What the hell, Harry?

***SPN/HP***

Hello, guys!

So, after months of not doing anything interesting in particular, I've somehow picked up on Supernatural, which has now become my very, very guilty pleasure. But, anyway, what is done, done, and what is more than one hundred episodes of ridiculous plot is watched, more than one time, what the hell. And since the next episode is about half a month ahead, I've decided to start another thing and I'm almost sure I will abandon some time in the future because I don't learn from my own mistakes…

Anyway, here's a Supernatural/Harry Potter crossover fanfic for you, cuz I haven't found the one that would appeal to my interests do instead I began to write one myself. It's gonna be a medium sized multi-chaptered story with the Dean/Harry line as a slash pairing, caz I really wanted to have these two characters main focus here. Warning: this story's going to be slash, so if it's not your cup of tea, you better leave now than later. I tried my best to make all the characters as in-character as possible, so I hope I wouldn't get a lot of indignant complaints on this behalf.

Also, this story takes place during sixth season of Supernatural so spoilers for every episode that has come out, including 6x16. As for Harry Potter, takes place thirteen years after the final chapter, with complete ignoring of the Epilogue. You can say, AU after the Battle of Hogwarts chapter. So in this story Harry is 31, Dean is 32. Bear with my timeline, guys :)

Anyway, have some fic now, if questions – feel free to ask in comments.

Reviews are absolutely necessary :D

Also, English is not my first language and this shit is unbeta'd, so please be gentle, guys.

***SPN/HP***

Part 1.

Wolves and what-the-fucks

They had been passing Nebraska and it was about four am, when Sam really, like really, needed to stop for his natural needs so Dean grudgingly (because, seriously, does Sam have a bladder of a five-year-old?) pulled over, and they just so happened to be driving on the road through the woods, so what harm could that be?

"I think I heard something, man," Sam said as soon as he walked out from behind a tree where he'd been relieving himself.

"Yeah, me, too." Dean said. "That was a sound of my hair turning grey while I was waiting for you, princess"

He didn't need to look at Sam to know his brother was wearing his bitch-face expression.

"Aren't you hilarious" Sam said, Bitch-face still firmly in place, "Seriously, though, Dean, I think I heard some noises deeper in the woods, like some animal, a very big one, was moving around."

"So what? A bear or a deer or no-one-cares what else. What's the big news?"

"Dean," Sam said in a voice that meant fucking business. "I know what I'm talking about, there must be so –"

And then Dean heard it, too.

And it had suddenly been very close. Like, too close, just behind Sam's back –

"Sam!" He yelled, but it was too late, an animal the size of a small bear had brought him down and though Dean hadn't caught more than a glimpse of this thing, he knew for sure it was a werewolf.

He was been lucky he'd been standing by the car, so he quickly opened the trunk door and grabbed the silver bullets. He didn't have time to load his gun, though, as the werewolf threw him on the down and pinned him to the ground, its sharp teeth bared, growling loudly. The hideous smell from its mouth hit Dean's nostrils and he coughed.

The werewolf didn't have time to bite him, though, as it was hit on the head with a large bough by Sam, who'd gotten from the ground. It wasn't enough to kill the beast or even stop, but it was enough for Dean to grab and load his gun and point it at the monster.

Seconds before he pulled the trigger, a voice, somewhere from his right, shouted:

"Expeliarmus!"

And the gun suddenly shot out of Dean's hand as if some invisible power threw it out. He turned around sharply and saw two men standing in the middle of the road, their hands outstretched, pointing something at him and Sam, something like sticks.

One of the men pointed the stick at the werewolf and said 'Stupefy', and the beast fell on the ground immediately, unmoving and looking dead.

Then he caught movement with a corner of his eye and saw Sam draw out his gun quickly, moving on reflexes he had so wonderfully developed, and point it at the werewolf. Before he could fire, though, his gun, much like Dean's own, flew out of his hand.

"Don't shoot, he's not dangerous anymore!" One of the men said and they both lowered their sticks. He spoke with a very distinct British accent "I immobilized him, he can't move"

Dean just stared at them, too shocked to actually come out with something.

"I will now give you your guns back, but you've got to promise not to soot, okay?" The same man said and only then did Dean notice that both his and Sam's guns were in the man's hands.

