Hell's Half Acre (hells_half_acre) wrote,
Hell's Half Acre

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Fic: Damned Demented Demons 3/32 SPN/HP

Title: Damned Demented Demons 3/32
Author: ME!
Fandoms: Supernatural/Harry Potter
Rating: PG (for swearing)
Warnings: Spoilers for all Harry Potter books, Spoilers up to 4x10 for Supernatural.
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean belong to Kripke, Harry Potter belongs to Rowling.
A/N: I started writing this just for fun and something to do. When it got up to about 6 chapters and I was nowhere near done, I figured I might as well start posting it. I don't know how long it'll end up being (it's 6 chapters now), nor when I will complete it, nor exactly what will happen in later chapters, but I might as well take some other people on this amusing journey with me.
A/N to Chapter 3: A lot of exposition in this one...sorry. I'm obsessed with blending the worlds right. And just so you know, I am working on later chapters - the reason the chapter count hasn't gone up is because I've decided to make several chapters longer than I previously had them. So even though I've written a fair bit since I started posting, I'm still sitting at 6 chapters.

Summary: In which Harry may or may not convince Dean not to kill him.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

"What kind of cake?"


Harry watched as Dean mulled over his answer. For the first time in his life, Harry found himself praying that someone liked chocolate.

"Dean! Let him up!" Sam called from somewhere above them, having, Harry assumed, finally been able to swallow the cake in his mouth. Dean pulled the knife away from Harry's throat, but didn't let go of his wand arm, nor did he get off him.

"Sam?" Dean said, "Are you ok? Who is this guy?"

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam replied. Sam's huge frame appeared behind Dean. "His name is Harry. He saved us. Let him up." One of Sam's hands tugged at Dean's shoulder and Harry breathed a sigh of relief as Dean shifted off of him.

"Stay still, let me get you some cake," Sam told Dean. It was then that Harry realized that Dean was shaking ever so slightly. Harry sat up and put a hand to his throat. No blood. Someone who was affected so severely by a Dementor should not have been able to hold a knife still, let alone press it to someone throat and not accidentally cut them.

"What did I tell you about strangers offering you cake, Sammy?" Dean retorted, though he obeyed Sam and didn't try to get up. Sam scoffed in reply, but Harry could tell it was out of amusement.

Harry went to stand, but suddenly Dean's hand shot out and grabbed his wand-hand. A jolt of pain traveled up Harry's arm as Dean dug a finger into a pressure point, and Harry's grip on his wand gave way. Harry let out a small noise at the pain, but didn't move to to counter-attack.

"You may have saved us, but for now I keep the fancy stick, understand?" Dean said lowly. Harry nodded. He wondered if perhaps he should have left Sam alone with the chocolate syrup and told him to figure it out himself and disappeared, but there were still so many unanswered questions. He had also assumed due to Sam's size and the hard glares, that Sam was the more threatening of the two brothers, obviously Harry was an idiot.

"Dean..." Sam said exasperated, "you didn't have to hurt..." Harry narrowed his eyes at Sam, cutting him off.

"I can look after myself, thank you," Harry said. "If he wants to hold my bloody wand, he can go right ahead."

Sam pursed his lips. Harry could tell he was trying not to laugh and he felt himself beginning to blush. Honestly, this was humiliating. He hadn't been disarmed since...well, before Riddle fell. Harry resisted the urge to look at Dean, as he suddenly wondered if the Elder Wand's allegiance could pass to a Muggle.

"I hope you left me some bloody cake..." Harry muttered as he stood and made his way over to the small table, trying to hide his embarrassment. Sam handed Dean a piece of cake, and sat on the floor beside him, as if sitting on the floor was the normal thing to do while eating cake. Harry pulled over a chair and decided to enjoy looking down at the brothers in childish vengance.

"This cake is awesome, thanks dude," Dean said, around a mouthful of said cake. Harry saw Sam roll his eyes, but Harry recognized the comment for what it was - a peace offering.

"Glad you like it," Harry replied, and he was glad. There was more colour in Dean's cheeks now, and Harry knew that the chocolate was working and the perimeter was most likely wide-enough.

