the password off you?” Harry asked.
“Um, we aren’t supposed to-“ the boy said fidgeting.
“Mate, it’s Harry bloody Potter,” another boy interurpted, “I think we can trust he’s not going to murder Lupin.”
“No, you’re right,” Harry said. “I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll just ask one of the paintings to go in and tell him I’m waiting outside.”
“Whackspurt,” the second boy said, then shrugged at Harry’s look. “Our head of house is on a Quibbler kick.”
“Thanks,” Harry said.
“Just don’t murder Lupin and make me regret it,” the boy laughed, reaching an arm around his friend who had refused to give the password and hitting him in the arm affectionately. The boys passed them and disappeared laughing around the corner.
“Come on then,” Harry said, and they rounded the corner to find a large painting of some people gathered around a large dinner table, laughing at each other’s jokes.
“Hello,” one of the men said, “here to see Teddy are you? Did he give you the password or shall I go in and fetch him for you?”
“Whackspurt” Harry said, “but thank you for the offer.”
“Oh, it wouldn’t have been any trouble,” the man said, “have a nice day!” His dinner guests all echoed the well wishes as the painting slid to the side to reveal a round hallway.
Dean followed closely behind Harry, until the hallway opened up into a cozy room. Potted plants hung from the ceiling, and vines crept up the walls. Round tunnels led off to either side, with vines partially covering them like beaded curtains. The windows in the room were high and close to the ceiling, causing the sunlight to come in on angles that turned some of the leaves on the walls more golden than green.
There was a grand fireplace directly in front of them with a roaring fire in it, and yellow plush couches and chairs were laid out around it. Teddy and his friends sat on one of the couches, sprawled nearly on top of each other, and passing back and forth trading cards of some sort.
“Wotcher!” Teddy said, tumbling onto the ground and then standing to face them. His hair was still turquoise and black, like it had been at the end of lunch. Dean took that to be good sign – that Teddy hadn’t gone back to worrying.
“Hey man,” Dean greeted. “You all set to show us around?”
“Yes,” Teddy replied with a smile, “Nate’s going to come with us too. He likes watching the Quidditch practice – he wants to try out for seeker next year.” He motioned to the other boy who was with Iggy and Andy on the couch. He was a slight boy with black hair and a shy smile. Dean recognized him from the morning session, where he had been sitting with the group of girls a row in front of Teddy.
“Hey Nate, nice to meet you,” Dean said. “How come you didn’t sit with us at lunch.”
“I um-” Nate blushed a little.
“Nate like to hang out with the girls,” Andrew explained.
“Yeah, he even lets them paint his nails, it’s bizarre,” Iggy said. Nate looked a little mortified. Dean thought he was starting to get the picture.
“Ah, well,” Dean said, patting Nate on the shoulder in an attempt to put him at ease. “I’m sure you’ll be thankful to have a man on the inside in the coming years. So, don’t burn any bridges with this dude, guys.”
Iggy, Andrew and Teddy all looked at Dean in confusion. Dean just shrugged. He looked up at Sam to find him biting back a smile.
“It’s true,” Harry said. “Two more years, and Nate’s going to be quite the asset. I know Hermione was.”
“You guys aren’t making sense,” Teddy said.
“Let’s just go see the castle,” Sam said. “I’m looking forward to seeing this Quidditch game in action. Did you play this sport in school, Harry?”
“He was a seeker!” Nate suddenly said. “Some think he could have gone professional, only he became the youngest full Auror ever instead and-" Nate cut himself off and blushed deeply when Harry started chuckling.
“People talk me up,” Harry said. “But yes, I did play seeker position in school. I never really wanted to be a professional player though.”
The talk of Quidditch lasted a good long time, as Harry related some of the more amusing catches he had performed in school. Nate hung on every word. Dean thought it was pretty funny that most everyone they had met was star-struck by Harry because he had defeated Voldemort , but Nate was star-struck because Harry had once caught a golden ball in his mouth by accident.
