Fandoms: Supernatural/Harry Potter
Rating: PG-13 (for swearing)
Warnings: Spoilers for all Harry Potter books, Spoilers up to 4x17 for Supernatural.
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean belong to Kripke, Harry Potter belongs to Rowling.
A/N: I thought that the Battle of Hogwarts took place in Spring 1997...so that's what I based my timeline on. Since then I've seen that most sources have it in 1998. Ah well. In this story it's 1997.
A/N to chap 9: PLEASE NOTE THE CHANGE TO THE SPOILER WARNINGS.
Summary: In which Harry explains himself somewhat and then has a slightly enlightening chat with Dean.
Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
"Want to fill Sam and me in on what the hell is going on?" Dean asked, voice low and threatening. He heard Sam shift on his feet beside him, and watched as Phil paled a little. Harry, on the other hand, seemed strangely thrilled, and Dean wasn't sure whether that put him at ease or made him more nervous. Whatever was going on, it scared the hell out of Phil but made Harry look like a kid who had just been given a trip to Disneyland.
"I've found a way to protect you two!" Harry said enthusiastically, grabbing the papers from in front of Phil and handing them over to Dean. Dean squinted at the mess of foreign writing, and passed it to Sam when he realized that there would be no hope of being able to understand it.
"In English, Harry," Dean said. "We don't speak whatever the hell that is."
"I think some of it's Latin..." Sam mumbled beside him, and Dean rolled his eyes.
"It's a protection spell that will work against Dementors," Harry continued. "Because, well, it's kind of a combination of spells really...but I'm sure it'll work. I don't see why it wouldn't work. It all makes sense on paper at least."
"Wait wait..." Dean tried to wrap his head around what Harry was implying. "Are you saying...is this something you've just invented?"
"It'll work," Phil interjected, before Harry could defend himself. "Believe me. I really wish it wouldn't, but it will." Phil ran a hand through greying hair, and sighed deeply. Dean raised a eyebrow, wondering why Phil didn't want them to be protected.
"What Phil means," Harry started to explain, as if reading Dean's mind, "is that this isn't going to be as easy as it looks."
"This is easy?" Sam said from beside him, gesturing to the scribbled equations. "This doesn't even make sense."
"Well, maybe not to you," Harry sighed, snatching the paper back from Sam, as though he were insulted by Sam's inability to understand what was written. "But it makes perfect sense to me, and...well, it's actually quite impressive. I can't believe no one has thought of this before...I feel like calling Hermione."
"Ok, whatever," Dean said. "We all know your brilliant and 'the Chosen One' or whatever. Now would you mind telling us about the smuggling us into places part of the plan. Because I think that's what's got Phil's panties in a twist, and I'm not sure I like the sound of it either."
Dean watched in annoyance as Harry's jaw dropped open a bit and he stared at Dean as if he had just sprouted a second head.
"Dude," Dean finally said. "You left Sam in a room with a shitload of books about Wizards, what did you think was going to happen?" Dean felt Sam shift beside him and rolled his eyes at the fact that Sam would even think of being embarrassed about having read up on the guy. "Blah blah...'the Chosen one' ..blah blah blah...defeated Lord Voldymoron."
Harry snorted a laugh, but kept his expression pretty indiscernible.
"Now," Dean finished, "would you mind filling us in on what is happening right now, Mr. Chosen One."
"Dean..." Sam said from besides him in a tone that translated his name to 'be aware of your surroundings.' Sure enough, Phil had the oddest expression on his face. As though he wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh, if he should be angry, or if he was afraid that Harry was about to kill them. Dean had just started to wonder if he had crossed a line somewhere, when Harry started laughing.
"Just..." Harry said, smiling, "just promise not to call me that again. It's not true any more anyway. I'm no more 'the Chosen one' than you or Sam are."
Dean swallowed, and plastered on a look of indifference.
"Just tell us what's going on...you're killing me here."
"Ok," Harry said, slipping back into a professional tone. "I've worked out this protective spell - it's part transfiguration, part charm-work, part defense against the dark arts. Anyway, the point is that it will work. It will essentially give you and Sam your own Patronus."
"But you said only wizards..." Sam started in a suspicious tone.
"That's where it gets tricky," Harry answered, picking up a large black book from the table and flipping it open. "At the Ministry - in the Department of Mysteries, to be exact - there's a room. It's specifically built to harness latent magic. The design is celtic in origin, utilizing the celestrial bodies and the amplification qualities of certain stones...anyway, basically what it does is strengthen magic to an amazing degree. It can even, under the right circumstances, grant momentary power to those who cannot normally harness it."
"Wait," Dean said, comprehension making his skin crawl, "are you saying you can make us magic?"
"No, not quite," Harry said, "but if I'm in there with you, I can use it to harness what I need from you in order to create a Patronus specific to YOU...and once I do that, I can use it to transfigure those Patronuses into a protective charm that will basically make that protection permanent - or as close to permanent as I can manage."