"So..." Dean said, "do you mind telling me why you were force-feeding me chocolate?"

Harry swallowed his mouthful of cake, and placed his plate to the side. "You were attacked...well, not really, but you came too close to some creatures called Dementors. You passed out, and your brother was concerned, and you may have woken up on your own, but I decided not to risk it. Chocolate is the only thing that counter-acts the effect Dementors have on a person."

"Dementors feed on happiness, Dean," Sam chimed in, making an effort, Harry was sure, to explain why he had allowed a stranger near him while Dean was unconscious. "Harry says they take all your happy memories away and leave you with just the bad ones. So I thought...well, you know..." Sam trailed off, and Harry surmised that Dean's sojourn in Hell was most likely a taboo topic among the brothers. Harry decided to rescue Sam.

"I talked to Sam and I think that you've probably been feeling the effects of the Dementors for a few days now. Does that sound about right?"

Dean nodded and gave his cake and angry look. "Yeah, that explains a few things," Dean replied softly.

"Could you see them?" Harry asked.

"If I had seen them, I would have shot them," Dean responded in a growl.

"Well, that would be a waste of bullets, but I suppose it answers my question," Harry replied. "Sam, you saw them though, right? Tonight, in the parking lot?"

"Yeah..." Sam replied slowly, and then continued when Dean gave him a look, "like black flying shadows of people. I saw them just before that deer came. It was hard though, like my eyes wanted to look passed them. I couldn't focus. It hurt my head."

"Interesting," Harry muttered. Sam was definitely a Muggle. There was no way that a wizard could reach that age without being noticed. Accidental magic only increased with age, if a wizard went untrained.

"What's interesting?" Dean asked. Harry realized that his thoughts about Sam must have been showing on his face, because Dean was giving him a look that clearly stated that he didn't appreciate people finding his brother interesting. Harry wondered just how many other people had found something interesting about Sam.

"Muggles - that means non-magic people - can't normally see Dementors. You're not a wizard, Sam, but you could see the Dementors. I just don't understand why," Harry replied. Sam and Dean shot each other significant looks, leaving Harry out of some sort of silent conversation...or argument, judging by some of the expressions.

"Your nose bleed?" Dean finally asked Sam out-loud.

"No," Sam dismissed.

"Same sort of headache though, am I right?" Dean stated. Harry could tell it wasn't really a question, by the way Sam responded by looking away with a clenched jaw.

"Mind filling me in?" Harry asked.

"No," Dean said firmly, "family business."

It appeared Sam wasn't turning back to the conversation anytime soon, as he was still resolutely looking anywhere but at Dean or Harry. Harry sighed. "Alright..."

"So this thing," Dean began, twirling Harry's wand around in his fingers. "You called it a wand. You say only wizards can see Dementors. Am I correct in assuming that you're a wizard?"

"That's correct," Harry replied. Harry didn't know what reaction he had expected, but it definitely wasn't for Dean to reach over and smack Sam on the back of the head.

"What's the matter with you!? Dean chastised, "I can't close my eyes for a second without you palling around with demonic freaks?!"

"Hey!" Both Harry and Sam protested.

"He saved us Dean!" Sam defended.

"So everyone who saves you gets invited back the motel room, is that it? Because I'm beginning to see a pattern here, Sam!" Dean responded.

"If this is about Ruby..." Sam started.

"This is about common sense!" Dean argued back.

"You were dead!" Sam yelled.

"I was just unconscious!"

"No before! You were dead. Ruby was..."

"This isn't about Ruby!"

"I died once. My wife still hasn't forgiven me," Harry cut in, and then watched in satisfaction as both Sam and Dean turned to him in confusion. Mission accomplished. "Now, while I have your attention, I'd like to point out that I am NOT a demon NOR a freak, and I'd thank you not to refer to me as either. As I was telling Sam earlier, I'm an Auror, which is basically the wizard-version of a Hunter. So I'll have you know, Dean, that Sam did not make a poor decision in trusting me. If he hadn't allowed me to help, you would probably still be unconscious and dreaming about godknowswhat, so I thank you to NOT CALL ME A FREAK."

