Title: Harry Potter and the Supernatural War
Author: Azure the Dragonlady
Beta: The Real Hagrid 13
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own either Harry Potter or Supernatural
Summary: Harry Potter / Supernatural Crossover. After defeating Voldemort at 17, Harry Potter leaves the Wizarding World, trying to live a normal life under the name of Harry Evans. However, it soon becomes apparent that there are other things out there and people in need of saving. Harry becomes a Hunter, facing a whole new war, on a much larger and deadlier scale. Along the way Harry discovers that something else may have also been connected to Voldemort's rise to power and that he is more involved in it, than he ever imagined possible.
Spoilers: Strong possibility of all 7 Harry Potter books and all 4 seasons of Supernatural.
Author's Note: Takes place after Harry defeats Voldemort, and during various time intervals and events in Supernatural. There are Time Jumps during the course of this story, but you will be told of them, so no worries there.


Chapter One: Wanting the Simple Life

June 1998;
Hospital Wing, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry;
Scotland

The warm, yellow sun had been shining over both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds alike over the past few weeks. Every witch and wizard in Europe had been rejoicing during that time; rejoicing because of the final defeat of Voldemort at the hands of Harry Potter, the Boy- Who-Lived-To-Defeat-The-Dark-Lord. The Light Side had won! People were praising Harry left, right and centre for such a defeat. It was long and hard but the Light Side had triumphed over the Dark, and everyone was better for it. Owls were sent, thousands daily to congratulate Harry, but none of them were read.

As the receiver of those Owls, Harry James Potter was currently in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, unconscious, since the Final Battle (as everyone was calling it).

Harry in the middle of the wing and on the only occupied bed. This particular bed was the one he was given the previous times he'd had to come to the Hospital Wing to get mended and patched up. It was one that was situated ideally – a bed not too close to the entrance, to get woken up by incomers, nor too close to the window, to get woken up the morning light. It was perfect.

It had been nearly a month since the battle and Harry had not stirred since he'd fallen unconscious. Madam Pomfrey had declared that he was in a coma, his magic reserves drained, when Harry had first arrived. Other then that he only had small other injuries, such as, cuts burns and gashes and shallow wounds. Surprisingly well, of course, but then again Harry Potter was a person that had an extraordinary amount of luck; otherwise he'd be dead long before. His location had been kept a secret, as well as his medical status and well being; as they didn't want press hounding him and disrupting his recovery. His only visitors had been Minerva McGonagall and other surviving Order Members.

It was warm and fuzzy, Harry decided as he become more aware of his surroundings. He felt strangely content and even, dare he say it, safe. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. Suddenly, though, everything that had happened came flooding back to him, sweeping like a gigantic tidal wave of thoughts. Horcrux ……The Final Battle……the bodies laden on the bloody ground, dead ……… Voldemort…'Only one of us will leave this battlefield alive, Voldemort, and it won't be me!'……

Voldemort! Harry startled awake, oblivious to his own pain and still healing injuries, until they made themselves known. "Ugh" he groaned, feeling now the true extent of them.

"Ah. You're finally awake Mr. Potter" An unmistakably familiar voice answered. Very familiar it sounded like…

"Ma-Madam Pomfrey?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. Who'd you expect? I've been patching you up ever since you came to Hogwarts. Although this time was the worst, I must say, it was touch and go there for awhile, before you were stabilised."

"Yeah" Harry mumbled, although it came out like a groan. "Yeah…"

"Wha' happened? I-I was facing Voldemort" Harry whispered, the events of the Final Battle continuing to flash before him. "I finally did it, didn't I? Killed him? He's dead, gone?!"

"Yes, it would seem so. There was nothing left of him."

Harry managed a half smile, a smile he hadn't given in a long time, before Madam Pomfrey gently lowered a potion goblet to Harry's lips so he could take a sip. Harry gave into the potion's effects and his world went dark, his mind and body finally getting a long awaited rest.


During the next few days, Harry slipped in and out of consciousness, his body getting much needed rest and recovery, with the help of several potions. The next time Harry woke it was dark. There was movement in front of him. As his eyes adjusted it could see that it was Madam Pomfrey.

Harry hadn't needed his glasses since a few months into searching for the Horcruxes, Hermione insisted he get them fixed, with a spell, as they were a liability. Harry had grudgingly done so, but appreciated that Hermione was indeed right; and he was thankful for it in the end.