Harry handed Dean and Sam the open book. Holding it between them, in order to allow either one of them to take it as they wished. Years of habit caused Dean to only reach out with one hand and hold onto one side of the book, knowing that Sam would grab the other. They pulled it between them and looked down at the diagram on the page. A room mapped out in black ink, lined with engravings and crystal structures, lay mapped out in 3D. The diagram rotated slowly, moving just like Harry's family photo had earlier. It showed a moon and a sun alternately rising above it, beams of light shining through a slit in the ceiling, filling the room with light and then fading.
Dean only understood some of the runes around it. The Celtic writing made him think of Pastor Jim - the way he etched runes in the wall next to his weapon stash. There was a time when Dean was six, when he and Sam had stayed with Pastor Jim for a while, and he remembers having the runes explained to him - how some were hidden in the illuminated scripture of the old books, and Dean had often wondered if they told some secret gospel alongside the accepted one.
Dean passed the book fully to Sam, and turned his attention back to Harry. He already knew that so much could go wrong in that room. He already knew that he didn't like the idea of trusting Harry that much, even if he had yet to do anything but try to help them. He also knew that they didn't really have a choice.
"So, I take it that for some reason we can't just waltz in there and tell them we need to borrow their magic room?" Dean said to Harry.
"No," Harry sighed.
"Harry..." Phil said, drawing everyone's attention back to where he sat, looking grim, "Sir, we could if we, you know, just bought them in..."
"No," Harry cut him off. "Please, Phil...I have a feeling about this - like I said earlier, that would bring a world of trouble down on us."
"Sir, with all due respect, this isn't your country..." Phil started.
"Phil!" Harry said in threatening tone, "if you are about to suggest that I'm acting in anyway cavalier to the security and safety of the American Wizarding population, then maybe we should have this discussion outside."
Dean kept his hands seemingly casual by his sides, but held himself at the ready for action as the tension built in the room. He didn't need to look at Sam to know that Sam had shifted the weight of the book onto his left hand, and dropped his right towards the waistband of his jeans.
"Harry.." Phil answered quietly. "If I go down for this...I'll lose my job, hell, they'll probably send me to prison. You'll have to do better than a feeling"
"What happened the last time the Dementors moved like this, Phil?" Harry replied, his voice calm.
"Voldemort returned, seized control of the Ministry, hundreds of people died..." Phil said with a sigh.
"Well, I had a feeling then too, and no one listened to me."
"Fuck," Phil said, causing Dean's eyebrows to shoot up. "Fucking hell. Damn it. Shit." Surprisingly, when Dean looked at Harry he was smiling.
"Good to have you on board, Phil," Harry said, and focused his attention back on the two Winchesters. "So, as Phil indicated, the hard part will be getting you into the Ministry without anyone realizing who you are...otherwise Phil and I lose our jobs for not contacting the Ministry as soon as we came into contact with you."
"Do you even know why they want us?" Sam asked.
"No," Harry answered, "I wish I did. If it were something innocuous, then it would make things a whole lot easier, because then we could just stroll in to the Department of Mysteries. Unfortunately, I have a pretty good hunch that it's more serious than that, like I said - the last time the Dementors moved like this - well, that was the mess I was tangled up in, and the Ministry only ever managed to make it worse. This time the Dementors seem interested in you two, so whatever your involved with - whatever is going on with this demon - I can't decide what the best course of action is until I learn more, so right now it's better to be safe than sorry. Involving as few people as possible is safer than involving the Ministry."
"So how are we going to pull this off then?" Dean asked. "I take it that Sam and I can't just walk up with fake FBI badges like usual."
"No," Harry replied. "Phil and I will come up with a plan, we're the ones that know the ins and outs of the Ministry. You two keep working on the Dementor-Demon research."
"It better be a freakin' good plan, Harry," Dean warned.
"Trust me, I don't want Phil to lose his job anymore than he does," Harry replied.
The two teams broke off to hash out their own plans. Dean made a few more requests for books, which had Phil disappearing and reappearing a few times during the night, but for the most part they were stuck in the hotel room. Dean and Sam sat on Sam's bed and passed books and the laptop back and forth reading up on every Dementor incident in the past hundred years or so, while Harry and Phil sat hunched over the table speaking in muffled voices. Dean was pretty sure that they were unnaturally muffled voices. He would rather be able to hear what they were saying, given that it was his and Sam's lives that they were playing with. He sent a few angry glares Harry's way, but Harry only looked up at him once, and his reaction was to cringe and then shrug a small apology. That's when Dean realized that it was Phil who had chosen to exclude them from the conversation.
Finally, as they approached midnight. Harry and Phil's voices became unmuffled, and Phil raised a hand in goodnight to Dean and Sam before he turned and disappeared.
"I think we've got something worked out now," Harry announced. "Phil's checking up on a few things and will report back sometime tomorrow. In the meantime, I think we should get as much sleep as possible tonight, tomorrow is going to be a long day."