Harry took a deep breath, he really hated being called a freak.

"Dude..." Dean said eloquently, "does your hair always move on it's own like that when you're angry?"

Harry shot him a puzzled look, "Wha...?"

"It totally did, Harry," Sam added. "Blew right off your forehead like there was a wind, only we're inside..."

"Damn it," Harry said, reaching up and feeling his forehead where his bangs usually rested. He quickly smoothed his hair back down over his scar. "Sorry..." he said, "The word freak sort of hits a nerve...and sometimes when I'm angry..."

"Sorry," Dean replied, cutting Harry off, and throwing another significant look towards Sam. "Thanks for helping us and all. But man, if wizards are like witches...we're going to have to gank you."

"Dean!" Sam said in horror. "He's a Hunter!"

"He's a male-witch or something, Sam!" Dean replied.

"Maybe if I explain further?" Harry interrupted. "I think if I explained, you would realize that there's actually no reason to..uh, gank...me."

"Ok, fine," Dean conceded, "Explain, but I think I'd like to get up off the floor now...and get another piece of cake. So let's move this floor party to the table, alright?"

Sam scrambled up after Dean, and Harry pulled his chair back over to the table. Sam let Dean have the other chair, and sat on the end of the bed closest to the table instead.

"Ok. There are two types of witches," Harry began. "There are girls who are born witches. They can't help but be witches. They've got magic in their blood, so to speak. Males that a born with magic in their blood are called wizards. So, you have witches and wizards, like me, who can do magic, see magic creatures, and tend to have magic children...and we all live in a magic society that we keep hidden from anyone who is not magic, because we are either afraid that they will...gank us, or that they will expect us to magically solve all their problems."

"Are there unicorns who shit rainbows there too?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"Well, there are unicorns, but I'm pretty sure they shit the same as other horses," Harry answered, rolling his eyes. "Just listen, please. The other type of witches are the ones you guys usually deal with. They are non-magic people, usually females for some bizarre reason, that acquire magic powers through unsavory methods. They tend to be evil, and they have absolutely nothing to do with wizards, and we have nothing to do with them. I'm sure you know exactly what they are like, so I don't have to go into detail. But I would just like to point out that normal wizards and witches are not evil. There is no reason to kill me. I'm a Hunter, just like you are."

"So, there are your witches and wizards and there are OUR witches, and yours are good and ours are evil?" Dean summed up.

"Yes," Harry replied, "well, not quite. Wizard society, just like the rest of the world, has a wide-range of characters. Just as you get serial-killers and evil people in the non-magic world, so too in the wizarding world. An Auror hunts dark wizards. Basically, they are the law enforcement. If a wizard or witch goes dark, it's my job to hunt them down and stop them, one way or another, but preferably by taking them to court and sentencing them to prison time and whatnot."

"Huh.." Dean and Sam both said in thought. Sam continued, "That explains why you've got those guys outside under your command. Usually Hunters work alone, but you've had Phil calling you Sir all night, and you remind me of my Dad when you bark orders at him."

Dean was staring open mouthed at Sam, and Harry sighed, he had a feeling this information was not going to help him.

"He's got men outside? How many?" Dean asked.

"He's set up a perimeter, " Sam replied.

"Ten, eleven if you count Phil," Harry answered the second part of the question. "But they're just trainees, except for Phil. I like to use young people, it feels less strange to boss them around."

"So we're surrounded...by young trainee wizards?" Dean repeated back slowly.

"Well, yes," Harry replied, "but they are facing out, not in." At Dean's puzzled look, Harry continued, "They're keeping the Dementors away, they aren't keeping you in. They don't even know who I'm in here with. For all they know, you are just two random Muggles, and I'm just taking a hell of a long time to erase your memories. I tell them to secure the area, they do it. I tell them that who I'm with is none of their business, they don't ask. It's why I use trainees. They're so eager to work with me, that the last thing they'll do is question my authority. And that's a good thing for both me and you. Because it makes my job a heck of a lot easier, and it avoids any of the hirer-ups finding out that I've come into contact with the Winchesters and haven't brought you in for questioning."

