Hello!

So, I got to writing this, and it is really my first time writing an action scene, so tell me what you think of it!

Also, I have a question for you all at the bottom, so please give me your input.

Anyway, again, thank you, Saiyagirl95! Also, a huge thank you to Phantom of the Tech Booth, who continues to be amazing.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to either Harry Potter or Supernatural, but I do thank the wonderful creators of each series for making such amazing stories for us to enjoy and play with. I do own all of the other characters in the following and previous chapters, such as Frank and Josie Millerton, Sandra, Brent, Lena (pronounced Lee-na), Jared, and Jason.

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Last Chapter: Harry picked the lock to the cage and got free. He decided to go in search for his missing wand. While searching, he managed to wake up a very large werewolf by the name of Jason, who immediately attacked Harry. Fun, right? Back with the Winchesters, Harry's disappearance did not go unnoticed. However, neither did his magic endless bag. The boys are a bit suspicious, but they have other things to deal with – namely, rescuing Harry, who Castiel informs them was kidnapped by werewolves. Cas, handy as he is, also offers to use his angel powers to transport the boys to the werewolves' lair.

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Traveling with Castiel was disorienting. Dean's head was spinning, and upon arrival he promptly found a nice patch of damp grass on which to throw himself.

"Ugghhh, you should have warned me," he groaned, simultaneously clutching his head and his stomach. One was pounding, the other was twisting, and the combination made him want to hurl. He could feel the bile rising in his throat, that sour taste that creeps into your mouth, alerting you to the fact that the vomit would soon follow. "I think I'm gonna puke…"

"Are you alright?" asked Sam, and Dean looked over to see that his younger brother looked perfectly fine. 'Figures.'

He looked around. They were in the middle of a forest, and Dean could see a fairly large house just a bit off from where they were.

"Is that it?" he asked Castiel. The house was big, sure, but it didn't look to be in great shape. The shudders were falling off, the siding was covered in mould, there were misplaced shingles on the roof, and the wooden supports for the porch looked rotted through. He couldn't imagine anyone inhabiting this dump.

"That is where Harry Potter was taken when he was kidnapped," the angel affirmed.

"Great," said Dean sarcastically, climbing to his feet while futilely trying to pat the mud from the seat of his pants. "Why didn't you just transport us straight inside the house?"

"It is not logical to risk being found out immediately when the door is kept unlocked."

He grunted, acquiescing the angel's sound reasoning, though he didn't have to be happy about it. "Well, let's just go, then." With that, they trudged over to the old and slightly-warped house. When they stepped onto the porch, it creaked loudly. Because a creaky house was just what someone needs when they are trying to sneak in. It was just their luck.

The door was unlocked, just as Castiel had said it would be, so when Sam turned the knob, it gave no resistance. In fact, it gave so little resistance that it almost swung wide and hit the wall, but Sam caught it just in time. The brothers breathed a silent sigh of relief.

They were in the front hallway. They could all hear voices, though they were muffled - through a door, most likely.

"Cas, do you know where the kid is?" asked Dean quietly, eying the hallway before them and the multiple doors, which certainly wouldn't be any fun to search blindly.

"He is in this house. I do not know which room."

"We should probably split up," Sam suggested in a whisper, looking around at the numerous rooms. "Who knows how long we have? This house is pretty big, and we can get to him faster if we each search separately."

Dean nodded sharply, signaling what directions they would take. Sam took the left, and Castiel made his way over to the right. That left Dean to go down the hall.

….

Sam made sure to check all of the rooms to the left, though he couldn't really find anything of interest, besides rotting furniture. Had he not been able to hear the voices down the hall, he would assume that the house was deserted.

The house looked just like any old house would be expected to look like, if not quite a bit fancy. Sam even found a servant's staircase running behind some of the rooms. Clearly this house came from some serious money back in its day.

