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).
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |
| 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 |
| 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28
Summary: In which there is a feast and then Harry thinks of a way to apologize.
The Great Hall erupted in applause as Professor McGonagall led Harry and the Winchesters towards the staff table. The Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw rose to their feet and seemed to be in competition for who could cheer the loudest. Above them, the enchanted ceiling displayed the starry night sky. Along the wall, banners hung. Harry wondered who had designed them on such short notice – but it appeared as though someone had made the Winchesters their very own coat of arms. The standard shield displayed a unique design that involved rifles and a 1967 Chevrolet Impala. On either side, instead of animals, the shield was held by two familiar silhouettes, one taller than the other.
Harry turned and grinned at the Winchesters, who seemed to not be able to decide if they should be overwhelmed or bashful – the effect was actually quite adorable, judging by the way some of the older girls were sighing and whispering to each other.
When they reached the table, Harry sat to the right of the Headmistress’ chair, with Dean beside him and Sam beside Dean. Neville sat beside Sam, and Ernie sat beside Neville. Hagrid was at the very end of the table and the other teachers were squished to Professor McGonagall’s other side. Once everyone was seated, Professor McGonagall silenced the hall. Harry could see Teddy shush his own friends, his hair still black, but oddly a little longer than usual. Harry could also see a smattering of freckles across his nose.
“May I have your attention,” Professor McGonagall said, as the room quieted. “As I’m sure most of you have heard by now from your fellow students, there was an attack today on the Second Year Hufflepuff-Ravenclaw Herbology class. The perpetrator was a former Death Eater and is on his way to Azkaban as we speak. I would like to thank Harry Potter and the Auror Department for their swift response to the threat and for the services they have rendered to the Hogwarts today. I would like to thank our visiting Professors, Sam and Dean, who used their unique knowledge and talents to help against a summoned force of evil during the battle. In particular, I would like to thank Sam, who used his own body to shield a student from an Unforgivable curse. Certainly, such a sacrifice is a reflection of a noble character, and gives us all pause to consider whether we ourselves could make such a decision so instinctually if we were presented with a similar situation. It goes without saying, that if I were to sort Sam and Dean into a House at Hogwarts, they would certainly fit into Gryffindor for their bravery, Ravenclaw for their intelligence and cunning, Slytherin for their ability to keep their own confidence, and Hufflepuff for their loyalty to each other and their care for others.”
Each table applauded as they were named. The Hufflepuff table erupting the loudest of all, with Teddy beaming up at them proudly. Harry glanced over at Sam and Dean to find them both blushing.
“It’s...what we do,” Sam whispered, as though someone were thanking him for breathing.
“I hope that today also serves as a reminder to us all,” McGonagall continued, “that no matter what our abilities we should always endeavour to defend those who cannot defend themselves, and always remember that it is ignorance that creates bigotry and hatred, and through knowledge and friendship we can stand against it. Please, enjoy the feast.”
The tables were suddenly covered in full plates of food, and pitchers of pumpkin juice, and the applause of the students dimmed into the clatter of cutlery and happy chatter.
“What usually happens when you finish a job?” Harry asked Dean.
“We get the hell out of town before the cops show up,” Dean answered.
“You know,” Harry said. “Sometimes I understand why Hunters try to hide the truth from the rest of society, but other times I have to wonder how much easier it would be if you were celebrated instead of persecuted.”
“We protect people,” Dean shrugged, “one way or another.”
“Besides,” Sam added. “If we were legit, we’d have to file taxes. I did those for three fuckin’ years, man. Not fun.”
Harry shook his head and smiled.
Ron showed up about ten minutes into the meal. Harry’s attention was drawn to the open doors as soon as Ron strode in. Ron was in full auror mode still, Harry had grown used to it over the years, but there were times when it still caught him off guard. There was a harder set to Ron’s jaw, and a seriousness that Harry would never have associated with him when they were kids. He could feel the children’s conversation in the hall dampen a little bit, or turn nervous.
