Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine and neither is Supernatural and I don't make any money from this fic. Now lets me honest people we all know I don't own their series and if I made any money from fic I won't be working on a 9-yr. old computer on dial up.
Bad Author Notes: My Muse demanded that I write this fic after finding only one HP/Supernatural fic worth the time to read. And as everyone know it's a bad idea to upset you Muse or get her pissed off at you therefore may I present my attempt at writing a Harry Potter/Supernatural fic.
Oh before I forget the one HP/SN fic worth reading is The Art of Survival by gbholderness at:
by Lady FoxFire
May 30, 2007
The ancient wood doors swung open silently only to crash into the stone walls of castle. The resulting crash echoed through the huge room, drowning out all other sounds until it faded to away.
In the doorway stood John Winchester and his three sons. Like a well-trained team their eyes immediately identified the entrances and exits as well as the people most likely to act first and think second.
After a few minutes of silence, Sammy said "I think the cat got their tongues, dad," as he brushed his bangs away from his face.
John chuckled softly. "I think you're right, son."
As if a switch has been thrown some of the people gathered in the room began to fumble for things hidden within their robes. Many of them were soon pointing sticks at the Winchester men.
"Wands," Duncan said in ho hum tone of voice, "how droll," as he glared out at the masses.
"I still prefer my boom stick," Dean said with a smug grin as he quickly glanced over at his younger brothers.
Duncan's misty green eyes turned toward his older brother. "You know you really watch way too much of the Evil Dead series," he stated as he scratched at his 5 o'clock shadow. "Besides the Freddy movies are a hell of a lot better. No one can compete against Freddy's wicked humor"
"Yeah… well Bruce Campbell rules," Dean countered. "How many guys do you know can screw up a spell, end up releasing evil upon the world and yet still get the girl?"
Duncan and Sammy shared a look.
"He only likes the movie because of the shot gun. It's a phallic symbol," Sammy said with the wisdom only the youngest in a family can have.
Duncan cocked an eyebrow at his younger brother's statement while Dean's cheeks colored slightly.
"I figured it would have been the chainsaw he used to replace his hand in the second movie," Duncan's voice betraying his curiosity over his baby brother's reasoning.
"Nah! The chainsaw is good symbol for the male virility but when a shot gun is fired, it erupts," Sammy explained. "I mean look at the first half hour in Army of Darkness. Ash shoots the female Deadite and then suddenly he's the most important male in the medieval community."
"There was a prophecy involved," Dean pointed out in defense of the character only to have Sam and Duncan wave off his words.
"If you think about it in Evil Dead 2 when Ash has to battle his dismembered, possessed hand with the shotgun," Duncan said, "you could view that as masturbation. It was the hand versus the shotgun."
"I'm worried about these two, dad," Dean said. "I just like the movie cause it's a hoot but those two… they seem to think it's all about sex."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, John closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head.
"Now if you look through the classic literature it's staffs and swords that are the true phallic symbol. Its clear size really does matter when it comes to power. After all in the Tolkein books and the Once and Future King, Merlin and Gandalf both had big staff and they were kick ass wizards. All these guys have wimpy wands and they can't even seem to put out enough power to defeat one evil bad guy with delusions of grandeur," Sammy commented.
A number of people by this time were looking at their wands instead of watching the Winchesters.
An old man with a long flowing white beard chose that moment to rise from his seat at a table at the far end of the room. "Welcome to Hogwarts. Have you come seeking shelter with us from Voldemort and his followers?" he said as all eyes in the room came to focus on him as a shiver of fear swept across the hall at the mention of the Dark Lord's name.
"Would that be the snaked-faced monster with red eyes," John asked as he started to walk towards the table the old man was at. The young men moved as one and fell in step behind their father, guarding his back.
"He is," the old man said with a nod of his head and a pleasant smile on his face as his eyes examined the Winchesters.
John nodded his head. "And yet you remain in hiding here in this castle?"
"The Dark Lord can not enter these walls," the old man replied with a trace of pride as he glanced around the room.
"So you permit this Dark Lord of yours to run around raping and murdering those who can't defend themselves against magic, while you sit inside with no guards to warn you if someone approaches the castle," John commented.
"Of course we don't," an older woman with salt and pepper hair done up in a bun wearing square glasses snapped as she glared at John. "We've been training the best young wizards and witches to fight the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. Furthermore we've sent out people across the world to search for young Mr. Potter."