When he came to the servant's staircase, Sam descended a short flight of steps into a sparsely decorated room—a room that finally caught Sam's attention. The furnishings of the other rooms had not been in good shape, which was obvious, but it was easy to tell by looking at them that they had once been very expensive. This room, however, was barely furnished, save for a large padded chair and a wooden side table. There was also a lot of junk spread across the room. It had probably once been the servant's quarters, if the decades-gone attempt at making it hospitable were any indication: pale wallpaper was peeling from floor to ceiling and the fireplace was well-worn, but plain in appearance. That wasn't what caught Sam's attention, however.

There was a cage in the middle of the room. It was big by animal standards, and it looked to be about the right size for a large dog. Had Sam not known otherwise, he would have guessed that the werewolves used cages to lock themselves up during the full moon. But werewolves tended to enjoy their time in their lupine form, so what was this cage for? Fresh meat? He shuddered.

Sam got closer to inspect the cage. There were a couple of smeared drops of blood at the bottom, and it was fresh, not even dry yet. Someone who was wounded had been in the cage recently. There was also a bit of blood on the bars near the latch. Looking around a bit, Sam noticed a discarded padlock. He picked it up. The metal was scratched up around the keyhole, and there was a bit of blood on it as well, like there had been near the latch. It was obvious that someone had done some desperate lock-picking, and Sam thought it safe to assume that it had been Harry.

….

The further Dean went down the hall, the louder the voices became, though they remained muffled.

The voices turned out to be coming from a room just on the right of the main lounge, which was at the end of the entrance hall. A set of ornate pocket-doors led to this room, unlike the other doors, which made Dean think that it was a small library or perhaps the dining room.

"I'm saying that we need to haul ass," came a smooth baritone voice through the doors.

"But I was just starting to like this house…" This time it was female speaking, distinctly.

"Yeah, Lena, I know, but we didn't know that there were hunters living twenty minutes away when we decided to settle here." It was the first voice.

"What?" came another male voice, this one more gravelly than the first male's voice.

"Brent didn't tell you?" asked another guy. "They picked up the brat at some crap auto-yard just twenty minutes away from here." Dean frowned.

"But I thought they got him in Iowa…"

"No, you idiot, that's where they originally tracked him to. Then they followed his trail back to the car-lot. That's where they bagged him."

"Where's Jason?" asked the gravelly one.

"Probably sleeping," answered another woman, and her voice was about as silky as voices get.

"It doesn't matter," interrupted the first voice, the smooth baritone. "The point is, it's been a couple of hours already, and it likely ain't gonna take that long before they come looking for the kid. We need to pack up and go. Not to mention that other alpha. This pack is already in enough shit, and we don't need to get tangled up into some other pack's politics. We need to grab the kid and go, and we can bite him when we've moved. I don't want to deal with him moaning the whole goddamned time that we're getting there. We'll deal with it later."

Dean didn't know what he meant about another pack, but apparently the others did, because they all made sounds of agreement.

"Well, I guess I'll go gather my stuff…" said the woman who was apparently named Lena.

Dean backed up and crouched behind a chair in the corner. He peeked around to see the doors slide open. A strawberry-blonde woman came out first, and she was twirling some sort of stick in her hand, but she stopped in her tracks immediately.

"Do you smell that?" she asked, scrunching up her nose. A man with black hair and tan skin followed her out, stopping along with her when she asked the question. "What?" he asked, and Dean could recognise him as the one with the gravelly voice who had been referred to as an idiot earlier. "It smells like mould. This fucking house always smells like mould."

"No," countered the blond, "ignore that." She was looking around the room with suspicion.

Dean quietly backed even further behind the chair so that he was out of her sight and slowly pulled out his gun, waiting.

The other man grumbled and took a deep breath. "Ahh," he breathed out, "there's someone here."

Suddenly, there was a yell from upstairs, and it was loud. "AAARRRGH!" It was soon followed by multiple curses and obscenities.

"What the hell is Jason on about now?" demanded the brunette man, looking up, temporarily distracted from Dean's scent.

All of a sudden there was a lot of thumping from above them while the cursing continued.

"Jason!" called the man, "What the hell're you doing up there?"