"Questioning?" Dean asked. "Are we in trouble for something?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Harry said. "Hell, I don't know the first thing about you other than what I've learned tonight. I'm from Britain, in case you haven't noticed. But when Sam said his name earlier, Phil - he's my second in command - had a reaction that seemed to indicate that you were of interest to the Ministry. Usually, the Ministry leaves Hunters alone - you fellows hunt the evils that effect Muggles, while the Aurors hunt the evils that effect wizards. It works out perfectly. The fact that Phil even recognized your names means that you've been catching eyes somehow. Yet, he said that we'd never had a problem with you, which means that you haven't accidentally killed a proper witch or wizard. So, quite honestly, I don't know why they would want to see you."

"But you aren't telling them that you've found us..." Sam said.

"No," Harry replied, brushing a hand through his hair. "I know, technically I'm part of it, but the Ministry is still a government, and government has a tendency to completely miss the point while it gets caught up in politics and the delusion that they somehow are the solution to everything. Whatever you two are caught up in, they'd only get in your way." Harry glanced at Sam, unsure of whether he should continue.

"There's something else," Dean stated, "about Sam...you're worried because he can see those things."

Harry wondered if Dean could read minds, but realized that he could probably just read people.

"Yes, you're right," Harry admitted. "Sam's a Muggle, he shouldn't be able to see the Dementors. If I turned you into the Ministry and they found out, they'd want to do tests. They'd want to find out why." Harry watched as both Sam and Dean tensed. "Which is why I don't plan on letting anyone know, Phil already does, but he'll do as I say. You're lucky in that regard - that I was the one who found you today. These days only my wife, best mates, and the Minister himself ever question my orders. I didn't ask for it and I try not to abuse it, but for circumstances like this, that kind of influence is quite handy."

Harry watched as Dean and Sam soaked up the information. He wanted desperately to satisfy his own curiosity when it came to Sam, but knew that trying to pry out secrets was not the best way to put people at ease, and right now, alone and wandless in front of two formidable Hunters, Harry very much wanted to keep them at ease.

"Will they get suspicious?" Dean asked. "With you being in here so long without explanation?"

"I'll go out in a moment and give them some line," Harry mulled over possibilities. "I guess we'll have to stay here for the night. I'll tell them I was just making sure the muggles were alright, and then I was securing the building."

"Why don't you just ship off?" Dean asked.

"Dean..." Sam said in an undertone that Harry took as chastisement for being rude. Dean was doing his best to give Harry an intimidating glare, obviously upset over the possibility of Sam's secret being revealed. Harry sighed and chose to look at the box of chocolate cake while he answered. He may not know very much about the Winchesters, but he knew how he would feel if someone told him that he couldn't look after himself, and he didn't want to see it play out in Dean's familiar green eyes.

"If we leave, the barrier you are currently enjoying leaves with us," Harry evenly toned. "There would be nothing holding the Dementors back."

Harry didn't have to be looking at Dean to see him tense. Sam didn't move. Harry realized that Sam had already known, that he hadn't been chastising his brother for being rude, he had been trying to tell him that Harry and his team were the only reason he was remaining conscious.

A few tense seconds passed, before Dean spoke up again.

"We've got salt. We've got ways of protecting ourselves. How wide does the barrier have to be?" Dean asked, the edge gone from his voice. Harry just shook his head.

"There's only one thing that wards off Dementors, and you don't have it," Harry replied.

Chapter 4

Tags: crossover, demented'verse, fic, harry potter, season 4

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  • One Scene Each Season: S6 - Sam and Dean Act

    Hello! Sorry this one is a little late - I had to fly across the country today. Just as I was enjoying the fact that, for once, BC wasn't literally…

  • Ficlet: Wringer Washer

    MONTHS ago, I solicited prompts, because I was going to spend Canadian Thankgiving writing... but then I only actually wrote two of the prompts. So,…

  • Rewrite: Season 12

    Do you ever wonder what a Season 12 might look like if the BMoL made (more) sense and Crowley wasn't suddenly an idiot? Well, so did I, so I…