"Mr. Potter?" John asked with a raised eyebrow as his sons barely stiffened their stance.
"Of course," the woman said, "as a babe the young man was able to defeat the Dark Lord once before. There are many here who hope he could do it again, if he could be found."
John made a thoughtful noise at the woman's comment. "You put a lot of faith this Mr. Potter, Miss…"
"McGonagall. Professor McGonagall," the woman said. "And you have a problem with faith, Mister…"
"I have no problem with faith, ma'am but I do have a problem with people dumping their problems onto someone else, especially when that person is just a kid," John replied. "Instead of waiting and hoping that this kid shows up you people should be doing something. Taking out known supporters, hit and run raids. Hell even standing guard on the castle wall is a shit load better than waiting around with your thumb up your ass hoping this kid can be found."
"True. Very true," the old man said with patronizing smile. "You're right we should have guards watching the walls. Perhaps you and your sons would be willing to take the first watch?"
John let out an ungentlemanly snort. "I kind of doubt we'll be here that long," he replied with a half grin. "We're only here to speak to a man named Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore."
"And what business do you have with the Headmaster?" a dark skinned bald man who sat two chairs down from the old man asked warily as he fingered his wand.
"Are you Dumbledore?" Dean asked, his misty-green eyes narrowing as he looked the man over and found him lacking.
"No," the man replied with a smile that said 'Trust me I'm a nice guy'. "I'm Auror Shacklebolt."
"Well if you're not Dumbledore then shut the fuck up," Dean replied as he dismissed the man.
"Young man," McGonagall said in a firm voice as she looked over her glasses at Dean, "such vulgarity is not permitted with in the hallowed halls of Hogwarts."
After looking at McGonagall for a moment, Dean turned towards his younger brothers. "No swearing, dickwad," Duncan translated.
"Oh," Dean said simply. "Why didn't she just fucking say so?"
Duncan shrugged his shoulders. "You know how teachers are. All brain. No common sense. Always trying to should how much better they are to everyone else."
"Dean. Duncan. That's enough," John said as he tried to keep a smirk off his face as those at the table in front of him fumed at the antics of his children. "And don't even thinking of starting Sammy."
"It's Sam," the youngest said as once again he brushed his bangs aside.
With a glance up to the heaven John let out a frustrated sigh before turning his attention to those in front of him. "So which one of you bastards is Albus Dumbledore?" he asked.
"I am," the old man who they had been talking to most of the time they were in the castle replied as he stroked his long white beard. "And who are you my good sir?"
"Someone you don't want to piss off, old man," John replied as he looked upon Dumbledore with contempt.
"Now here see my good man," a balding red headed man said from a neighboring table, "there is no need to insult anyone after all we are all good wizard here."
Duncan turned and looked at the red headed man. "Who said we were wizards?"
At first silence was the only answer to Duncan's question but soon hurried whispers made their way around the Great Hall.
"Then... then how did you find Hogwarts?" someone babbled from one of the tables. All too soon other questions began to be voiced.
"Silence!" Dumbledore bellowed over multitude of questions be shouted.
Immediately the hall because as silent as a grave.
"Damn, you got them well trained." Duncan commented as he looked around the hall. "Can you make them jump through hoops or do the chicken dance?"
"Or the Hokey-Pokey," Dean suggested.
"Could make them listen to polka music," Sammy suggested with an evil glint.
"Oh now that's just evil Sammy!" Dean stated with a shiver. "Hey… you don't think…"
John shook his head. "No I've already checked. It's just the creation of some sick bastard just like reality TV is."
"I like polka music," Dumbledore said interrupted the unusual banter of the strangers.
The Winchesters stared at Dumbledore in silent horror, as did a number of people around him.
"Well now that I have your attention," Dumbledore preened with pride as everyone's attention was now focused on him, "could you please explain how, since you are Muggle, you arrived at Hogwarts and why?"
John let out an undignified snort at Dumbledore's attitude before turning to his eldest son. "Dean," he said.
Dean nodded his head at this father's unspoken order before stepping up to the High Table. With a cocky smile on his face, he placed the dark green cloth wrapped object on the table in front of the Headmaster. The young man's smile grew wider as he released the ends of the fabric allowing the cloth to flutter open.
"Sweet Merlin!" McGonagall exclaimed as her hand covered her mouth. The teacher next to her fainted into his meal while a lemon drop fell out of the Headmaster's mouth and onto his beard.