Two things happened at once. First, the woman's eyes locked onto Dean's, blue onto green, and she froze. Second, Harry Potter suddenly came barreling into the room with blood running down his arm. The woman swung around to look at Harry as he darted past her, and that was her mistake.

Dean held up the gun that he had been clutching since he had crept behind the chair and jumped out. Leveling at the woman's leg, he let it off. It was silver. She would not die immediately, but it would hinder her movement, and without medical attention, the silver would kill her within the hour. She screamed, losing her balance and falling to the ground as the silver bullet dug into her calf. She grabbed her leg and her scream dropped to a vicious growl.

All hell broke loose. The woman had dropped the stick that she had been twirling earlier in favour of her injured leg, and Harry caught sight of it, immediately springing for it. At the same time, about six werewolves came funneling out of the meeting room and into the lounge.

"Sam!" yelled Dean, aiming his gun at the closest werewolf. One of the bigger ones with dark skin noticed Harry and pounced at him, landing on him awkwardly. Dean wanted to shoot it, but there was a chance he would hit the kid, and he was currently dealing with his own slew of werewolves.

"We – just – caught – you!" bit out the large dark werewolf from on top of Harry. His arms were pinning the skinny teen down. Harry gripped his wand, feeling the magic once again funnel through it, warming him. It was a welcome feeling. Though he was still exhausted from his attempt at wandless magic earlier, his old friend was once again in his hand, giving him the power to take control of the situation. Harry punched the man's face, and the man let out a grunt and went to grab Harry's already injured arm. But Harry was faster. "Stupefy!" he whispered, jabbing his wand into the man's ribs. The red beam of the spell hit the man and he keeled over on top of him, stunned.

Suddenly, there was a scream. "Jared!"

It was from the strawberry-blonde woman on the floor, whom Dean had shot in the leg. Harry could guess that she was Lena, since she had been the one to drop his wand. She suddenly got a look of rage on her face. "I'll kill you!" she screamed furiously. Harry glanced up at the man whose unconscious body was currently crushing him. She seemed to think that Harry had killed her friend.

Lena started to drag herself into an upright position, and her face twisted into agony as she put weight on her injured leg. Harry expected her to fall back over, but she didn't. She just kept pulling herself up, determined to make Harry pay. He struggled out from underneath the weight of the stunned fellow just as she threw herself forward with a scream that was half fury and half pain. Her nails—talons, really—caught on Harry's chest as she fell toward him, raking deep into his abdomen, and this time it was Harry who let out a screech of pain.

Dean had been dealing with three werewolves at once. The first one was large and blond. He had made a grab for Dean's throat, and Dean was almost caught in his grasp, but he managed to twist out of the way just in time.

"Bobby's – salvage – yard – is – not – crappy!" he yelled, kicking him in the face. He aimed his gun when the werewolf managed to scramble to his feet and shot him full in the chest. The man tumbled backward, and one of the werewolves, a smaller one, almost fell over with him as all of the dead weight fell onto him.

"Shit!" yelled the werewolf, and his companion gave a vicious laugh as he struggled to push off the large body. While the man was distracted with getting out from under the other one, Dean put a silver bullet in his shoulder. He was left with the one who had laughed at his packmate.

The werewolf, like his predecessor, decided to make a grab for Dean. He got a silver slug to the heart for his efforts.

Then Dean heard Harry yell out. He looked over to see the blonde woman fall over, still gripping onto the kid's shirt, where his abdomen was quickly starting to bleed.

'Didn't I just shoot this bitch?' Dean thought to himself. Why the hell didn't she just stay down?

From this angle, there wasn't much chance of Dean missing his target and hitting Harry instead, so he decided to take the shot. Aiming his gun for the woman once again, he managed to sink a bullet into her side, causing her to once again scream out. Harry scrambled backward away from her and looked at Dean with wide but thankful eyes.

"This house is like a maze!"

Dean whipped around to see his brother enter the room from a completely different entrance than he had used, through a door in the wall that he had not even noticed was there. "Where the hell were you?" he demanded.