Teddy bounced around the group of them narrating about where they were, and where his classes were, and where they were going next. They had an hour before Quidditch practice started, so Teddy took them through the different wings of the castle – pointing out the astronomy tower, and the potions room, and where the different common rooms were. Harry tried to explain about the different houses, but Dean sort of got lost on the part where a talking hat read their minds.
He did get that there were different traits associated with the different houses though, and that where Harry’s house was noted for bravery, Teddy’s was loyalty. Nate had a friend in the one for smart people, and Iggy’s cousin was in the other one – there was some discussion as to what trait went with the fourth house. Harry said they were ambitious. Andrew said that most people thought they were evil. Iggy took offense to that on behalf of his cousin, and then Teddy explained that it wasn’t really fair to judge a whole house on the mistakes their parents made.
They finally came to the library. As soon as Dean saw it, he knew he had just lost his brother. It was huge, and old, just like all of Sam’s favourite libraries. A librarian sat off to the side, waving a wand at the books students left on her desk, causing the books to fly up into the air and resort themselves onto the shelves.
“Dean...” Sam said.
“Quidditch first, Sam, then we’ll see if we have time,” Dean answered.
“But Dean...” Sam repeated. He wasn’t even looking at Dean anymore.
“The train doesn’t leave until seven,” Harry said. “You can get a good hour or so in after dinner.”
“Only?” Sam said.
“Come on, Sam,” Dean said. “You’re the one that wanted to see this sport in action. And the boys are looking forward to it.”
“Right, yeah,” Sam said.
“Come on,” Teddy said. “It’s almost time for practice, and I want to show you the grounds.”
Dean grabbed Sam’s elbow and tugged until Sam stumbled back out the library doors.
Teddy led them around the grounds. Sam tugged his coat tighter to himself, as the wind whipped off the lake. Sam thought of the sunny warm version of the grounds that he had seen in Harry’s memories the year before, and wished fleetingly that it weren’t currently January. He couldn’t imagine Teddy and his friends sitting out here to study, but then Teddy led them to the edge of the forest, where a little alcove of evergreens shielded them from the wind. Teddy cast a fire in the middle of the clearing and dusted the snow off some fallen logs, and Sam had to admit that it actually was quite a cozy secluded place even in the winter time.
Teddy brought their attention up the slope next to the little secluded alcove, where he pointed to a large willow tree on the ridge.
“That’s the Whomping Willow” Teddy explained, “watch this!”
Sam watched in curiosity as Teddy packed a snowball and then ran up the slope towards the large tree.
“Not to close, Teddy!” Harry called.
“He knows,” Andrew said.
Teddy launched the snowball towards one of the branches –though, his aim was off, because it was going to sail right over the branch - except that the tree moved, reaching its branch up and swatting the snowball violently, so that it broke into pieces that sailed back towards Teddy. Teddy giggled like he was playing a game with a friend, and then jogged back over to them.
“Did you see?” he asked.
“What-" Dean started to say.
“It hits anything that comes close to it,” Teddy explained. “Andy was thrown ten feet his first week here, because no one thought to tell him!”
“Isn’t that a little dangerous?” Sam asked.
“It protects a secret passage way,” Harry explained. Teddy nodded.
“It’s so werewolf kids can come to school,” Teddy continued. “They’re taught how to stop the tree, and then they go in the passage way and stay someplace safe while they change. It’s what my Dad did. Isn’t it cool?”
“Very cool,” Dean said.
“Come on, let’s get to the pitch,” Iggy said, running up the hill – far away from the willow.
“Do you want some warming charms?” a small voice said next to Sam. Sam looked to see Nate, nervously biting his lip. “You look a little cold, and...um...Teddy said that, uh...I mean, he told me that I can’t tell anyone, and I haven’t, but I know that you’re not...that is...I mean, I could do a warming charm for you, if you like?”
“What does it do?” Sam asked, feeling odd asking what was probably a stupid question after a full day of pretending that he could do magic if he wanted to.
“If I cast it on your clothes, it’ll make them warm,” Nate explained, “like um...like electric blankets?”