In front of the Headmaster was a decapitated head, the decapitated head of Lord Voldemort. Even in death the Dark Lord was a fearsome being. His red eyes stared at the Headmaster as if he could actually see him. His thin lips were drawn back in a snarl of rage.
"Sammy," John said with a nod to his youngest as Dean stepped back into his place next to his brothers.
The youngest gave McGonagall an apologetic look as he set smaller cloth covered item on the table. "We were surprised to actually find it," he said as he let go of the fabric which revealed a human heart.
An exclamation of "Bloody hell" could be heard from a number of people.
As Sammy stepped back into place the middle son, Duncan watched his father, waiting for his command.
With a nod of his head, John ordered Duncan forward.
Twirling something in each hand, the young man marched up to the High Table, a manic grin on his face. When he reached the table he raised his arms in to the air and then he quickly plunged them down at the heart. The with an imagery tip of hat, Duncan stepped back among his family, leaving the remains of a broken wand sticking out of the heart.
"What have you done?" Dumbledore sounded stunned as he stared at the decapitated head of the wizarding community's greatest enemy.
"We've killed a monster. One you wizards were too afraid to deal with," John answered grimly.
"You bloody fools! All you've done was to destroy his body," Auror Shacklebolt stated with contempt for the Muggle in front of him. "You can't kill him that way! You have to destroy his soul."
"And how do you know we didn't destroy his soul?" Duncan asked with disgust for the wizard before him.
"You stupid little Muggle," Shacklebolt snarled. "The Dark Lord split his soul and hid it!"
"So you mean he made it easier for us to destroy his soul," Dean stated in a bored tone of voice
"Unfortunately that is not the case," Dumbledore said. "The only way to destroy his soul is to find all the pieces and destroy them one by one."
John asked, "you do realize there are other types of magic don't you?"
Those closest to the High Table looked at each other in confusion. "You mean non-human magic?" the shortest teacher at the table asked
"That a no then," John pinched the bridge of his nose again. "Tell me what exactly do you teach your students here? Needlepoint? Blood letting?"
"I'll have you know that Hogwarts is the finest institution of magical learning in the world," McGonagall stated in an uppity tone of voice.
"If that Voldie guy is an example of what you produce then you're pretty fucking shitty," Duncan mumbled under his breath but loud enough to be heard by all.
McGonagall sputtered, "Now see here young man…"
"Look lady," Duncan said, "you may think this school is hot stuff but you only teach one kind of magic here and you couldn't stop moldier Voldie with it now could you?"
McGonagall open her mouth in outrage but nothing came out.
"I didn't think so," Duncan said before turning to his father. "Can we get out of here Dad? If we get home in time we might be able to join Caleb in his hunt for some Bloody Heads. They has to be more challenge than that idiot was."
"A salt and burn job is more challenging than this loser was," Dean grumbled under his breath.
"No way!" Sam exclaimed angrily. "I want to see England! I didn't travel all this way to this job and then go home."
"Oh come on Sammy," Dean moaned. "You've seen one drafty old castle you've seen them all."
"Dean's right Sammy," Duncan said in support of his brother. "We got more important things to do than play tourist. Isn't that right Dad?"
"Keep me out of this boys," John said with a chuckle. "You three have to settle this argument."
"We're going to see the Tower of London," Sam said in a tone that left no argument. "And if Mac can pull it off, we might get in to see Leap Castle."
Dean's interests seem to pique up at the name of the castle. "You mean the place with the Elemental?"
"Yep," Sam said smugly.
"Caleb would sell his left nut just for a chance to see that place," Duncan said.
"Name me someone who wouldn't!" Dean replied.
"They executed people at the Tower of London," Duncan stated as he looked at his older brother.
"Yeah they did," Dean said thoughtfully as he stroked his chin. "Well… it's not like we can't help Caleb on his next hunt."
"Probably wasn't a Bloody Head to begin with," Duncan said in support as he started for the door.
"Maybe a Hell Hound," Dean suggested as he soon fell in step with his younger brother with Sammy and John taking up the rear.
Dumbledore sat motionless in his chair staring at the lifeless head of the Dark Lord, never noticing when the men who will become know as the Defeaters of the You Know Who left the castle.
After what seems like eternity Dumbledore opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it. The finally he spoke. "But the prophecy…."