His ability to speak suddenly returned to him.

"Who the fuck are you?" He demanded, not too politely, but now was not the time for it. Those two must be demons or possibly even something worse, and how did they manage to disarm them like that? They must be something pretty dark.

Quickly, he counted the steps he had to take to get to the trunk where more guns were and the salt and maybe they were not so screwed yet –

He heard the trunk door snap shit suddenly and there was the sound of locking. He turned back and saw another guy holding his stick pointed at the Impala. He swallowed, angry at their helplessness, unable to do anything.

"Hey, we're absolutely calm, guys, really, you can give us back our guns, seriously" He heard Sam say and looked at him. Sam stood to his left, his left arm bleeding and there was a thin trickle of dried blood going down his cheek. His brother, though, ever the diplomat, did look absolutely calm, his hands sprayed in front of him in sign of defenselessness.

Dean grit his jaw. Whatever Sam was trying to achieve, he hoped it would work.

"I don't really think it's a good idea to give them back these god-awful shooting things, Harry" The guy without their guns said. "I'm sure they will try to shoot us"

He looked closer at the men. One of them was really tall, probably Sam's level tall, and redheaded, with his hair a kind of fiery red Dean had never seen before. The other one, obviously called Harry, was probably few inches shorter than Dean, had black hair and kind of ridiculous round glasses. Both of them looked about thirty.

"Well, I wouldn't really blame them, Ron" Harry said, shooting him and Sam apologetic smile. Dean glared at him, angry at himself, these men, this fucking screwed situation they had managed to get themselves into, at Sam, because, really, the man twenty-eight – it was high time he learnt not to drink too much while on the fucking road!

"Who the fuck are you?" Dean repeated, this time loudly and boldly, using his commanding tone he usually addressed Sam with. The tall redhead – Ron – quirked an eyebrow at him, obviously not impressed at the slightest.

"I really wouldn't use this tone if I were in your shoes, mate" He said, his lips stretching in a sly smirk. He flipped his stick rather pointedly and Dean didn't need to be a Stanford graduate to realize that these sticks were the source of the men's power. "You don't usually want to piss off the guys your life depends on"

"Ron!" Harry railed at him, scandalized, then turned back to look at him and Sam. Then he cautiously took a step closer. "Look, guys, we don't want any problems with you, so I'll give you your guns back if you promise to keep cool, alright?"

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. This was the best option so far – at least they would have their guns back and Dean really, really, needed to feel a bit more in control of the situation. Standing there, absolutely defenseless in front of these men who obviously had a huge disadvantage over them were rather unnerving.

Sam nodded readily, his innocent-puppy-eyed look firmly on his face. It was almost physically impossible for Dean not to roll his eyes at him, but he managed. They needed to concentrate on getting themselves out of this mess, no matter how sincere that Harry-person looked.

The other one, Ron, didn't, though. He also took a step back and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, the other hand clutching his stick.

"Harry, mate, you know the rules, right? We have to oblivate these Muggles, you know that"

"I know, Ron, but –"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a sec!" Dean snapped, sick of not getting what the hell was going on around him. "Speak English, please, what the hell do you wanna do to us? And, in case you've forgotten, there's an unconscious werewolf lying right fucking next to me that needs to be fucking killed –"

"You touch him and I'll end you," The redhead hissed, glaring a hole in Dean and he suddenly looked much more intimidating than a minute before, waves of rage and danger radiating from him and Dean involuntary broke the gaze.

"Ron," Harry said again, sounding drained, "Please, look at it from their point of view. Just try to understand, please. They are just Muggles and they deserve an explanation. And I don't even mention the fact that Teddy has nearly bitten them or worse – killed them, and thank god they were lucky enough to be able to defend themselves, so I'd like it if you showed some compassion, huh?"

"An explanation, Harry, really?" Ron said as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So what now, are you gonna sit with them and tell everything about us and give them a lecture about magical creatures and what's right and wrong and maybe hold their hands then, while all your words are sinking in, huh? They almost killed Teddy, Harry!"

"Well, he did attack them first, Ron!"

