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

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Fic: Damned Demented Demons 5/32 SPN/HP

Title: Damned Demented Demons 5/32
Author: ME!
Fandoms: Supernatural/Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13 (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 8.5 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 5:
Ok ok...I really should have just posted this as part of Chapter 4. It's plotless and short. My apologies. I assure you the next chapter is longer and much more interesting. I'm hoping to have it up by Thursday evening...so, not long to wait.

Summary: In which there is some concern about sleeping arrangements...and nothing much happens.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

After Harry left the room, Dean waited the customary half-minute before turning to Sam and speaking in a rushed low voice.

"What the hell, Sam?!"

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked at the same time.

A pause. Sam's brow furrowed slightly. Dean's glare softened.

"Dean-" Sam began in a voice that Dean could recognize anywhere. He had gotten used to it in the year before he went to Hell, though that was a life-time ago now. It was Sam's 'I'm only trying to help' voice.

"I'm fine, Sam," Dean interrupted him. "Now do you mind filling me in on what I missed?" In response, Sam stood and retrieved his journal from the table, tossing it to Dean.

"That's as much as I learned about the Dementors before you woke up," Sam replied. "It isn't much. In terms of Harry himself, I know as much as you do. Out of Harry's men, I've only seen Harry and Phil. Whatever their perimeter is, it's not visible between here and the vending machine. I didn't see anyone, but I also didn't see any Dementors, so whatever they are doing is keeping them back."

Dean nodded, looking over Sam's efficient handwriting. "Possibly controlled by a dark wizard?" he read aloud. "Man, as if things aren't complicated enough..." Dean let the thought hang, listened to Sam's small huff of breath that signaled his agreement, and then went in for the important information. "But you did see them, didn't you?"

A pause again, and Dean looked up. Sam was busy stacking the dirty paper plates on the table with far too much concentration.

"Yeah," Sam all but whispered, "I saw them. Just barely...it was like my eyes kept wanting to look away though." Dean knew that there was no reason for him to ask any more, Sam would either tell him everything or keep it all to himself, and either way Sam's mind had already been made up as to which one it would be. Sam deposited the plates in the trash and muttered "I should've kept my mouth shut about it."

Dean sighed, yeah, Sam should have kept his mouth shut about it. Dean had the sinking suspicion though, that the lines between what Sam knew he was and wasn't supposed to be able to do were getting more and more blurred. Now wasn't the time for that discussion though.

"If Harry's telling the truth, then we don't need to worry too much about that. He won't let on," Dean replied. "So, I think what we have to worry about is whether or not we can really trust Harry." Sam seemed to relax, so Dean continued, "I say we give him the Holy Water test for good measure." Sam rolled his eyes, and Dean's only thought was 'some things never change'.

"Dean! Really, you're as bad as Bobby"

"And Bobby's still alive!" Dean responded.

Sam scoffed, but leveled a glance at Harry's half-empty can of coke. "Yeah, alright."

While Sam spiked Harry's drink, Dean laid some salt lines for good measure. He was considering drawing a devil's trap on the ceiling by the door, when Sam suddenly spoke up behind him.

"Does this mean we have to share a bed?"

Dean groaned. He didn't need to imagine the accidental kicking that would occur if both him and Sam attempted to share one double bed.

"Goddamn wizard can sleep on the floor. There is no way in hell I'm sharing with you, Sasquatch."

Dean turned in time to see Sam's smile, which seemed to have the same effect as the chocolate cake did earlier. He knew Sam was about to call him jerk, but it was cut off by a soft knock on the door.

A look passed between them, Sam moved next to the open duffle by his bed. Dean looked through the peephole and then relaxed, casually opening the door.

"Hey, sorry, didn't bring the key with me when I left," Harry said, then looked to the ground. "Is that salt? I've got wards you know, I mean, it's a little unnecessary..." Dean leveled his best glare and waited for Harry to lift his head up again to meet it. He didn't have to wait long, "...but of course, can't be too careful! Good thinking. Salt."

Harry visibly swallowed, and Dean couldn't help but smirk. He could practically hear Sam roll his eyes at him from across the room, but he chose to ignore it.

"Your guys outside alright?" Dean asked, letting Harry off the hook for the salt comment.

"Yeah, I fed them the story I told Phil. You guys are old friends of mine. Dirk and Sal Windermere. You're Muggles who know about the wizarding world because you foolishly chose to visit Britain during the winter of 1996/97. So, yeah...that's the story."

"What's so special about 1996/97?" Sam asked. Dean watched as Harry grimaced.

"Dark days of the Second Wizard War. We were losing. I spent that winter hiding in forests with my two best mates trying not to starve to death. No one knows exactly where I was at any given time, so no one knows who I met or didn't meet either."

"How old..." Sam started.

"I was seventeen," Harry answered. "In order to have met me, well, you can take your pick of either a story in which you guys are tortured for fun by Death Eaters and I saved you - that one paints me in the heroic light, but might bring too much attention to you if the wizard press gets wind of it... or we could say that I showed up at the cottage your family was renting and you took pity on me and took me in for a few days - but really, it's best not to offer a story unless we absolutely have to. I'm hoping we can solve this without involving anyone else."

Dean nodded, and tried not to watch too intently as Harry picked up his coke and took a long drink. He glanced at Sam, who already had his 'I told you so' expression on. He shrugged - they really were better safe then sorry.

"So!" Dean said, changing the subject, "I don't know why you insist on sleeping in here with us, but I'll have you know that you are sleeping on the floor, because I am not, under any circumstances, spending the night getting kicked in the shins by my giant little brother."

Harry laughed. "Throw me a pillow," he said. Dean grabbed the extra off his bed and tossed it to him. Harry caught it with one hand, and drew his wand with the other. Then in a flurry of movement and vaguely latin-sounding words, Dean watched open mouthed as the pillow stretched and grew until it had completely transformed into a single cot that Harry squeezed into the small space between Dean's bed and the door.

There was a long moment of stunned silence, Dean tried to think of something snarky to say to wipe the shit-eating grin off Harry's face, when Sam spoke up in a surprisingly timid voice.

"Can you um...make..." Sam gestured weakly towards his own bed, and for a moment Dean was as confused as Harry looked, then it hit him.

"Oh," Dean said, and looked back at Harry who was still trying to put together what Sam was asking. Dean wasn't sure he liked the idea of Sam sleeping on a magic bed, but before he could put that thought into words that didn't sound ridiculous, Harry finally clued in.

"Make your bed bigger?" Harry asked. Sam's response was to bite his lower lip and look down. Dean smiled. Sam had been doing that since he was five. It was his 'I know I shoudn't ask for too much' face.

"He usually sleeps diagonal," Dean stated. "He just needs another foot."

Harry nodded and magicked Sam's bed, which expanded immediately.

"Thanks!" Sam said, and for a brief moment Dean saw Sam smile in a way that he hadn't seen since - well, it seemed like a life-time.

Slowly they all turned in for the night. Dean knew that he wouldn't be getting much sleep with a stranger in the room. He shared a look with Sam, while Harry was in the bathroom, and it was agreed that they'd sleep in shifts. It's not like Dean was sleeping too long these days anyway.

Plus he would probably spend the whole night awake wondering how they were supposed to stop the apocalypse when they were leashed to a wizard.

Chapter 6

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