When Ron caught Harry’s eye, Harry smiled, and pointed to his own mouth while doing it. Ron raised an eyebrow and then seemed to clue in. Harry watched as Ron’s whole body seemed to shift into the more familiar visage of Ron, his shoulders slouching casually, and his demeanour shifting from intense to friendly and open. He glanced away from Harry and immediately found first Teddy’s eyes at the Hufflepuff table, and then Vicky’s eyes at the Gryffindor table. He walked past Teddy and ruffled his hair.
Beside Harry, Professor McGonagall stood up and conjured a chair to squeeze between her seat and Harry’s seat at the head table.
“A round of applause for Auror Weasley for his crucial help this afternoon,” Professor McGonagall announced, and the hall broke out into cheers and clapping. Harry laughed as Ron blushed, though he smiled proudly and bowed with a flourish before he sat down.
“How’d you like the banners?” Ron asked, looking past Harry to Dean and Sam. “When McGonagall asked, I put her in touch with Hermione – since I was transporting the prisoner and all.”
“They’re awesome, man,” Dean said. “It’s like we’re fuckin’ royalty, instead of just a couple of drifters.”
Dean was really enjoying his steak. Beside him, Sam was talking to Neville about meadowsweet or something equally lame. Harry and Ron were talking to McGonagall about something vaguely political sounding. Dean scanned the student tables until he found Teddy, who was surrounded by his friends and, it appeared, a few students from other tables that had switched seats once the feast had started.
Teddy seemed to be fielding questions. Dean couldn’t see his face from where he was sitting, because Teddy was leaning across the table in the opposite direction, and his hair was longer than usual and was hiding his face. Dean watched in interest as Teddy’s hair seemed to be changing from mousy brown to a more honey-coloured brown, the ends of it curling ever so slightly at the back of his neck.
Then someone on Teddy’s other side seemed to ask a question, because Teddy turned back towards the head table, tucking his long hair behind his ear in a familiar gesture. Dean couldn’t help the gasp that left him at the sight of Teddy’s face. Sure, he had seen Teddy’s abilities just a week before, when he had shown Teddy and old picture of Sam and had him mimic it, but this was different somehow.
“Dean?” Sam asked him.
“He looks like you,” Dean said. “He looks like he could be your son.”
Teddy’s eyes had the slight slant that Sam’s had, and the same slope to his nose. Only, he wasn’t exactly like Sam, because his eyes were still green, and he had freckles across his nose, and his mouth was different.
“He must be talking about us,” Sam smiled beside Dean, “I think he looks more like you, actually.”
Dean shook his head, denying it – Teddy definitely looked just like Sam, or rather, just like Sam’s son would look like, if things had been different and Sam had married Jess like he wanted. It was as though Dean was looking at what might have been, if they had been dealt different cards in life, and more so than ever, he wanted a chance to start over, a chance for at least one of them to escape their fate.
It was during dessert that Harry realized that Dean and Sam were holding a private conversation in hushed voices, and Harry had been so caught up in Ron’s report of Carrow’s transfer that he hadn’t realized it.
“...just because we can get in, doesn’t mean we should...”
“...we needed Malfoy to move the stairs, what are we going to do, use a grappling hook? We don’t even know which door the prophecies...”
“...useless anyway, we know what it’ll say...”
“...could be something in there that might help...”
Harry realized with a sinking feeling that he was far from off the hook when it came to withholding the prophecy from the Winchesters. He thought back to what Castiel had told him in the American Hall of Prophecies. He tried to consider whether knowing his own prophecy had really changed anything – he wasn’t sure that it had, and besides, as the Winchesters had said, they already knew the prophecy. It had already played out and was over. He wasn’t sure why they would desire so much to hear it from a different source – maybe it was that they needed help interpreting it, maybe hoping for a clue as to how to reverse it.
Trelawney was still the divination teacher at Hogwarts, so Harry knew the only way she would be of help would be the off chance that she went into a trance upon sight of the Winchesters. No, Harry needed someone else if he was going to make amends for this, and he could really only think of one person that he trusted.
Sam said his goodbyes to Neville and Ernie after the dinner. He shook Professor McGonagall’s hand and thanked her again for the meal and kind words she had said. Only about a quarter of the students were still in the great hall – though, Teddy and his friends were obviously just waiting there for Harry, Dean, and Sam to be finished with their meals. As soon as Harry made his way out from behind the staff table, Teddy and his friends were on their feet and bounding over. Victoire was with them too, having moved over to the Hufflepuff table sometime during the meal.