"Still, they have no bloody right –"

"Ron!" Harry cut him off and this time he sounded loud and clear and Dean though he could feel the hair on his arms standing with goose bumps at the sheer power that was coming in waves from the shorter man. He suddenly looked much older than just before; his jaw tightened firmly, hands twisted in fists. He was staring at Ron through his glasses, his gaze not wavering for a second, and Ron swallowed and looked away, defeated.

"Fine" He mumbled, his hand with a stick lowering, though he still managed to shoot Dean and Sam dirty looks behind Harry's back. Judging by the way Harry rolled his eyes and made a Sam-worthy bitch-face, he noticed it just fine.

"So," He began suddenly hesitant and unsure. It was such a radical change of mood for a man who looked about as confident and powerful as fucking Lucifer himself one minute and didn't know how to begin a second the next, and Dean frowned at him. "We shall probably begin with names. My name is Harry Potter and the grumpy guy back there is Ron Weasley."

Ron grunted in acknowledgment from behind him, and Harry paused, apparently waiting for them to say their own names, but they kept silent. Harry sighed wearily, and then continued.

"This werewolf you've nearly killed is actually a little boy, his name is Teddy and he's thirteen. He has parents and goes to school, basically, lives a normal life just like any other kid his age. The only difference being that his father was a werewolf and apparently it can be passed on to your children, so Teddy has pretty much been infected the moment he was conceived." Harry paused to take a deep breath. "Once a month before he turns he drinks a potion that allows him not to lose his human mind during his turns and therefore he is in complete control of his body, he just locks himself in a room and sits there quietly until the full moon passes, so he can't hurt anyone accidentally."

"Then…" Sam spoke up, now sounding both confused and curious. "How did he end up here, nearly ripping me and Dean to pieces?"

Harry's expression turned into a grimace. He sighed wearily, putting off his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"We… we had a fight. A huge one, apparently, and we don't normally have any fights but that… was a sore subject for both of us. And he… ran off, all in tears, forgot to take his potion, and he must have apparated because he was all emotional and his uncontrollable magic must have kicked in… I have no idea how he managed to get himself in America, across the ocean, without splinching himself, but he's being tracked, he's out of school now, and he's a werewolf so they keep a special eye on him –"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Dean cut him off, stopping the flood of babbling, as soon as his words sunk in. Uncontrollable magic? Appar-whatever? "Are you saying you are a witch?"

There was a moment of silence and then Ron promptly cracked up. Harry also chuckled quietly, as if Dean said something exceptionally stupid and hilarious. Dean scowled at them.

"Oh, Merlin, I love Muggles" Ron said, grinning widely. "I don't think anybody has ever called me a witch before!"

"Me neither" Harry said, his small tired smiled still on his face. "No, we are not witches, guys, those are females you're talking about. We are wizards"

"So I assume those are wands?" Sam immediately said, eyeing the sticks in the men's hands tentatively.

Harry nodded. "Yes, but don't be afraid I won't do anything to you if you don't try to kill us, either. I won't try to assault you"

"Yet" Ron added quietly behind Harry's shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes again.

"Hey, don't listen to him, he doesn't know what it's like to be a Muggle. I do, though"

He spoke sincerely and plainly and Dean couldn't find it in himself not to believe him, against his better judgment. The guy just had something in him, some power or whatever that had people around him, people who barely knew him, automatically like him.

Dean shook his head. Those kinds of thoughts were never good. As a rule they led to him or Sam (or both) being held hostages or nearly killed.

"So, I'm now giving you your guns back, ok?" Harry said, before approaching them and handing first Sam then Dean their guns. With a familiar pleasant weight back in his hand, Dean immediately felt better, safe and reassured. Harry stepped back, his hands lowered, but wand still clutched firmly in his hand, careful if Dean or Sam would suddenly decide to attack them. Out of blue, Dean felt offended for some reason, having these guy think he might just up and kill them after they willingly handed them their weapons. An urge suddenly appeared to prove them wrong, so Dean tried to relax his tensed shoulders a bit and said as friendly as he could master:

"Ok, so you are wizards, whatever, and the mini-werewolf over there is your kid, right?"

Harry looked him in the eye. "Yeah," he said cautiously, now warily eyeing the gun in his hand.

"Ok" he said, nodding, lowering his gun as well, though not relaxing his grip on it. His Dad taught him better than that.