"Here take this, Mr. Potter. This is your last one, then you can recover as you normally would." She said gently, but with a trace of authority.

"So, after this, I can escape this place?" Harry asked, hopefully.

"No, I'm afraid not Mr. Potter, you still need your rest. It was quite a feat you pulled." Pomfrey replied, amused.


In the next few days, when Harry was allowed to sleep without the aid of a potion, he suffered terrible nightmares. Ron, Hermione …Ginny… Harry choked at the thought. Harry was tormented with the horrible images of their deaths. They were still too fresh on his mind - painful.

He thought about the situation he was in. The press and public alike would hound him and he didn't like all the attention. He resolved to go somewhere quiet, away, to be by himself. He needed out of the wizarding world - now. He only needed to persuade Madam Pomfrey to his view and to release him from her care. He couldn't count how many times she'd caught him trying to sneak away, so it'd be easier with her on board. Besides, he might need her services in the future. 'Trouble usually finds me' Harry mused. He snorted at the thought.

Madam Pomfrey came into the wing in that moment. Time to see if she'll let me outta here, Harry thought to himself.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?" She asked, concerned.

"I'm fine now, Madam, thank you," Harry replied. "Thank you." His voice was filled with the upmost sincerity at the statement. He greatly appreciated all that she'd done for him over the years.

"That's quite alright. Someone had to patch you with all the trouble you seem to get yourself into," she said lightly.

"I don't go looking for trouble. Trouble usually finds me." He quoted what he'd said years before.

"Well, everything seems to be in order. You are recovering well." She said after a quick flick of her wand to check the healing progress.

"That's great. Do you think I could leave now, then?"

Madam Pomfrey didn't speak for a moment, looking at Harry with sharp, scrutinising eyes. She was searching for something he couldn't quite identify at the moment. Evidently, she'd found it because she spoke moments later.

"I see you will not let up on this matter, so as long as you take it easy, you can go. Where, might I ask, are you planning on heading off to?" She inquired.

"Anywhere - everywhere. I don't really know – I just need to get away from everything here, away from the wizarding world," Harry answered softly. "I can't stay here, not after everything that as happened. Not after Ron and Hermione……and Ginny's deaths."

"Why would you think that? Everyone would love to have you here."

"That's just it; I don't want press and everyone hounding me day in and day out. I can't live like that. I just……" Harry swallowed. He couldn't stay here, not after his friends died here. He'd be reminded of their deaths every minute of every day and he couldn't…wouldn't be able to handle that.

Madam Pomfrey must have thought that he needed to talk though, because what she said next forced him to voice what he had been thinking these last few days. "What is it, Harry. What are you thinking?"

At her tone, Harry couldn't help but be truthful. He needed to tell someone, he couldn't keep it inside of him, not anymore. He'd gone through too much, too soon and the burden was building up inside of him. He now needed to let it out.

"Voldemort thought that their deaths would break me." He spoke, looking down out the sheets. "Leave me vulnerable. But they didn't, instead, I used that pain, that anger I felt and turned it into something useful – something more practical – something that I could use to defeat him. It was the strength that I needed to finally defeat him. I turned the tables around, even though the odds were against me, I won. I won but I also lost. I lost my family, my friends. Everyone. They're all gone – killed, because of him. I may have won the war, but I lost everything dear to me……everything that ever mattered to me……" Harry trailed off, voice trembling with the raw emotion as he expressed how he felt. His fists were clenched around the white blankets. He looked up and saw Madam Pomfrey's stunned expression.

"Oh dear," she whispered softly; reluctant to interfere while Harry was expressing his thoughts. He clearly needed to let it of his chest, and she wasn't going to be the one to deny him that.

"So you see why I can't stay here…why I refuse to. I can't…the memories…it's too painful. I need to get away, you know? Rethink my life, the purpose in my life, now that Voldemort dead and gone forever, never coming back. I just want to have a simple, quiet and normal life...or something resembling that anyway. I need as much of it as I can get. No more fighting, battles or anything of the likes. Just simple, quiet … peaceful. I've lost so much, you know? So much. It's painful and it won't go away, probably won't ever go away. I just need a life to myself. To be just Harry. Not the Boy-Who-Lived or whatever they're calling me now. Just Harry. Don't I deserve that, after everything I've done, everything I've given up?