“Hey mate,” Ron greeted Teddy, “Harry tells me you’re still better adjusted than he ever was.”
“I am,” Teddy confirmed, with a smile that indicated to Sam that this might be a running joke between the two of them.
“Have you owled your Dad yet, Vicky?” Ron asked, turning to his niece.
“I’ll do it tomorrow morning, Uncle Ron,” Vicky replied, rolling her eyes. Ron nodded.
“Alright, well, I’m going to apparate home,” Ron said, turning back to Harry. “Do you want me to take Dean with me or are you guys going to go by train or floo?”
“Actually, there’s someone I want to talk to before we leave, so you can just go on ahead and I’ll get Sam and Dean home on my own thanks,” Harry answered. Sam gave Harry a curious look, but Harry wasn’t looking at him.
“Who?” Ron asked.
“Maybe it’s none of your business,” Harry smirked.
“Your business is always my business, Harry,” Ron said.
“Last time I checked, I was married to your sister, not you,” Harry replied.
“You wound me,” Ron said, clutching a hand to his heart. Then he sobered. “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to do something completely daft?”
“Because I am?” Harry replied.
Ron just shook his head, told Harry they’d talk later, and made his goodbyes, slipping out the door and into the waiting carriage outside.
“Alright, guys,” Harry said, turning back to Teddy and his friends. “Sam, Dean, and I have to go for a walk in the woods. Nate, how about you warm Sam up?” Harry said. Sam gave Nate a sympathetically embarrassed smile as Nate blushed. “Teddy, do you think you can handle the warming charms for Dean?”
“Yes, Harry,” Teddy said.
Sam smiled as Nate came up to him and asked what articles of clothing he wanted the charms on.
“My socks and jacket again, please,” Sam said, taking a knee in front of the kid to make it easier for him.
Nate made quick work of the warming charms. It was a little unnecessary inside the castle, and actually made Sam sweat a little, but he knew that as soon as he got outside, he’d be thankful for the extra warmth – especially on his feet.
“Thanks Nate,” Sam said. “You’re going to make someone very happy someday, man.”
“Thanks,” Nate replied.
Sam looked over to where Teddy was casting similar spells on Dean, and he watched as Teddy smiled brightly and laughed in response to something Dean said. Dean smiled softly at Teddy, and Sam was inexplicably reminded of the way Dean had smiled at that kid, Ben, in Cicero.
Teddy came over to Sam next.
“Thanks for everything, Sam,” Teddy said, shaking Sam’s hand politely.
“Anytime,” Sam said, not knowing what else to say. Teddy looked at Sam like he was insane, but his smile was broad and happy.
Then Teddy turned to Harry, and Harry pulled him into a brief one armed hug.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come home for the weekend?” Harry said. “I bet I could arrange it with Professor McGonagall.”
“I’m fine Harry,” Teddy sighed. “I’ll owl you every day until you believe me, if you like.”
“Ok,” Harry said. “I’m really sorry about today. I’ll do my best to make sure it never happens-”
Teddy abruptly turned to his friends, cutting Harry off.
“How about you guys go on down to the common room,” Teddy said. “I’ll be right behind you, okay?”
Teddy’s friends all seemed a little surprised, Vicky included, but then they all nodded.
“Goodbye Sam and Dean”
“It was nice to meet you”
“Have a safe trip back to America”
“I hope you enjoy the rest of your time in the UK”
“Goodbye Uncle Harry”
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Potter”
Sam waved and called his own farewells as the group of young students disappeared down a corridor. Then Teddy gave him and Dean a meaningful look before turning back to Harry. Dean stepped closer to Sam, and they both stepped a little bit away from where Teddy and Harry stood, though with the way the Entrance Hall echoed, they could hardly step out of earshot.
“Harry, I’m going to tell you something, and then that’s going to be the end of this discussion ok?” Teddy said, his hair turning black and his eyes burning green, and if Sam assumed that Teddy was mimicking Harry at that moment, he would have been wrong, because his tone of voice was definitely something inherited from Andromeda – and Sam would know, having been on the receiving end of the witche’s stern look just the week before.
