Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural. This applies to all following chapters.
A/N: Welcome to my first crossover! This is an AU where Moody and Bobby aren't dead. It is set after the war in the HP universe, and in an unspecified time in the SPN universe. (I'll just use whatever I like and what fits the story, e.g. the bunker or any information about Sam's and Dean's past) :) The title of this chapter is borrowed from SPN 02x20.
SHORT SUMMARY: Britain is swamped by dark creatures and the Ministry is unable to handle them. Mad-Eye, Harry, and Hermione are sent to the US to ask some strange Muggles who call themselves Hunters for help. However, Sam and Dean Wincherster are less than thrilled when the trio suddenly appares in their bunker...
This was originally a one shot, written for The Houses Competition, but the plot bunny bit me, which means I'll probably continue this. Let me know if you like it, please. :)
[edited - 08.04.2019: changed some background information to fit better to later chapters. My thanks to Lauramichca for pointing things out and thank you for your other suggestions!.]
I mean come on, we hunt Monsters! Normal people - they see a monster and they run, but not us; we search out things that want to kill us.
You know who does that? Crazy People!
-Dean Winchester-
1. What Is and What Should Never Be
They came at night. They always did.
However, Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody was prepared. Ten Aurors, under his command, were patrolling the border to the grounds of Hogwarts, another ten were spread across the castle, working together with those on Prefect duty.
The war against Voldemort had been won. The Death Eaters were defeated and safely locked up in Azkaban. Yet, nobody had considered that the dark creatures following Voldemort would rebel. Under Voldemort's reign, they had been free to feast on Muggles, to attack those deemed unworthy of magic. This cause had attracted many monsters, globally.
And now the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and the MLE were barely able to handle the fallout.
Hogwarts and other magical communities were under attack.
Trolls left their hideouts in the Forbidden Forest and advanced on the Hogwarts' grounds. Dementors gathered around its protective shield, trying to find a weak spot. Red Caps invaded the castle, having lived where blood had been spilled. Vampires sneaked into Hogsmeade, almost killing a shopkeeper. Whole packs of werewolves gathered in the Lake District and other national parks, hunting campers and hikers.
After Moody was positive that all Aurors were prepared and in position, he apparated back to the Ministry of Magic. He had a meeting with Kingsley, the new Minister of Magic, and other Department heads. Something had to be done, and quickly; the International Statute of Secrecy was at stake. The rate Muggles were being murdered these days almost rivalled the times of Voldemort's coup d'état.
When Moody entered the conference room, he was greeted with grim smiles and curt nods. Kingsley was there, along with Arthur Weasley, recently appointed Head of the Muggle Liaison Office, Anna Bates from the Auror Office, the Head from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Celeb Cooper, and, finally, Edith Dellacqua, Department of International Magical Cooperation.
While Kingsley commenced the meeting, Moody skimmed through the reports Anna had handed him. Five Aurors had been hurt fighting a pack of werewolves, all of them still in St. Mungo's. Two Muggles had been found dead, confirmed vampire kills. Another family of Muggles had been killed by ghouls. Boggarts had overrun a small village in Cornwall. A group of hikers had vanished on the Orkney Islands. Another two Aurors had disappeared while out on a scouting mission in Wales.
Moody sighed heavily. He'd known those two Aurors, trained them. David O'Malley and Tanvee Sanyal. And now they were MIA.
"I think we can all agree," he rumbled, interrupting Kingsley in mid-sentence, "that we need help with this situation. I lost two Aurors today, another five injured. There are dead Muggles all over Britain." He slammed his fist on the table. "This is getting worse, not better."
"I know," Kingsley sighed gravely, "The Australian and the German MoM agreed to send some Aurors –"
"I don't need more Aurors. They were trained to fight people, not animals, monsters," Moody interrupted again.
"Exactly," Cooper agreed, nodding vehemently. "We need more people who understand these creatures, who know how to fight them off."
"People to hunt them?" Dellacqua interjected, scrunching her nose.
Moody turned his gaze to her. She was a petite woman, but, despite her size, she was well respected in ministries all over the globe. "If necessary. Would you rather they hunt us?"
She glared at him, but before she could speak, Anna, his deputy, took the floor. "We shouldn't forget that we have no idea what kind creatures are responsible for half the deaths. Magizoologists are at a loss. I spoke to Mr. Scamander, and he thinks that some beasts not indigenous to Europe must have slipped into the country."