Come to think of it, his Dad taught him better than to talk with any kind of witches at all, so he guessed they had already stepped over that line. With Ron, frowning at them, he took a tiny step forward and said: "So I'm Dean and the Ginormo there is my brother Sam"

Almost immediately, Ron's and Harry's faces took identical expressions of disbelief.

"Wait, wait, wait," Ron said, gaping. "Sam and Dean? As in, Sam and Dean Winchesters?"

"The hunters?" Harry exclaimed, gaping as well.

"Um, yeah" Sam said, sharing an unsure glance with Dean. "We are"

"The ones and only" Dean confirmed, his back tense again, ready to jump into fighting any second now.

"Shit!" Harry exclaimed, quickly turning back to Ron. "They are actually the Winchesters, Ron!"

"I know, mate, I was here!"

"What are we gonna do, now, shit, Ron, the Ministry will be here any second now!"

"We are gonna hand them to the Ministry and let them handle the hunters, Harry! Not that we have much of a choice here, mate!"

"Ron, we don't know what they are going to do to them!"

"And why in Merlin's name do you even care, Harry?"

"Wait!" Sam suddenly growled and all the eyes turned to him. "Are you telling us there is some sort of agency coming for us for whatever we have done to book us and do some god-awful shit to us?"

"For whatever you have done?" Ron repeated incredulously. "As if you don't bloody know what!"

"Ron, later!" Harry also growled, switching to his powerful intimidating mode. Dean actually took a step back at that.

Harry turned to him again. "Look, I do –"

He was cut off as suddenly a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere, wearing, what appeared to be strange black robes, a wand in his hand. Harry shut up and Ron groaned behind his back, his hand covering his face.

The new man looked bored before he glanced at Harry and Ron and his eyes widened almost comically.

"Um, Mister Potter, sir, good to meet you, uh, and you too, mister Weasley!" He stammered, his gaze switching from Harry to Ron quickly. He sounded like a fan that has just ran into his beloved idol. "I, uh, wasn't told that you were here, uh, there was just, ah, violation of the Status of Secrecy detected along with the magic of the under-aged wizard out of Hogwarts school area, and I was sent here to, uh, deal with it…" He trailed off, helplessly, his eyes wide and he looked about eighteen years old now.

"What is your name?" Harry asked him, his voice saying 'no shitting with me, boy', and the kid looked like he was about to wet himself.

"Justin Travis, sir, Mister Harry Potter, sir" he said, looking scared and ready to burst into tears. "I'm just new to this all, ah, job of mine, you see, sir, I'm just an intern, but there will be others sent here in a minute or so to check up on whether everything is going alright –"

"Shit, Harry, are you happy? They are gonna send the whole Auror Office on us now, as soon as they find out who they are" He pointed an accusing finger at Dean and Sam and they exchanged another confused look. Dean felt more and more helpless with each second, the comprehension of what's going on around him completely slipping away, replaced with a whole new level of weird shit he couldn't even begin to understand. The only thing he did get was that he and his brother were in some kind of serious shit (surprise, surprise) again, worsened by the fact he didn't really know what this shit was, really. In his mind though, he seemed to have subconsciously defined Harry as the 'good guy' versus everyone else present.

Ron didn't get to finish his accusing rambling because, just like that Justin guy a minute before, two more men appeared out of thin air, also wearing these ridiculous clothes, but looking far more serious than this intern kid.

Then everything happened too fast for Dean to process. Harry moved with a speed of lightening: shooting the hand with his wand forward he pointed at one of the new guys and a red light shot out of the tip of his wand and hit a man in the chest. The man collapsed on the ground, unmoving, not even having a chance to react.

The second guy, though, was obviously trained well because his wand shot in the air almost as fast as Harry's, making a blue light shoot out of it. It missed Harry by an inch and Dean's reflexes hit him suddenly, screaming 'danger' at him and he nearly jumped at Sam, making them both hit the ground, out of the fighting zone.

He saw Ron gape for about three seconds before finally jumping into action and also pointing his wand at the guy. A purple light flashed out of his wand, barely missing a guy in the robes, but then Harry, taking advantage of the man's distraction towards Ron, muttered something under his breath and a red light hit the guy in the arm, making him collapse on the ground, immobilized, just like the first one.