Sam nodded beside him and started removing the books that were spread out all over his extra-long bed. Suddenly, Dean realized that he was missing the answer to a very important question.
"Harry," Dean started slowly, "where IS the Ministry?"
Harry smiled, "Boston. But don't worry, you can leave your car here."
Sam looked at Dean with wide concerned eyes and Harry's smile faltered.
"Did I say something wrong?" Harry asked.
It took almost another hour to calm Dean down and reassure him that quicker travel was for the best. Once Harry realized that Dean was mainly just afraid of flying, he was able to reassure him much more quickly. They were eventually all able to get to sleep. Phil had instructions to let them sleep in, which they did, or at least, Sam and Harry did. When Harry woke up in the morning, Sam was still asleep, but Dean was sitting up in bed reading the wizard books.
"Morning," Harry muttered, rummaging in the pile of robes beside his bed in search of his glasses.
"Morning," the blurry form of Dean whispered back. Harry slipped his glasses on and made his way to the bathroom to change and freshen up. He took a look at Dean on his way by, and guessed that Dean had at least gotten a few hours sleep.
When he came out of the bathroom, Sam was just beginning to wake up.
"Do you want me to send one of the boys for breakfast?" Harry asked. Sam grunted something and then burrowed back under the covers. Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at Dean, who was rolling his eyes.
"Nah, man, I'll go get it," Dean said. "I was going to go earlier, but your magic pillow bed was blocking the door."
"Oh, sorry," Harry replied, picking up his wand and transfiguring the bed back into a pillow.
"Hey, why don't you come with me?" Dean said. "We'll leave Sammy to get his beauty sleep."
A grunt from Sam's bed indicated that Sam wasn't really sleeping, but Dean just laughed, and looked at Harry for his answer.
"Ah, sure..." Harry said, knowing that really wasn't the reason Dean wanted him to come. Harry tried to figure out the real reason, wondering if maybe Dean was worried about running into Dementors without Harry around, but that really didn't fit in well with what Harry knew of Dean's personality.
"Great, let's go," Dean replied, as he opened the bedside table drawer and slipped a silver gun into his pocket. Harry only worried for a second that Dean was planning on taking him out back and shooting him, before he remembered the car ride the day before and how Dean had had plenty of opportunity to kill him then if that were his goal.
Once they were outside on their way to the diner, Dean launched into his real motivation without even trying to hide it.
"What does it mean that Sam can see those things?" Dean asked, his tone even and casual.
"I don't know," Harry responded honestly. "I was kind of hoping you could tell me."
Dean grunted out a noncommittal response. So Harry continued,
"Judging from your reaction to the fact that he could see something, I'm guessing this isn't the first time something like this has happened with Sam. So, really, you know more about this than I do."
"Do you think it's why your Ministry wants to see us?" Dean asked, as though Harry hadn't spoken.
"Again, I don't know," Harry replied. "Possibly, I suppose." Harry took a breath and decided he might as well lay out the cards he had and see if they exploded in his face or not. "Did something happen with Sam after you died?"
There was a long moment while Harry waited for Dean's answer. Finally, Dean spoke up beside him, but it wasn't the answer that Harry was hoping for.
"Why do you ask?"
Now it was Harry's turn to pause.
"The report on you guys, it seems to have been started in the summer. It's like they didn't care about you more than any of the other Hunters until then. They just don't say why."
"Sam was going after demons in the summer," Dean answered. "I think he would have mentioned if he had killed any wizards."
"No, it's not..." Harry wasn't sure how to say it, telling Dean that the Department of Mysteries was interested would just cause pointless worry - not to mention he would have to explain what the Department of Mysteries did, which he wasn't even sure he could do. "It's not the standard report for a Hunter that's killed a wizard. For one, it's a report on both of you, not just Sam - only you were...dead. I just don't understand what Sam could have done that would bring attention to BOTH of you when you weren't even alive at the time."
"Anyway... " Harry continued, as they paused to let a car pass by before crossing over to the diner. "If they want you two because of Sam, it's because of something he did in the summer. The researchers dated all their reports at the end of August."
Harry was halfway across the road before he realized that Dean was no longer in step beside him. He turned to see Dean staring at him with a look on his face that had Harry scanning the streets for Dementors. When he didn't see any, he looked back at Dean, but Dean had already schooled his expression.
"It's not Sam," Dean said gruffly, as he walked towards and then past Harry.
"What?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.
"They didn't start the report because of Sam," Dean repeated briskly, and then opened the door to the diner. "I think I'm going to have pancakes."
And that, Harry knew, signaled the end of the conversation. But Dean had already said enough, because if the report wasn't started because of something Sam did, then that only left one other person responsible and that person was currently leering at the waitress while he ordered pancakes. What Harry didn't understand was what Dean could have possibly done in Hell that would matter to anyone on earth.