Harry nodded, and actually looked a little terrified.
“There is absolutely no reason for you to apologize. What happened today wasn’t your fault,” Teddy said.
“But, you didn’t get much choice in who-"
“Harry,” Teddy interrupted again. “Even if Voldemort himself came back from the grave and made it his personal mission to kill me to get revenge on you, I still wouldn’t regret having you as my godfather.”
Teddy shot another look over to Sam and Dean, and they both tried to pretend like the painting on the wall beside them was extremely interesting – although, Sam wasn’t sure what good it did, given that the occupants of the painting were all listening intently to what Teddy was saying.
“I love you,” Teddy said in a low voice, “I love my brothers and sister, I love Ginny. I’m proud to be your beloved freak, ok? So don’t apologize for loving me too.”
“I don’t deserve you,” Harry said. “And don’t call yourself that.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Teddy laughed. “Just think how boring I would be, if I weren’t the son of a metamorphmagus and a werewolf!”
“I love you,” Harry said, pulling Teddy into a hug.
Teddy’s laughter filled the corridor.
“I think we established that, yeah,” Teddy said. “Now don’t cry or anything, or you’ll embarrass all of wizard-kind in front of the Hunters.”
“Right,” Harry said. “Ok, owl me tomorrow, alright?”
“Dear Harry, it’s been 12 hours since I last saw you and I am still alive,” Teddy said sarcastically.
“Don’t joke,” Harry said, but the sternness in his voice was ruined by a chuckle, “I’m allowed to be ridiculously overprotective.”
“Just as long as you don’t start calling me Teddykins,” Teddy replied.
“Oh god, nevermind about the owl then,” Harry said. “Goodnight, Master Lupin”
“Mister Potter,” Teddy mocked a formal bow.
“You’re both ridiculous,” Dean laughed from beside Sam.
“Oh,” Harry said, checking his watch, looking at Sam and Dean as though he had forgotten they were there. “We better get going.”
They said their final goodbyes to Teddy, ruffling his hair, which changed from black to dirty blond, to mixture of both – while his eyes turned hazel. Then they finally stepped out into the cold night – which was a relief after spending the past ten minutes in the warm castle with warming charms on their jackets.
“So, who is it that you need to talk to?” Dean asked.
“Someone who might be able to help with you with your prophecy,” Harry answered, and Sam’s interest was immediately piqued.
“What do you mean?” Sam asked. He and Dean had argued about it over dinner – in the end, even though it had been Dean who brought it up, Dean had decided that the risks of breaking into the American Ministry of Magic were too great for something that probably wouldn’t help. After all, Castiel had told them that the prophecy in there was irrelevant.
“I overheard you at dinner,” Harry said. “I thought, maybe, since you already know the prophecy and it’s already happened, there wasn’t much point in risking your lives to break into the American Ministry, but you clearly have questions. So, I thought maybe you’d like to talk to someone that might know something about interpreting prophecies.”
“There isn’t much to interpret,” Dean sighed. “It’s pretty straight forward.”
“Who is it that you think could help? A psychic?” Sam asked, wondering why it was that they were heading into the woods.
“He’d hate to be called that,” Harry said. “He’s just someone who knows a thing or two about this sort of thing. There are a few rules I’ll have to impose on you though. Rule number one, you absolutely must not draw your weapons unless I say. Rule number two, you have to be polite as possible – I have to have your word that you will not insult anyone we talk to tonight...we’ll find ourselves quickly outnumbered and in a heap of trouble if you do. Do I have your word?”
Sam nodded, even though he felt something inside him shift at Harry’s words – his mind and body clicking into hunting mode, instead of being relaxed.
“Dean?” Harry asked.
“I’ll do my best,” Dean said. “Who the hell are you taking us to see, man? I’m not sure I like the sound of this.”
“Friends?” Dean repeated.
“F-I-R-E-N-Z-E,” Harry spelled out. “He’s a centaur.”
“A what? You’re joking” Dean said, but then he remembered the fountain in the ministry – the one with the weird creatures. He had thought it was just strange art, but now when he thought back on it, he recognized that one of the things in the statue had been a house-elf, and if they existed, than it made sense that the others may exist as well.
