Fifth Meet

Hermione was on a vacation of sorts. This time she was smart about it and just stayed at home. Flourish and Botts had called to her every day she didn't work. Hermione finally gave in and came down to Diagon Alley.

Harry had granted the time off after that miserable last assignment. Nothing could be done for her...her wand. It was an even more bitter potion to swallow than the Skele-Gro she had to take to repair the extensive damage the bullet did.

The whole experience had shaken her up. Maybe it was time to let the younger Aurors take over. Neville had become a Professor, Harry was Head Auror and handled very few field assignments, even Ron moved on. She was the only one still pushing on and on with some misguided notion that she couldn't pass on the baton.

When she saw what Dean had done, her eyes grew huge and both hands flew up to her mouth to muffle the cry. Her first wand, the one she bought at Ollivander's when she was eleven!

"Now stand up with your hands up, or you'll be breathing outta a new hole." He jerked the gun up for just a second for emphasis.

Hermione stood up slowly, both hands raised. She wasn't sure to scream or cry. But she held off either, eyes flickering between the two men.

Dean held her eye as he pulled a phone out of his pocket. He hit dial without looking and listened. "Shit, he's not answering. Great timing." He cleared his throat. "Hey Bobby, I need you to-"

Channeling her hardest, she flicked her fingers at both items. The phone, but not the gun, flew out of his fingers. Before she could try again, a bright flash of the muzzle flared before her eyes. She'd swear later she didn't even hear it go off. All she knew next was lying on the ground, her entire shoulder throbbing as if a giant punched it and her ears were ringing.

Tamping down a scream as broken glass shifted under her skin, she looked up into the faces that came into view above her.

Dean crouched beside her, the cold metal of the gun touching her temple. "Are you alone?"

Her fingers trembled as she tried to reach for other arm, but even that hurt too much. The agony made her gasp as she stared at the sky.

"Is it a whole coven? Are you brainwashing werewolves or something?" He smacked her hand down and it landed near her hip. Where her second wand was.

"Don't...burn my wand…" She whispered, gaze travelling to the broken stick. Her heart broke all over again.

Dean smirked and reached for it, angling back to reach it. His fingers groped in the grass. "The stick? Thanks for the tip, sweetheart." As his eyes travelled back for a second to locate it, her fingers closed around the other wand and lifted it just in time.

Banishing thoughts of that horrid night, she retreated to the furthest stacks of the store and found a good book on the Mahō no Roji in Japan. That's where she'd go on her next vacation and eliminate the chance of ever seeing those green eyes again.

She employed a barrier around her little alcove that muffled the sound both ways. But as she curled up, someone sat across from her in a squashy chair, presumably to read as well. As long as they didn't bother her while she was reading...

"Hello, sweetheart."

Her eyes flew up at that voice, meeting those damned clear green eyes. Her mouth opened but no sound came out, utter disbelief crowding all else out.

His mouth quirked in a crooked smile.

Her hand shot down to her side and he slid that terribly familiar gun along his thigh with finger on the trigger. "Ah ah ah. Not sure what you're reachin' for, but I'm gonna guess it's bad."

Her eyes narrowed. "Who are you today? Faulkner? McBrain? Kilmister?"

He chuckled, still wearing that lopsided, attractive smile. "I like that. Sammy! Next time you're McBrain." His lips closed though they still quirked upward. His eyes flickered to the side, humour fading. "Sam?"

Sam suddenly stepped into their alcove, holding what looked to be the store's entire section on history. "What are galleons?"

Hermione spoke up. "Oh, they're-"

"No talking." Dean interrupted rather rudely, she thought. Angling his thigh slightly up, he kept the gun pointed at her. "Now, witch, what is this place? World's largest coven? Did all you freaks make deals with demons?"

She stared at him, her lips pursed.

"Well?" He shoved the gun until it pointed just past his knee. "I swear to-"

"You told her to not talk," Sam said sheepishly, still holding onto the books. He was getting a bit red faced though.

Now Dean and her were glaring at each other. "All right, so talk."

The words burst out of her angrily. "We're not freaks. I was born this way. We all were. That doesn't make us evil."

"I don't think so. You sickos make people's teeth fall out and-"

"Can I get a little help here?" Sam sweated, looking around for a table or somewhere else to set his stack. She could see why he didn't want to put it on the floor, at that height it'd take forever. He added hastily, "Sorry to interrupt your tirade."