"If anyone deserved that, it would be you. Don't worry Mr. Potter, I won't tell anyone anything. I'll help you. Just promise me you will let me know if you need anything." Madam Pomfrey said.

"Thank you…very much. I'm sorry about all that……"

"That's quite alright. You looked like you needed it. Do you have a plan, where you want to go?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Yes, actually, I've been thinking these past few days," Harry paused, looking at Madam Pomfrey, but at her nod, continued. "I've been thinking that even if I were to, er, disappear from here, from the wizarding world, the press, everyone would still know, still try to find me, what with me be a saviour and all. So I've thought about it and I've decided that I think it would be best, for everyone, for me, if they believed that I'd … died, even the Order members."

"Mr. Potter, I don't believe…"

"Please. I need this. I know you don't agree, but I believe that it is the best course of action. I don't want to be hounded by the press and the public for the rest of my life."

It was Harry's tone of voice that finally persuaded her. It was practically pleading, he was practically screaming out that it was his choice and he need to do this. So with a small amount of reluctance, Madam Pomfrey consented, "Very well, then, Mr. Potter."

"Call me Harry. And thanks, I appreciate this."


Early Morning, the Next Day;
Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley;
London

After being declared fit enough to be walking around Harry was implementing his plan and walking towards Gringotts. Diagon Alley, it seemed, had been rebuilt somewhat since the war. The buildings and shops that were destroyed had been reopened once again, some new and some refurbished. It wasn't that busy now, so there wouldn't be any chance that he'd be recognised. He kept his head down, regardless, and flattened his hair over his now semi-faded lightening-shaped scar.

His famous scar had faded slightly after the connection between him and Voldemort had been broken by his death. It was now not so prominent and that suited Harry nicely. He hated how noticeable it was, because it inevitably leads to people seeing it and him therefore being noticed. He preferred to stay in the background, which was exactly what he planned on doing now that his task was done.

Last night he had come to the decision to go to America. That way he didn't need to alter his appearance, as he would have less chance of getting recognised…hopefully.

Gringotts was empty when Harry arrived, which was even better. The building itself only suffered minor structure damage, which was easily fixed. The Goblins were resilient and resourceful and it had allowed them to survive the war. They liked to stay out of the affairs of the Ministry, and stressed client confidentiality. This is exactly what Harry needed.

He walked up to a counter where a free Goblin sat, towards the end of the hall.

"Hello," He greeted warmly. The goblin looked up from what he was reading.

"May I help you?" He grumbled, inspecting Harry closely. The goblin's eyes widened slightly when he recognised exactly who stood before him. He briefly glanced up at Harry's scar and Harry inwardly sighed at the familiar motion.

"Yes, I need to take care of some things, but not out here. Is there a private room we could go to?" Harry said.

"Yes, of course. Follow me sir," with that the goblin stood up and Harry was led towards one of the many doors leading of the hall. The goblin opened up the door and Harry saw that there was a passageway on the other side, with a few doors spaced unevenly on either side. After walking into one of the room, he could see that it was a small, yet spacious baby blue room with a single table in the centre. The goblin sat at the far end of the table, so he faced the door they just entered through.

When Harry sat down, so that his back faced the door, the goblin spoke. "What may I help you with?"

Harry told the goblin of his plans to leave the wizarding world, and go to America and live under a different name. The goblin nodded and grunted in reply, "It is possible to get a new ID in the muggle world from here, if you wish to do so."

Harry nodded. "Yes, please." That was exactly what Harry needed.

"I will draw something up." The goblin paused, then picked up a feathered quill from the ink pot at his right hand side and considered something on the paper in front of him. "Under what name would you like to live?" He asked.

"Uh -" Harry thought for a moment, before finally coming to a decision. It was the perfect name, in memory after his mother. "Harry Evans. Evans after my mother."

"That is acceptable. Good choice, sir."

"If I am officially declared dead, is there a way for the ministry to gain control over my vaults?" Harry considered. He knew that Minister Scrimgeour, although was not like Fudge, may just try to secure his money.

"No. Gringotts is independent of the ministry," the goblin said.

"That's good. Is it possible to transfer some money from my vaults to a muggle bank?"

"Yes, sir. How much would you be looking at?"

"If I were to say, about a quarter of the money I have, how much would that make out to, in American dollars?"

"Hundred million." The goblin calculated immediately.