"I, too, talked to a friend in MACUSA, and he suggested some of the deaths might be caused by Wendigos," Cooper threw in.
"What are Wendigos?" Kingsley asked, his deep voice as calm as ever.
Cooper shrugged. "Monsters."
"That's why we need people who know their way around these foreign creatures," Anna said, turning to Cooper. "Do you still have that contact in MACUSA? Might he know of anybody who can help us?"
"I do," Dellacqua said quietly, and all eyes turned to her. The woman returned the stares, unafraid of the attention. "I have a friend who has a friend who has friend – you know how these things work; anyway, he told me about… Hunters." Her gaze flickered to Moody. "That's what they call themselves. They protect people, hunt monsters."
"What's the name of the contact?" Kingsley asked gently.
"Robert Singer, if I'm not wrong. If he can't help us, he'll know someone who can," she replied.
Kingsley nodded. "Contact him immediately."
Dellacqua smiled determinedly. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I'll get right on it."
With that, she left the room.
"I don't like it," Moody grumbled. "Trusting Americans. Where were they when we needed help against Voldemort?"
Anna dropped the pen she'd been holding, Kingsley tightened his fingers to fists, Cooper flinched so hard he almost fell from his chair.
"And trusting Muggles with our secrets?" Cooper added, after straightening his robes and regaining his composure.
"I don't think that's a problem," Arthur Weasley, who had stayed quiet until now, said. "If we fail, there'll be no Statute of Secrecy intact to protect us. There'll be no Wizards or Muggles left to protect. And," He held up his index finger to silence a rising protest, "and if these hunters know about monsters, they'll know about the supernatural and, consequently, about magic."
"I see it just like Arthur," Kingsley agreed. "The more important questions is, who do we send to represent us?" His gaze glided over those present. "He or she needs to have a good understanding of the situation, needs to know about the creatures, be trained in fighting them, but also, and maybe more importantly, have experience in dealing with Muggles and international travel. It must be someone we trust."
"I'll go. Then I can judge the hunters myself. I have the feeling they mean trouble," Moody announced at once.
A small smile played across Kingsley's lips. "You're not exactly a people's person, Mad-Eye. You couldn't convince anybody to help us."
Moody snorted, but he knew his friend was right. "What about Miss Granger, then? She's travelled to various countries, speaks French and Spanish, and is quite good at speaking. She's Muggle-born. And a very talented witch."
"Hermione Granger?" Arthur echoed.
"But she's not at her most diplomatic in the wake of the war," Cooper cautioned. "Isn't she still... healing?"
"We're all healing, aren't we?" Kingsley said calmly, "And we can still do our jobs."
Cooper shifted uncomfortably on his chair but didn't reply.
"Ask Mr. Potter. He'll help," Moody said gruffly. "They make a good team, balance each other out. Built an army in fifth year." He threw a sideways glance at Cooper, before adding, "He's a bit impulsive somtimes, but he inspires people. That's what we need."
Arthur nodded. "Besides, he was also raised by Muggles; he knows his way around them."
"And they are both well respected, even in the U.S.," Kingsley said. "They're eager to help, anyway."
So it was agreed upon that a delegation consisting of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Mad-Eye Moody were to be sent overseas.
Lebanon, Kansas. A few days later.
Dean Winchester woke abruptly. A small noise had startled him, too quiet to be noticed by most people, but hunter's reflexes die hard. Within seconds, he was at the door, his Colt M1911A1 at the ready. Noiselessly, he nudged the bedroom door open and glanced up and down the dimly lit corridor. It was empty.
But there it was again – a low sound, almost like hushed voices.
His back against the wall, he advanced slowly in the direction of the war room. The sounds grew louder. He'd been right. It was people talking.
Soon, he was close enough to discern what they were saying. It was two males and one female, two of them rather young, judging from the timbre. He had a feeling they were going to be trouble.
"We really should've knocked, Mad-Eye," the girl was saying. She sounded British. "It's rude to just enter someone else's property."
"Have you seen a doorbell, Miss Granger?" one of the males replied, probably said Mad-Eye. Also British. Could they be from the British Men of Letters?