"Servant's quarters," Sam answered, looking over at Dean and then Harry. He didn't get the chance to further explain, because one of the other three werewolves that hadn't been attacking Dean lunged at him. The other two seemed to be occupying themselves, oddly enough. One of them was a woman with a scar running down her face. She was currently wrestling with another large and blond werewolf, this one with an ugly scar on his bicep. Just then, another werewolf came fumbling into the room, through the same entrance that Harry had used.

"How many of you are there?" Dean asked nobody in particular. They just kept coming. It was freaking ridiculous.

"You little shit!" the werewolf yelled, and Dean honestly thought the guy needed some sleep. He had bags under his eyes, which were astonishingly bright for how tired he looked. His nose was bleeding profusely and his hand was dripping blood as well, but it didn't look like it was from an injury; it was probably why the blood from his nose was smeared over his face. He must have tried and failed to stop the bleeding by cramming his hand over his nose. Honestly, it was no wonder why it hadn't worked. The man was clearly enraged, his blood was pumping like crazy, and it wasn't going to stop gushing out of his nose unless he calmed the hell down.

But Sam wasn't going to give him that opportunity. He immediately aimed a kick at the shin of another werewolf that had been about to attack him, causing him to howl and hop around on one foot. While it was busy, Sam took a hasty shot at the already-bloody werewolf that looked dead-set on mutilating his teenage target, and the bullet just barely caught him in the neck, causing him to fall, gurgling, to the floor.

Dean took care of the other werewolf that was still hopping around on one foot and howling indignities by delivering a shot to the head.

The scarred woman seemed to have had enough of her fight, and she abruptly reached out and grabbed the head of her adversary, and she yanked it to the side violently, snapping his neck. He, too, fell over.

Both Sam and Dean aimed their guns at her, and that was when Harry finally raised his voice. "Stop!" he shouted hoarsely, just before Dean could pull the trigger.

"Can't you see? She was fighting him off!"

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"I think she let me out of the cage," Harry tried to explain, his eyes darting between Dean and the woman.

"They kept you in a cage?" Dean asked, his other eyebrow joining the first.

Harry looked down. "It wasn't that bad," he muttered, before realizing that he was actually defending them.

Dean looked even more confused. "And how can you think that she let you out of a cage? Either she did or she didn't."

Harry glanced over at the woman.

She shrugged. "I did drop a hairpin, if that is what you mean."

"To pick the lock," Sam concluded.

Just then, Castiel came walking into the room, looking about calmly at the slew of bodies. "About time you showed up," Dean said grumpily.

Castiel just gave him a flat look. "You managed fine on your own."

"You could have helped," Dean argued.

Castiel did not respond.

"So, you are the hunters?" asked the woman, who was now lounging on the couch with her legs crossed and propped up on the armrest.

'What the hell?' thought Dean. How could she be so relaxed?

"Yeah, we're hunters," Sam answered.

"You come for our little boy, then? What if I do not want to give him to you?" She asked, looking up at Sam and Dean with a glint of hate.

"Then we shoot you," replied the older brother incredulously. Honestly, what was this woman thinking?

The woman shook her head and mumbled, "You are all the same…" Looking back up at them, she put on an exaggerated pout. "Well, I am the one who allowed him to escape the cage. Had you not interfered, I would have ensured that he escaped unscathed."

"That doesn't make him your responsibility!" said Sam.

"I did not allow him to be kidnapped," she taunted.

"No, you're the ones who freaking did the kidnapping!" growled Dean.

"Er, hello?" said Harry.

Everyone turned to look at him. He turned to Sam and Dean. "Could you at least not kill her?"

"Little boy, you assume that they could kill me," the woman said lightly, looking at Harry strangely. "I will take you with me. I will not allow them to have you so that they can toss you aside later, and I did not need this pack. We do not need this pack. I saw how powerful you are. Jared was the only person in this pack besides me who was smart, and you knocked him unconscious without any trouble."