“Can you do it on my socks?” Sam asked. Nate nodded, and both of them stopped walking, falling behind the others. Sam pulled up his pant leg and then tugged his socks above his boots, while Nate knelt down and muttered something, touching the tip of his wand to Sam’s sock.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dean suddenly said, just as Sam’s foot was engulfed in a very pleasant warmth.
“Dude, you have got to let him do it to you too!” Sam said, while he pulled up the other pant leg so that Nate could do the other sock too. “It’s awesome.”
Nate looked nervously at Dean, but then focused his attention back at Sam’s sock and muttered the spell again.
“What the hell is it, Sam?” Dean asked again.
“Warming charms,” Teddy explained. “Sorry, I should have thought to offer you some. I forgot that you can’t. Nate’s really great at them. So, you should have him do yours too.”
“Or I could, if you’d prefer,” Harry said.
Sam watched as Dean and Nate shared a look - Dean raising an eyebrow and Nate looking slightly nervous.
“Nah, the kid can do it,” Dean finally relented.
While Nate charmed Dean’s socks, Sam asked Harry if he could do his coat too. Now that he knew what a warming charm felt like, he figured it would only make things better...especially if they were going to be sitting in some sort of outdoor stadium to watch the game.
They arrived at the pitch just as a large group of students in yellow and black robes and padding arrived. A tall blond girl, who Sam put somewhere around sixteen years old, bounced over to Harry.
“Hello Mr. Potter, Professors,” the girl addressed them. “Teddy told me that you’d like to watch practice. If you want, you could participate too. The others would be excited to play alongside you.”
“Thanks, Eliza,” Harry said. “But I think I’ll just watch with my friends.”
“They can play too,” Eliza tried. Sam looked past her to the field, where he saw some of the kids mount their broomsticks and kick off the ground – soaring high into the frigid January air and then, if that wasn’t daring enough, they started to do loops and play aerial chicken with one another.
“No,” Dean said. “Thanks. Uh, we’ll watch. Just watch.”
Sam didn’t have to look at Dean to tell that he was watching the same thing Sam was. Forget the fact that he and Dean probably couldn’t ride brooms – even if they could, there was no way they were going to.
“Ok, it was worth a try,” Eliza smiled warmly, “but do feel free to give us any tips! We’ll be dividing the team and playing a mock match on half the pitch. Best seats would probably be to the left or right of the goal posts on that side there.” Eliza pointed to where three large rings stood on tall pillars.
“Thanks again, Eliza,” Harry said.
Harry led them up a staircase until they reached the top of the bleachers. Then they let the kids run down ahead of them and pick out whatever they thought would be the best seats. The team was already flying in lazy loops around the pitch. Then Eliza opened a trunk below everyone and Sam couldn’t quite see the balls, until suddenly they were flying up towards the players – seemingly of their own free will.
“Snitch in play!” Eliza shouted, just as Sam saw a small gold ball dart out of the trunk and seemingly disappear into thin air.
Harry started explaining the game to him and Dean, while Andrew, Nate, and Iggy talked about what positions they might like to try out for. Sam couldn’t imagine a stranger sport. It was like basket ball, only without dribbling – so it was like wheelchair basket ball on broomsticks. Only, there were also two players with huge bats that seemed like they had decided to play an extremely violent version of dodge-ball. On top of that, there was a smaller kid who was circling everyone overhead and occasionally hurtling themselves downward like a bird of prey before pulling up just before they hit something. Sam had heard about the bludgers and the snitch, of course, and Harry was explaining it all again now – but it was quite another thing to see it in action.
“You want to do this?!” Dean asked Nate and Andrew in disbelief.
“Yeah!” they chorused.
“What happens if someone falls!?” Dean asked. Sam looked over to see that Dean had his fingers clenched in fists on his thighs, and seemed to be breathing just a little oddly. Ok, so maybe Dean’s fear of flying had less to do with airplanes and more to do with...well, flying.
“No one falls,” Iggy laughed. “You’d have to be a pretty rubbish flyer to-OUCH! What the bloody hell did you do that for Ted?!”