What strange names, Dean thought. Mad-Eye. Hermione. Like right out of a fairy tale… or a horror story.
Almost-silent footsteps behind him told Dean that his brother had woken up as well. He half-turned to Sam, who also held his gun in his hand, and signalled him that there were three people in the war room. Quietly, they entered the chamber, large bookcases shielding them from the intruders.
"What kind of place is this?" the other man wondered aloud. "Are you sure Mr. Singer has given us the right address?"
Dean froze. Mr. Singer? As in Bobby? Had he sent these people to them without a warning?
"I'm sure the two boys hiding behind the books will tell us in a moment," the first male voice rumbled. Before either of the Winchesters could react, the bookcase slid aside and exposed them. Their guns flew out of their hands and sailed across the room, far out of reach.
Dean quickly tried to assess the situation.
The large man in the middle seemed by far the most dangerous. His scars spoke of many battles. But he also had a weakness. The way he angled his body, it was obvious to Dean that his left foot was a prosthesis. The most disturbing fact about him, though, was his eyes. One normal, small and dark; the other vivid and electric blue, and clearly not normal. It must be a magic object that allowed its bearer to see through furniture and walls… and clothes?
Dean shook himself. That one would have to be taken out first. The boy next. He was tall and skinny; unruly black hair framed his face and a strange, lightning-shaped scar adorned his forehead. He didn't look like he was much of a fighter, but there was a weariness in his gaze as though he was an old soul inside a young body. Dean recognised this look – he wore it himself. This boy had seen death far too many times, he had suffered and he had fought. It wouldn't do to underestimate him.
The girl… Dean swallowed thickly. She was beautiful; deep hazel eyes and chestnut curls. She held up her palms as if to calm a rogue horse, or as if to surrender. She didn't look like a fighter at all.
Only now did he realise that both the men held wooden sticks in front of them as if they were swords, weapons.
It was the girl – Hermione, Dean reminded himself – who spoke first, "Um, Sam and Dean Winchester? We're here to ask for your help." She made a tentative step forward, ignoring the way the black-haired boy tried to shield her with his body. Her gaze was honest and open. "We mean you no harm. And we're sorry we broke into your house."
She nudged the boy beside her, who cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah, sorry."
Suddenly, all thoughts about attacking them vanished from Dean's mind. Normally, he was the suspicious one, but something about the vulnerability, the honesty, in the eyes of the girl disarmed him.
"Who are you?" Sam barked, clearly still wary of the strangers.
"I'm Harry Potter," the boy declared as though it was supposed to mean something to them. When neither of the Winchesters reacted, he continued with the introductions, "This is Alastor Moody, but most call him Mad-Eye. And –"
"I'm Hermione Granger," the girl said with a faint smile.
"Dean Winchester," Dean replied. "This is my brother Sam. How did you find us?"
"We've been in contact with Bob Singer. He directed us to you," Mad-Eye grunted. "We have a little monster problem on our side of the ocean."
Dean and Sam exchanged meaningful glances. So these people knew about their profession. And they knew Bobby.
"How's Carol, his wife?" Sam inquired innocently.
"Oh, I don't believe we met her," Harry replied. "We didn't even know he had a wife."
"He doesn't," Mad-Eye said, the corners of his mouth twitching. "Any other tests before you trust us?"
From somewhere, Dean produced his silver knife. The people in front of him reacted immediately. Their postures tensed, ready to attack, and now Hermione had a wooden stick in her hand as well. It must be some kind of weapon.
"Whoa," Dean murmured calmingly. "Silver. Touch it please."
The boy was the first to lower the stick and grab the knife. "Fine. See?"
He handed it to the girl, who gave it to Mad-Eye.
"Satisfied?" Hermione asked.
"Almost," Sam smiled crookedly, throwing Holy Water in her face.
"What the –" she spluttered, wiping her wet face. "What was that for?"
"Not a demon either, then," Sam replied. "You can never be too careful."
"We're human!" the black-haired boy protested.
"Prove it." Sam handed him the flask with Holy Water, which he promptly took.
"Now what?" he asked dryly. "Do I need to throw it in my face as well or do hands work just fine?"
"Hands are fine," Sam replied.
After the two men had proven themselves un-possessed, Dean started to relax. "Okay. You say you're here because you need our help. What kind of help? Are there no British hunters who can deal with it?"