"What?" asked Dean, looking over to where Harry had been struggling earlier with one of the beasts. Sure enough, the large dark-skinned man who was lying there was still breathing. "How the hell did you do that?" he asked, trying to see how a scrawny kid could possibly knock out that train of a man.

Harry just shrugged.

The woman, however, was grinning. "With his powers," she answered for him. "I saw you." Harry was shaking his head, his eyes wide and unreadable, but she just continued on. "You are very powerful. These hunters will not understand you. They are just humans, and they will kill you as soon as they realize just how powerful you are. Can you not see that? I will bring you with me, I will change you, and you will be my son."

Dean was staring at her in wonder. "Lady, you're freaking delusional. You can't just make him your son."

The woman frowned. "Why not?"

Everyone except Castiel was staring at the woman like she was crazy.

"You will not take him with you," said the angel.

"I do not care for your words, hunter," the woman spit out, getting up from the couch and standing at her full height in front of Castiel, trying to make herself as intimidating as possible.

"I am not a hunter," Castiel said calmly. "I am an angel of the Lord."

'He seems to say that a lot,' was all that Harry could think. 'He must be really proud of it.'

"Angels do not exist," she said venomously. "And neither does God. There was no God to save me or my little brother from the monsters when I was little, so I will save this boy from the monsters, before you kill him for being himself!"

"We're not gonna kill him!" protested Dean hotly, his voice turning to gravel. "We're looking after him!"

"You say that now," countered the woman, "but you know nothing of what he can do. You are oblivious. I know not much of him, but I see this! You will kill him when you discover what he can do, just like you kill everything that is not perfectly human! I know your kind, hunter! Where do you think I got this scar on my face? Hunters killed my brother, and I will not allow you to kill this boy! All you see when you look at someone who is not human is a monster! You are the real monsters!" Her accent was thick with emotion; she was breathing heavily and her face was flushed. Despite her relaxed posture on the chair, her body was rigid.

"How are you any different?" Sam asked quietly, challenging her words.

"What?" she snapped, rearing up. She apparently took that as an extreme insult.

"You just said that we assume anyone who isn't human is a monster. Castiel isn't human, and he's not a monster. And you're doing the exact thing that you're accusing us of doing." The woman's eyes dropped and the smooth stoicism returned to her features as she pondered his words. "How are you so sure we would kill Harry when we discover what he can do with his powers?"

The woman looked deeply troubled now. "I… I must go." With that, she retreated upstairs.

Dean stared at her as she left. "Women," he huffed. "I'll never understand them."

Sam also looked bewildered.

"Should we go after her?" asked Dean with a frown.

"She saved me," Harry spoke up again. Even though the woman wasn't right in all of her beliefs, her reason for saving him had been justified, and good. She just wanted to protect him. "Just leave her alone. Enough people have already died." The hunters hesitated, their guns still drawn and trained at the staircase the woman had ascended moments ago. "Please."

There was a sort of pleading determination in his eyes, one that warned he would fight them over it. While Harry held the same gratitude to the two brothers and their angel for saving him in Iowa, it didn't mean that he would allow them to kill a woman who had helped him. If it came to it, he would leave them. He wasn't going to stay with people who killed others simply for being what they could not help but be.

"I…" Dean started, but then Castiel actually gave him a look. A look! Dean's gaze darted back to the staircase before returning to Harry's face. He could see in the kid's eyes that if he were to protest, he would be fighting a losing battle. If the kid was really as powerful as everyone seemed to think he was, they would need him for the Apocalypse. They needed all the help they could get.

"Fine," he relented gruffly. "But if she shows up later trying to gank us, I'm not just gonna ignore her."

Harry smiled in relief, his eyes softening as they looked once more at the staircase.

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So… What did you guys think?

QUESTION: Many of you have asked about or mentioned a want for longer chapters. My question is this: would you prefer longer chapters that are posted less frequently, or would you prefer me to post as I am now, which is about once every one to two weeks, with a chapter that is at least 3,000 words long?