Harry was stunned. He never realised just how much money he'd inherited and the position that his family held. "Whoa, that's a lot."

"You come from a wealthy family, Mr. Potter."

"Yeah, I guess so. So if I do, for any reason, need to transfer more in…"

"Owl or contact us, we will send a verification letter, which you will need to place a drop of blood on, then you just write the amount and we will see that it gets transferred," the goblin answered, apparently knowing where Harry was heading. The goblin shuffled the papers in front of him around and tapped them. He felt the air shift as magic began to manipulate the papers. "Here are your identification papers, with you new name. Everything is in order."

"Thankyou." Harry stood up, taking the papers the goblin pushed towards him and nodded to the goblin as he left.


1st December 1998;
Harry Evan's House;
Just Outside of San Francisco, USA

Six months later found Harry Evans making a cup of tea in his new house. Since leaving the wizarding world Harry had gathered his few belongings, mainly his wand, some money, Marauders' Map, invisibility cloak, his godfather's motorbike, which had been left to him in Sirius' will and his ever faithful friend – Hedwig. Harry moved to the US, choosing a nice perfect spot on the outskirts of San Francisco. A great place to settle down and live the simple, quiet, normal life he'd been hoping to live. Harry turned the jug on and waited for the water to boil. He turned his thoughts over to his new life.

Harry had gotten a relatively small house, but it had everything he needed; a kitchen, two bedroom (one master and one spare), although he didn't suspect that he would have any visitors, let alone ones that actually slept over, and a bathroom and laundry and lounge rooms. It was everything he needed in this new life and more.

Yet, Harry couldn't help but feel that something was wrong; missing from this simple life and it eluded him. He just couldn't quite place it and it was rather frustrating. Frowning, Harry lifted the jug, which had by now finished boiling, and poured the scalding water into a mug that he had taken out of the cupboard a few minutes before.

Harry continued to try and remember what it was he was missing. His life, as it was now, was everything he wanted, wasn't it? It was simple and quiet and normal. Perhaps too normal, maybe? No he didn't think that was so, did he? He'd even told Madam Pomfrey that he wanted this.

He grabbed his now made tea, stirring it while walking to the kitchen table, where a copy of today's San Francisco Chronicle sat. Harry sat himself down on the chair next to the table and looked at the front page of the Chronicle. He saw that the headline for today was a new development in the series of brutal killings that were happening around Muir Woods National Monument. Underneath the massive headline was a picture that looked like –

"Greyback? It is Fenrir Greyback, but…," Harry paused and quickly scanned the article. "That style of attacks does sound like him……Brutalsavagevicious killingsvictims mauled beyond recognition……he must have escaped the Final Battle and fled the country."

A memory suddenly assaulted Harry. It was of the 24th of December 1996, almost two years ago. He was at the Burrow and he and Remus were discussing Greyback. Remus' voice came flooding back to him.

"Fenrir Greyback is, perhaps, the most savage werewolf alive today. He regards it as his mission in life to bite and contaminate as many people as possible; he wants to create enough werewolves to overcome wizards…… Greyback specialises in children…bite them young, he says, and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards, " Remus had said.

If that was true then Harry needed to stop Greyback, before he does continue to carry out his mission, and get away with it, from the looks of it too. It looked like no one knows he's here. Either that or somebody does and is letting him get away with it. 'And I don't know which is worse' Harry thought, 'Knowing that someone like Greyback is on the loose and not stopping him, or not knowing someone like him is here –' Harry stopped short, having decided what he should do. "Greyback needs to be stopped and if no one else was going to do it and save lives, then I will!"

It suddenly occurred to Harry. The missing feeling that was in every inch being had dissipated. This was exactly what Harry had been missing. "Well," Harry mused, "Hermione did say that I have a 'saving people thing'".

Harry stood up, now determined. He glanced at the calendar that was hanging on the wall opposite him. The next full moon was in two days. Two days to get ready and get back into his 'saving people thing' and fighting evil. It was the only thing that made Harry feel whole…complete. Despite wanting the simple life, Harry knew, now at least, that deep down, the only thing that really mattered was the difference to people lives he could make. He had the power (which he never really wanted) and now he would stop fighting it and start embracing it, to save people… to set things right and defeat evil.

And right now it was time to go hunt down that werewolf.


Revised and Beta'd: February 19, 2009

-Azure the Dragonlady-