Justin, who was standing, frozen in his place, squeaked, his eyes even wider than before, and Ron's wand hit him with a flash of pale blue light. The kid fell on the ground, his eyes shutting close.

Silence filled the air, only interrupted by Harry's and Ron's heavy breathing. They lowered their wands slowly, looking at each other, before Ron yelled:

"What the bloody hell have we just done, Harry?"

"Well, we appear to have attacked the Ministry," came the almost calm reply.

"I know that, I was right bloody here, knocking out the bloody Aurors!"

"Ron, please, can we not have your freak-out right now, please?" Harry begged, tired and almost sad, and Ron's eyes widened more.

"Harry, we have just assaulted the Ministry! I'm fucking allowed to have a freak-out! What-the-fuck-ever have we done that for, huh? Care to tell me?"

"Ron, calm, down –"

"Don't tell me to fucking calm down!"

"Ok," said Harry amiably, "but, seriously, mate, you've got to postpone your little freak-out until later, after we decide what we do now"

His voice sounded calm and reasonable and Dean found himself slowly relaxing again, even though he still didn't understand one fucking bit.

"Have you killed those guys?" Dean blurted out, dreading the answer for a reason he didn't really like to think of, because 'disappointed in Harry' was kind of weird even for him. And not good-weird, but really bad-weird, that is.

Harry paused and looked at him with some kind of surprise, like he has forgotten they were still there. He sighed again, shaking his head.

"No," he said. "We just knocked them out" Then he looked Dean straight in the eye "We are not killers, Dean"

For some reason, clearly unknown to himself, Dean wanted to believe him.

"Try doing some other shit with me, including attacking Aurors and I will go all very killer on your arse, Harry!" Ron hissed.

"Ron, shut the bloody hell up!" Harry finally snapped at him. "Thank you for helping me, really, but you've got to shut up about it sometime this century! I'm the head of Auror Office, Ron, so believe me no one will be sent here until I say so. And no one will certainly move their asses without my direct order. All I need now is to deal with this three guys over there"

"You are so bloody daft, Harry" said Ron with a long-suffering sigh, but he moved closer and gave the three bodies on the ground. He eyed them critically. "So wha –"

He didn't finish because there was a moan and then some movement on the ground near the Impala, and Dean gripped his gun hard again, in case the werewolf came to and was ready to attack them again. He froze, though, on seeing a naked boy lying on the ground, blinking sleepily, disoriented and confused. His eyes widened as he spotted Harry, who shot to him immediately, scrunching on the ground beside him, and wrapped the boy in the coat he'd been wearing.

"God, Teddy," he breathed out, eyes closing with relief, his arms going around the boy. The boy was scrawny and lanky, had the kind of hair exactly the same as Harry – black and unruly, and his eyes were same strikingly green. Dean narrowed his eyes at them, thinking over the fact that Harry had said the kid's father was a werewolf but the kid looked like the exact copy of Harry, like a son who took after his Dad way more than after his Mom, and did that mean that Harry was that Daddy-werewolf? But he would've turned, too, right, that was full moon, he would have surely turn, you can't just skip full moon if you're a werewolf, right?

"Never, ever, do that again, Teddy, you hear me? Never" Harry was saying quietly and seriously, sounding pained. "I nearly had a heart attack when I couldn't find you in the house. You have no idea what could have happened, to you or to anyone else!"

The kid finally seemed to notice that Dean and Sam were here as well and his eyes widened a bit when he saw them. Then he paled, his face turning absolutely white, as his gaze stopped at Sam's arm, spotting blood.

"Oh God," the kid whispered, panicked. "Did I… I didn't, did I? Harry, did I, did I… bite anyone?"

"No, Teddy," Harry said and his voice took an angry tone to it. "Thank god, no, no thanks to you, though. Had we arrived five seconds later –"

"Harry," Ron cut him off, softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Harry stood up, his face unreadable, like a stony mask, and the kid swallowed loudly.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry, oh God, I can't say enough times how sorry I am, Harry!" His eyes turned back to Sam, "I'm sorry, sir, God, I swear, I didn't mean to, I didn't, I forgot my Wolfsbane, sir, I didn't mean to –"

"It's ok," Sam said, his voice both shocked and reassuring. Right, Dean thought. Ok, my ass. They had nearly killed the kid, not without the kid attacking them first with intention to rip them into pieces, but still. Even for them, this was certainly not ok.