“So they are real?” Sam said beside him, and Dean figured he must have had a similar thought.
“Yes, they’re real,” Harry said. “They don’t really like humans very much though, which is why it’s very important that we mind our manners and don’t appear threatening at all. Firenze is alright, but I can’t promise anything about the others.”
“How many?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know,” Harry replied.
They walked in silence for a few more minutes. Harry had taken out his wand and made the end light up like flashlight. It cast everything in an eerie bluish light.
Dean was contemplating whether he should tell Harry that the prophecy hadn’t happened, at least, not completely – not yet. It’s not like he hadn’t caught Harry’s wording. It’s not as though Dean didn’t know that Harry wasn’t aware of the full truth. Harry had assumed that the prophecy was only about the seals, and part of Dean didn’t want to ruin that. Part of Dean didn’t want to explain that he and Sam were supposed to destroy half of the world – destroy places like Hogwarts – maybe kill the kids they had just saved.
Dean cut a glance to Sam, and could see the same questions in Sam’s eyes, along with a now familiar edge of fear as Sam glanced at Harry. Would Harry’s opinion of Sam change when he knew that Sam was destined to be Lucifer’s meatsuit? Dean didn’t know. Sam refocused on the path in front of him, and Dean found himself missing the days when all it took to cheer Sam up was a piggyback ride to the corner store to buy a candy bar.
“Harry,” Sam said, after clearing his throat. Dean’s attention was back on Sam, because this was Sam taking the decision to tell Harry away from him. Dean knew it simply by the way Sam said Harry’s name.
“Mm?” Harry said, glancing back at Sam.
“Harry, the prophecy, it’s not-” Sam started, but then Harry cut him off with a wave of his hand.
“Who’s there?” Harry asked the darkness behind Sam.
Dean tensed and turned his attention to trees and low lying bushes. Standing beside a large pine was a young man, only, midway down his torso, his body changed into that of a horse. His skin was brown, smooth on the part that was a man, and fur coated on the part that was a horse. His hair was long and blond. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen.
“You trespass,” the boy said, instead of answering Harry.
“I seek audience with Firenze,” Harry answered. “My name is Harry Potter – he knows me.”
“Everyone knows you,” The teenaged centaur said.
“They only know of me. It is not the same,” Harry replied.
“This is true,” the centaur replied. He’s gaze then shifted to Sam and Dean, and Dean really regretted telling Harry he wouldn’t draw a weapon, because he was feeling pretty uneasy – especially given the fact that he could see the quiver that the centaur held casually at his side, an arrow already nocked, though the string was still loose. “And your company?”
“Sam and Dean Winchester,” Harry replied. Dean watched as the Centaur shifted on his four feet – like an uneasy horse, rather than a man. It was the first Dean had seen the animal part of him surface in his behaviour. The young centaur glanced up at the night sky, concerned.
Dean then heard whispers from the woods around them, and the centaur glanced over his shoulder and nodded at someone unseen. Dean realized that there was more than just the teenager with them now. There was an unknown amount of centaurs hiding around them, perhaps some with their arrows nocked and their bowstrings pulled tight.
“My name is Gali,” the centaur spoke. “I will give your request to Firenze. Remain here.”
“Thank you, Gali” Harry said.
Dean watched as the brown colt disappeared into the darkness of the woods, his blond tail swaying with his gait.
“Harry-” Dean said.
“We’re being watched,” Harry said. “Rules are still in effect.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean said before he could stop himself. Dean didn’t know how to ask his questions without the risk of being rude. He couldn’t draw his weapons, and he didn’t know how many centaurs were currently watching them, nor how many arrows might possibly already be aimed at them. Dean moved closer to Sam, who was already moving closer to Dean.
They waited in silence for what seemed like forever, but was probably only ten minutes, and then Gali appeared on top of a rise in front of them. Dean expected him to speak, but instead the young centaur just turned and watched as an older centaur climbed the hill slowly. This centaur was a palomino and walked with a slight limp.
“Firenze,” Harry greeted. “Thank you for seeing me.”
Fanart by the lovely