Dean gave him a look, muscle dancing in his jaw.

"I can help." Hermione pointed at the wand she had thoughtlessly placed on her armrest. Not that she was in the habit of getting ambushed in a bloody bookstore in Diagon Alley.

He went back to glaring at her after eyeing his sweating brother and rolled his eyes. "Fine. But…" He raised the weapon and held it point-blank at her face. "If he even looks unhappy after you pick your stick, I'll blows your brains out all over this place."

Hermione licked her lips as she gingerly picked up the wand and cast a Featherweight charm on the books. And nearly shrieked when Sam flung the books up because he had been holding the full weight a second ago.

Suddenly cold metal was jammed into the side of her face as he yelled, "FIX IT!"

Sam sat sprawled in the middle of the books, holding up his hands, "Don't shoot, Dean!"

"She's whammied you!"

Hermione just hunched further down in the chair with her hands cupping the sides of her head as if to simultaneously protect herself and to block the inevitable noise. Not that she'd be hearing anything ever again if he squeezed the trigger.

"No, look." Sam picked up a pick and threw it at Dean, but it floated lazily in the air before landing on the ground with a whisper.

Dean looked at the book and her, the book and her and then nudged it with his foot. "Huh."

"I just made the books light. I have galleons too." Instead of sarcasm, her voice came out a bit trembly. She dropped placed her wand down again and looked at him with huge eyes.

He looked back at her, still hyped up but uncertain, as if he were on the verge of rethinking some of this. She could only hope so, her hands were still trembling with the drain of adrenaline.

"Dean?" Sam asked after several long moments of silence.

"Yeah?"

"The gun."

Dean looked at the firearm he still had jammed against her skull and withdrew it slowly.

Sam spoke again calmly and warily. "I think she's telling the truth."

Dean scowled, never taking his eyes off her. "What."

"Look at all these books." Before Dean could finish making a sound of disgust and rolling his eyes, Sam continued quickly, "Look at them. They have a cooking section, knitting, even a parenting section. I saw kids outside, Dean."

A hint of unease touched his face. "Changelings aren't the only things that can look like kids."

"Right, but they're not doing anything wrong out there. Just shopping. And I've been thinking, how come any of those times things don't add up we weren't hurt? The monsters were dead too. Maybe she was helping us."

"She messed with my mind." A lot of the rancor had drained out of his voice though. His gaze skimmed over Sam and came back to her.

Hermione ventured a few words. "You're not supposed to know about witches. It's the law here."

"Oh honey, I know about witches."

"Maybe just a type of witch, Dean." Sam kneeled forward, placing his hand on the gun despite the flinch from his older brother. "Let's just talk to her like normal people, okay?"

Dean looked as if he was about to protest the normal people, in relation to her specifically, but didn't. "You better not be wrong." He set both hands on his knees without touching the gun.

And while Sam gathered up the books, flipping through the pages like he was surprised they hadn't become blank or hollow, Hermione explained that the wizarding society were kept secret from Muggles from the moment the Statute of Secrecy was created. And why it was created, witch burnings and all.

Sam listened while he flipped through the book she pointed at titled Muggles, Squibs, and Secrecy that did a decent job covering the more recent relations between magic and the Muggle world.

Dean was a fidgeter as he listened, his knee bouncing at times, tapping his thumb against his knee as if listening to music only he could hear. He didn't put away the gun entirely until she offered to buy Sam his stack of books.

His boyish face lit up and he grinned widely at his older brother. Finally Dean stood up as well and tucked the gun away.

"All of them?! Thanks! Hermione, right?"

"Yes. Are you two really Dean and Sam?"

"Winchester." Sam nodded, ignoring the exasperated huff from Dean.

She kept her word and put down a small fortune in front of the owner once the total came out.

Sam kept up a lively stream of conversation as she led them, in Dean's words, out of this crazy ass circus. He didn't seem entirely sold on the idea of harmless witches, his eyes darting everywhere cautiously. But he stopped starting every time a wand was waved about.

Sam had no such qualms, he was drinking everything in with wonder. "What's Quidditch? It has brooms in that window. Do you guys fly, really? Look, familiars! Don't you guys use toad parts in your potions? Is that a wand shop, you don't make your own? I've been seeing a lot of owls. Are they familiars too? The clothes are so different. Even the old guy witches are wearing pointed hats."