“Um,” Harry said. “If it’s during a match, there are the teachers and the referee that can perform quick charms to cushion the fall. If it’s during practice, the captain is expected to keep an eye on the players and know basic healing charms.” Harry then looked over at Iggy, who was holding his foot and glaring at Teddy, and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Iggy, I think that was Teddy’s way of telling you that I fell off my broom in third year and fell nearly fifty feet. But, you know, I was being attacked by Dementors, it was hardly because I was a rubbish flyer.”
Sam watched as Iggy’s eyes went huge, and so did Dean’s.
“You FELL!” Dean said, “you were fifty feet in the AIR and Dementors ATTACKED you!”
“Well, attacked is a strong word I suppose,” Harry said. “They came too close. I was highly susceptible.”
“Dumbledore saved him though,” Teddy said.
“Right,” Harry said, “so, no harm done, except we lost the match of course. Hardly fair, if you ask me,”
“Oh god,” Dean said. “Teddy, don’t ever play this sport, ok?”
“Uh, ok, Dean,” Teddy said, giving Dean a bemused look. “I’m not very good at it anyway.”
“Good, good,” Dean said, “keep it that way.” Dean threw a concerned look over at Nate and Andrew, but then shook his head and turned his attention back to the game.
“So, as you know,” Harry said. “I played Seeker in school. Ron played Keeper. Fred and George were Beaters.” Sam pictured George and a copy of George violently chucking heavy balls at their fellow students, and thought that it actually fit somehow. He wondered if George had ever played dodgeball – probably he would have found it boring. “Ginny was a professional Chaser with the Hollyhead Harpies.”
“THIS is the sport that Ginny played?” Dean asked. “Holy...no wonder she said the professional players don’t last long. Man...she’s awesome.”
“How come Ginny is awesome, but I’m not allowed to play?” Teddy asked.
“Because I don’t want you to fall to your death,” Dean said.
“Just leave it Teddy,” Sam said. “He never makes sense when he gets like this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean asked. Sam sighed.
“So the match ends when the Seeker catches the Snitch, right?” Sam asked Harry.
“Yes, but this is practice, so, it’ll also end in about ten minutes regardless.“
“Well, I think he’s got it,” Sam said, pointing over to where the smallest player was currently flying as fast as he possibly could towards the ground, where a small golden object could be seen coasting just over the white snow.
“He’s going to kill himself,” Dean muttered.
They watched as the kid reached out and grabbed the snitch, and then attempted to pull up from the ground. It didn’t quite work though, as broom caught on a snowdrift and launched the kid into a snow bank at the side of the stadium.
Everyone seemed to pause what they were doing for a second, as they all looked to the boy shaped hole in the snow bank, until finally a hand reached out holding the Snitch.
“Game over!” Eliza called. “Great job! Caught the Snitch in under an hour that time!”
The boy was now completely out of the snow bank and shaking the snow out of his jacket rather vigorously. Eliza called the team down to go over plays and concerns, Sam deduced from the snippets of conversation that he could hear from the stands. Harry stood and motioned for them to go down as well. Teddy and his friends eagerly plied him and Dean with questions about how much they had enjoyed the game, and how real matches were better because you had proper sized teams and played with the whole field.
When they got down to the pitch, Harry motioned them forward and began shaking all the players’ hands like some sort of politician. Sam just thanked them as a group for allowing him and Dean to watch the practice, and told them they had done a great job, even though he had nothing to compare it to.
Finally, when Harry was done with the last of the requests for his autograph on his wife’s trading card, and Teddy, his friends, and Dean were looking somewhat bored, Harry said goodbye to Eliza again and motioned them back towards the castle.
“Library?” Sam asked.
“Food,” Dean answered.
Harry laughed, and turned to the four young boys.
“Food first, I think” Harry said. “Now, please tell me you guys are on good terms with the house-elves.”
“House elves?” Dean said, and Sam flashed back to the miserable looking portrait in the corner of Harry’s kitchen. This, he thought, was going to be interesting.