Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. I'm not sure who does, especially with Supernatural, because there are producers and investors and stuff, right? And for Harry Potter don't the movies have separate rights? Yeah, I'm not getting into that, so if you recognize it, it's probably not mine. I'm not making money, or anything that's worth money by writing this. And this is the only time I'm gonna say it. I'm not gonna waste space and mess up my word count by putting this in every chapter, so this applies to the whole story.

Pairing: Main pairing for this fic is Harry/Castiel, because I love them both, and they have hardly any long chapter fics. So sad.

Author's Notes: You should probably read these before you ask questions in reviews, but they're not necessary. For those of you who want to know about the time-line of this story, it will mostly be taking place during/after Season 4 of Supernatural, as Castiel is a major character, and one of my personal favorites. However it's gonna take a few chapters to get there, we gotta take care of the exposition and all that.

This story is mostly going to be taking place from Harry's point of view. I might put in a few bits from other characters, especially if you guys really wanna see it, or are curious. We'll see how it goes, as this story is a writing in progress.

Because this is a WIP, that also means that if you wanna review with ideas, what you want to happen next, opinions, constructive criticism, etc., it will be much appreciated. I'm feeling pretty flexible with the direction I want the story to go in right now. If you think I've made a mistake, please tell me. It could be a mistake, it could be me taking liberties with the canon, but I'd like to know in case it is a mistake.

This obviously ignores the epilogue in the HP books, but there will be a few other things that will be AU as we go along. Of course, as this is fanfiction, things will change as a result of Harry being different and existing in the Supernatural universe, but the bare bones will probably be the same. Apocalypses are still happening, you know? But as you read you will find that a few things from Harry's past have been tweaked too. This has to happen for things to be as they are now. If nothing from Harry's past was different, then nothing from his present would be different, and the epilogue would happen. But don't worry, it's nothing too major.

The other A/N's shouldn't be this long, but this is the beginning of the story, so yeah. Lots of things to be said.

In My Youth


August 1998

Harry made his way to the site of Dumbledore's pale tomb, sure of his decision. The Hallows corrupted, they made men do terrible things. They had a sad history, and an especially bloody one in the case of the Wand. No one should have them, and Harry couldn't risk someone taking the Wand from him after the spectacle he made with it during the Final Battle (and really, what the actual fuck had he been thinking, making that grand speech in front of all those idiotic, talkative witches and wizards?). It was best this way. He would lay the Elder Wand to rest with Dumbledore, where it should have stayed. He had repaired his beloved holly wand, he didn't need this one that felt like it should be so blood red it was sticky, instead of the pure ivory the wood appeared to be.

But as Harry reached the tomb, a sudden thought struck him. The lid was smooth and unblemished once again, but Harry couldn't help but remember when it had had a large crack running its length, right through its center. What if it happened again? What if another terrible wizard stole the Wand, and the cycle continued as it always had, with this one stick responsible for countless deaths? No, what was he thinking? This was the worst possible hiding place, and crazily predictable of him. He needed to think the way whoever made Portkeys did. Muggles never picked them up because they just looked like inconspicuous pieces of junk on the street. He needed to hide the Hallows (yes, Hallows, because this wasn't just about the Wand anymore) in a similar way. Somewhere completely random that he had no connection to. Somewhere muggle, but somewhere where no one would stumble across them. He would think of something, but hiding the Wand here was definitely not an option.

And what was he thinking, leaving the Stone in the forest like that! Maybe he could take the Stone out of the ring it was set in to hide it (Hermione had once mocked Luna about turning every stone one picked up to see if it was the Resurrection Stone, hiding it in plain site might be a good bet), but right now it was just that, a ring! What if some rule-breaking student was wandering the forest and decided to pick it up? That was a perfectly normal thing to do, especially since, although Harry thought it was ugly, the ring was gold. And it wouldn't take long for said student, or whoever else saw the ring, to recognize the symbol set in the stone for what it was, even if it was cracked. Who knows how much trouble the Stone could cause in the wrong hands?

Well, that was it, he needed to get his hands on that ring. Harry shoved the Wand back into the mokeskin pouch he had just drew it from and set of towards the Forbidden Forest, doing his best to retrace his steps from a night he could remember far too well. He supposed there was a silver lining to everything after all. Although this one advantage in finding a ring maybe a few minutes or hours faster than he would have otherwise didn't even come close to outweighing the negative effects he was sure that being able to remember the details of the Final Battle (and so many other factors of the war. Sirius, anyone? How about Cedric? Let's not forget the famous face-disintegrating-Quirrel) would have on him. He had never been good with bad memories.

Nearly half an hour and a Lumos Maxima later, Harry finally saw something glinting in the grass to his left. "Please Merlin, let this be it. I have been out here forever, and it's cold," he muttered under his breath. Bending down, he let out a triumphant hum as he picked up the familiar ring, too tired to do anything more exaggerated.

"Wait a second..." he murmured (and somewhere in the back of his mind he thought that maybe he should take care of this whole talking-to-himself thing, who knew who would overhear and how the press would decide to spin his habit once said eavesdropping person told them about it), and held the ring closer to the tip of his wand and squinted at it. The crack in the stone set in the center of the ring was disappearing, the stone appearing to meld together, like watching a tape of the crack forming on a slow rewind, until all Harry could see was a smooth surface, and an uninterrupted symbol depicting a triangle, a circle, and a line.

"Oh bugger."