"Wizards. We call the men wizards."

"Ohh. Does everyone wear robes? Some of the witches' look like old fashioned dresses, but I didn't think the men would too. Look, his robes are frilly with gold moons all over it. Don't you have a pair of boxers like that, Dean? He frowns because it's true, Hermione."

"HOLY SHIT!" Dean grabbed at his belt as if he were going for his sidearm.

Cheeks burning, Hermione grabbed his jacket sleeve and pulled him down the cobblestone path. "They're goblins, Dean, they belong here." Unlike you. She still wasn't sure how in the world they got past the Muggle spells, but had a feeling they accomplished a lot of impossible tasks, given some of the comments Sam casually made about their experiences.

Dean threw a freaked out look over his shoulder as he let himself be dragged. "They're ugly as sin. I've seen better looking stuff in the toilet."

Hermione sucked in a deep breath and brought them around the Leaky Cauldron and stopped. "I can get you both back out without going through the tavern." Ignoring Sam's disappointed look just over the tops of his books, she continued, "You guys shouldn't be here, you know. I'm normally duty-bound to uphold the law because I'm like a bobby."

"Bobby?" Dean blinked.

"A policeman. But you two are special exemptions clearly." Sort of. They knew what witches were, but not the type of witch that cursed people and gained their powers through trickery. Would knowing about the real ones cause them to hesitate when they shouldn't?

Dean's eyes moved past her to the people milling past about three meters behind them. "I still can't believe we've never even heard of you guys. We've been doing this our whole lives." He made a considering motion. "Could come in really handy though, during hunts. You ever want to quit being a 'bobby' and become a Hunter?" His half-grin was quick and somewhat genuine. "The pay's shit, but the view's great."

She hadn't realized incorrigible might apply to Dean, but she wasn't surprised. She tapped the brick wall and stepped through the opening with them. "Those town's weren't exactly picturesque."

"I didn't mean the scenery outside." Dean winked at her.

Sam snorted from the other side of him.

Hermione smiled. Sam's comments about how certain witches in America had gotten their powers, she had to admit that was a loathsome way to go about it. There was a charming quality to Dean. Despite her broken wand. But she understood now. Plus it'd be a bit pedantic to bring up a memory he didn't have anymore.

Sam was even more reluctant to step through, he was just so eager to learn about this new world.

"Really though, knowing a good witch would be great. How fast can you travel if we need a hand?" Dean dropped the flirty smile somewhat, getting to the brass tacks of how to use magic to his advantage.

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I'll show you. I'm afraid you can't contact me by mobile though, it only works when I'm home, and barely at that."

Sam tried to balance his books against his side as he searched one pocket for his phone. He checked it and made a face, looking up at the now solid brick wall. "No service. I bet I could figure it out with research."

They shared a smile, those were her favorite words after all.

"Will both of you grab onto my arms and hold very tight?" Her nose wrinkled, what was that godawful smell? Someone must have thrown refuse in the shallow end of the alley.

Sam slipped his hand through the gap between her elbow and waist as if she were a gentleman escorting him to dinner. She smiled all the way up at him then looked at Dean. He looked her over once and grabbed the material over her forearm firmly.

She carefully brandished her wand, Dean and her staring at each other. "I don't want anything to happen to the books." She explained this time as the books shrunk in Sam's arms.

He looked at them in his palm with a huge grin before pocketing them.

"Hold tight." Hermione murmured again and they twisted and turned and squeezed into nothingness.

They held on, she'd give them that. Sam was left bent double when they landed and Dean sagged against her, both retching several times before gasping for air. "What the fuck was that?!" Dean exclaimed.

"Side-Along Apparition." She looked around the familiar settings, the little motel with no cameras in The Plain, Ohio. It reeked here too though. "I'm impressed, you know. You two are really something."

"Thanks." Dean finally was able to straighten up, blowing out a deep breath. "So, how do we get ahold of you? You're pretty kickass yourself."

Hermione twirled her wand between her fingers then held it loosely. "You can call for me, but I have to place the magic word inside you so it will work. All right?"

Dean just nodded and waited, with his pretty green eyes and crooked smile.

"Hold still," she murmured, fingers wrapping more securely around the wand as she pointed it at him.

"Obliviate."

Author's Notes:

Fin!

(The End!)

HMJ