"We'll talk about it at home," Harry commanded, using, what Dean assumed was, his angry-Dad voice. Teddy swallowed again, before looking away guiltily, still unable to meet Harry's or Sam's eyes.

"Ron," said Harry, turning to the tall redhead. "Take Teddy home please, will you? And it would be great if you took him straight to bed, ok? Then come back here because I need your help with this" he gestured around vaguely, signalizing 'this'. "Just make sure he's in bed before leaving, ok?"

"You better stay in bed if you wanna leave your room in the next ten years, young man" Ron said, his voice also switching to some kind of your-father-is-very-disappointed tone. Teddy nodded frantically, tears running down his cheeks. "Yes, Uncle Ron"

"Good" said Ron, then came to the kid and lifted him in his arms like he weighted nothing at all. "See you in ten, Harry" he said.

And before Dean could wonder how in hell he was going to make it in ten fucking minutes, Ron turned on his heels and disappeared with a quiet pop, leaving the three of them standing in the middle of the road, alight by the street lights and the Impala.

In the silence that followed, Harry suddenly exhaled, loudly and slowly, like he was holding his breath for a really long time. His eyes were tightly shut and his hand went up to cover his face. Dean could see the tense line of his back and shoulders, and without really thinking about it he said:

"Hey, it's ok, your kid's alright, isn't he?"

He caught an incredulous look Sam shot it him and ignored it. He just understood Harry perfectly well, better than Sam ever could. He could imagine what kind of shit he will have to go though if anything happened to Ben, what he will feel if Ben was in danger, away from him, having two guys on his heels trying to kill him and nearly succeeding. Ben might not turn into a monster once a month but he did get the general idea.

But that was all the comfort he was going to get from Dean, considering that Harry's kid was trying to kill him and his brother and the fact that Harry was a witch – wizard, whatever. Dean did have his boundaries that he was not going to step over.

Harry laughed shakily, but the sound was as far from humorous as he could possibly get. He reached in the pocket of his jeans and took out a pack of cigarettes. Dean's brows shot up. Somehow, he couldn't imagine Harry smoking, the image just didn't… fit, like, Harry didn't really seem the type.

Also, it was kind of weird to be a witness of this guy knocking out a werewolf then having a magical fight on wands, no less, and then just doing something so dull and ordinary as smoking a simple fag.

Harry put one in his mouth, then lit it up with a lighter, his hands seemingly moving of their own accord, practiced, like hands of a long-time smoker. He looked at Sam then Dean inquisitively, asking "You mind?"

"It's ok" Sam said and Dean just shook his head, thinking it probably wouldn't have stopped Harry if they mind. He looked at the three unmoving bodies on the ground, that might as well have been having a neon sign above them, saying 'We minded what Harry was doing, now look at us'.

"Well?" He said instead, coming to the back of the Impala and leaning on the trunk door. Sam automatically copied his movement and now they stood facing Harry.

"Hm?" said Harry, blowing out smoke through his nose.

"Care to tell us what the hell is going on? I feel like I've asked this question million times already this night!"

"Yeah, right, the explanation" Harry murmured, shooting them small apologetic smile. "Sorry, with all that…" he gestured at the three men on the ground, "I kind of forgot"

"So, we have ten minutes before your friend is comes back so you could start talking"

"Right" Harry said with a tiny bare noticeable smirk that told Dean, that Harry was secretly mused be the fact he was being commanded around. Like he could talk or not talk, but he choose to do so himself, not because Dean said so. A smirk that said he could screw them with wave of his fucking wand and doing some hocus-pocus but he, nevertheless, decided to indulge them. Dean sighed.

Harry took one last drag of his cigarette and tossed it out, before reaching in is pocket and taking the second one. Dean rolled his eyes – Harry was a chain-smoker, too, wonderful.

Harry lit his fag, took a deep drag and began his story with the air of a professional storyteller around him, like he was about to tell a bunch of kids the Cinderella story for the millionth time.

"So, there was this Dark Wizard…"

***SPN/HP***

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