Chapter one,

Dear Harry,

If you are reading this letter then I am dead. I made a spell that would have the letter sent to you on your thirteenth birthday even if I had been killed. I really hope that you never have to read this letter and that I can tell you this face to face. I am so sorry, baby. I'm sorry for the news I'm about to tell you and the experiences you have probably gone through. First of all, James is not your father, though he treated you like his own son. Your real father is a muggle named John Winchester. I had gone to a bar in Nebraska called Harvelle's Roadhouse to have a few drinks, but I took it too far. I am ashamed to say that my emotions got a hold of me that night since I had a huge row with James previous to that. Just know that although I am ashamed, I am not sorry that you were born. You have been the best thing in my life and I hope you grow up spoiled and never needing a thing. I love you and never forget that.

From, Mum.

Harry sat with his head in his hands and tears falling onto the blanket he was holding tightly to. He wasn't Harry James Potter. James Potter was never his dad. How could have this happened? He looked just like him! How could his mum have done this to him?

'No,' He thought, 'I can't blame her. Besides, this is good isn't it? If I find John then maybe we can be family!' He wiped his eyes and stood up in his small room at the Dursley's. Maybe, just maybe, he could finally leave his past behind him.

Harry grabbed a worn out backpack from his trunk and put his most prized possessions in it that he had hidden under the floorboards. His photo album, his wand (he had given a fake one to his uncle), his shrunken Nimbus 2000 and his blanket that he had since he was a baby. He also grabbed the clothes he owned, which wasn't much.

He listened for the snores of his uncle and cousin before continuing to his drawer where he kept a big bag of money that he had gotten in exchange for the same amount of galleons. He stuffed the bag into his trunk along with some of his spell books.

He grabbed Hedwig's cage and put his finger to his lips. The white owl looked at him with glowing eyes, but didn't make any noises. Harry smiled his relief and opened her cage quickly and quietly so it wouldn't creak and let her climb onto his arm. He went to the window and picked the main lock for the bars on his window and let her fly out. She hovered for a second until Harry shooed her away. She couldn't be safe if she went with him or stayed here. Maybe she would find a home until he could call her back. She hooted and affectionately nipped his hand one last time before flying off.

He closed the window and relocked it before turning around and sat lightly down on his bed.

He almost reached for his glasses before remembering that he didn't need them anymore because he got his eyesight fixed the previous year.

In ways, he had changed a lot since first and second year. He let his hair grow out a little so it framed his skinny face with midnight black curls and made his emerald green eyes seem bigger. He hadn't grown in a long time so he gave up on reaching over five feet. His body was lithe and wasn't made for strength, but rather for speed. He still didn't look his age, looking more like a ten year old then being a newly turned thirteen year old.

He sighed quietly to himself, but forced a smile on his face. Today was supposed to be a great day! He had found out he had found a living relative that might not hate him plus he was finally leaving the Dursley's!


Ellen was alarmed when the ten-year-old kid opened the door to her bar. She took in his appearance, his black curls and bright green eyes. Most likely a runaway, she concluded, noticing his scruffy clothes and the dirt visible on his small body and small backpack.

"Well hi there," Ellen said, it was lucky that it was a slow morning; hunters don't normally do well with some kids.

"Hi," the kid replied back in a British accent, looking at her through his emerald green eyes.

"Come sit and I'll get you a soda." Ellen grinned at him, and the kid seemed less tense. He slowly walked over and plopped down on one of the barstools. He seemed completely exhausted. Which wasn't that surprising if he's British and just came to the US.

Ellen sprayed some Sprite into a glass and discretely added some holy water into it to make sure he wasn't a demon. To her relief, when he sipped it he didn't seem in any pain.

"So what's your name, sweetie?" She asked, as he finished his drink.

"My name is Harry." The kid, Harry said. Ellen raised her eyebrows, most defiantly a runaway.

"My name is Ellen, the owner of this roadhouse. I'm a little curious though, no last name?" She prodded, but Harry shook his head, sending some of his curls bouncing.

"Well, I do, but I guess it's not my real last name." He said bitterly, "I came here because my father isn't really my father." He looked up at her through his black bangs, "I was hoping that you might know my real dad."

"Does anyone know where you are right now?" Ellen asked worriedly, before he told her the name.

"My mom died when I was a baby and so did my step-dad. I live with my aunt and uncle. But ya, they know." Harry was lying through his teeth, but he didn't want Ellen to know about his aunt and uncle.

"OK," Ellen sighed, "Tell me your real dad's name, although, lots of people come through here so I don't know if I'll remember him.

"His name is John, John Winchester." Harry said anxiously, looking for signs of recognition on Ellen's face. Ellen tried to hide her shock, her first instinct was to grab a gun, but Harry already proved he wasn't a demon. That made her heart ache because Harry will never know his real dad, since John was dead.

Could you do me a favor, Harry?" Ellen asked quickly, "Could you wait here really quick. I do know John, but I would have to call him to get him over here." Harry nodded, his eyes wide.

"Ya, totally. Thank you so much!" Harry exclaimed, happy to finally have a connection to his dad.

Ellen went to the back room and took out her cell and dialed what she knew to be Dean's number. Dean picked it up on the fourth ring, his voice alert so he must be on a case.

"Hey, Ellen." He said into the phone, Ellen heard Sam saying something in the background, but she couldn't make it out.

"Dean," Ellen's voice was dead serious, "You have to come to the roadhouse right away."

Dean's voice hesitated and all of a sudden it was Sam's voice now, "What do you mean, Ellen? Is there something wrong? Is Jo ok?"

"Jo is fine, she's off on her own hunt right now. But it's something different, it has to do with your daddy." Ellen didn't even need to finish her sentence for them to hang up. She knew they would be here in less than 24 hours if they could help it.

Ellen walked back out to find Harry fiddling with one of the silver spoons that she had on her table. She relaxed even further, knowing that he wasn't a shape shifter.

Ellen cleared her throat and Harry looked up, his face a little guilty as he put the spoon down. "Did you get a hold of him?" he asked quickly.

"No," Ellen admitted, "But I did get a hold of two people that know him the best out of anybody." Harry nodded glumly, but was still hopeful.

"Do you think that he'll want to see me?" The question almost broke Ellen's heart in two. Clearly this kid wanted family, family he could rely on.

"Knowing John, always." Ellen said, her eyes a little misted. "How old are you, Harry?"

"I'm thirteen," he replied, but before she could express her shock he added in, "I look way younger I know." He pulled his baggy long sleeve shirt around him even more, but not before she got a glimpse of multiple bruises on both his arms. Could his uncle or aunt abuse him?

"Why don't you stay the night, Harry?" Ellen asked, "It would make me feel a lot better if you did." Harry looked up from his halfway filled soda.

"Really?" He exclaimed, "But you don't even know me!"

"I know that you're a kid that needs somewhere to stay," She said firmly, not moving an inch. Harry's eyes brightened even more if that was possible.

"Thank you so much for everything, ma'am!"

Ellen totted at Harry, "None of this ma'am business you hear? You call me Mrs. Ellen or just plain Ellen, okay?"

"Okay…Ellen." Harry grinned. Ellen pointed at a door to the right of the bar.

"Just go straight into that room and it should have everything you need." She smiled slightly when Harry grabbed his backpack and walked quickly past her into the room. She gave him smile before she lost sight of him.

She leaned against the bar and closed her eyes. What would Sam and Dean do when they got here?