"Um…" Harry's gaze wandered between the two brothers. "It's kind of a long story. Why don't we sit down?"
Dean didn't move an inch.
Mad-Eye sighed. "Why not make it difficult?" He shook his head, eyeing Dean closely. "You're going to be trouble, aren't you?"
Dean swallowed nervously, feeling the blue eye seeing right through him, x-raying him. He felt naked and utterly exposed.
"Fine," he gave in. "As long as you put those sticks or whatever they are away, I'll play nice."
"These… oh. I guess there's something else we need to tell you," Harry said, exchanging glances with the others. "These are our wands. We're wizards. Well, Hermione's a witch, of course."
As soon as the word witch had left the boy's mouth, the Winchesters reacted. While Sam dove for his gun, Dean launched himself forward and grabbed Hermione. Not only because she was closest to him, but also because the other two would do anything to protect her. One arm slung around her chest, he held her close; the other hand pressed the silver knife to her throat. If only it were iron.
Witches! That explained how they'd managed to break into the bunker.
"I knew you'd be trouble. Let her go!" Mad-Eye demanded. "Or you'll end up a squirrel, boy."
Sam had reached his gun and pointed it at the two intruders. "Your magic doesn't scare us. What do you really want? Our Grimoire?"
"We don't want anything from you other than your help," Hermione replied before the others could. She didn't sound at all afraid although the knife sat dangerously on her skin. "I can make you let go, but I'd rather you'd trust us enough to release me."
"Why did you hide your identities?" Sam demanded.
"We didn't – at least not on purpose. We're not used to explaining this to Muggles – people without magic," Harry replied quickly, his voice had a panicked edge to it. He was watching Hermione closely, and a moment later, Dean understood why.
The girl began to shake all over, but she was fighting it. Her right hand had clawed into her left arm so violently, he could see droplets of blood seeping through her shirt.
"Please, put the knife down," the boy begged. "We don't want to force you, but we will."
"Harry…" Hermione warned, her voice tremulous, but he paid no heed.
"Dean," Sam said softly.
Dean looked over at his brother, and a mutual understanding passed between them. Swiftly, he put the knife down, stepping away from the girl who swayed dangerously. Her knees buckled, but the black-haired boy was there in time to catch her.
"It's okay, Hermione," he murmured lowly, but Dean could still hear him. "Bellatrix isn't here. We're safe, far away from the Manor. Do you hear me? We're safe."
Dean had seen this kind of reactions before, but normally they occurred in war veterans or trauma victims. What had happened to the girl – to all of them – that made them react so strongly?
"Here are our wands. A peace offering of sort," Harry suddenly said, turning back to Sam, who still had his gun levelled at them. He pushed two wooden sticks – his own and Hermione's – over to Sam and signalled at Mad-Eye to do the same. The older man grudgingly obeyed.
"Okay, now that we're at your mercy – will you let us explain?"
Dean nodded after exchanging glances with Sam.
They took seats around the war room table. Hermione had calmed down, but her breathing was still erratic and she was as pale as a ghost.
"Do you want some water?" Sam offered.
"Yes, please," she replied, her voice trembling.
After Sam had returned, Harry began to explain about the magic they possessed; about the Statute of Secrecy; about a war Dean didn't even have the faintest understanding of - so his instincts had been right, there had been a war; about a dark wizard who called himself Voldemort; and finally, the heart of the matter – the monsters, creatures, that the Ministry of Magic was unable to contain.
"And that's where you come in," Harry concluded. "We need your help identifying and hunting them. We want you to train us and other Aurors."
Dean wanted to protest, wanted to say that it was impossible to train a bunch of rookies in hunting monsters in only a few weeks, that they couldn't just travel all over the world to help someone. But then his gaze fell on Hermione and he silenced himself.
These people had come from the other side of the globe, on a leap of faith, hoping to find help. Who was he to reject them?
Sam's expression mirrored his own thoughts, and the decision fell as easily as this.
"Hunting monsters on the other side of the world?" Dean nodded, then smiled crookedly. "Let's go kick some ass!"
*Written for THC, Year 3, Round 4*
House: Ravenclaw
Year: 1
Category: Bonus Round
Prompts: Supernatural Crossover, Mad-Eye Moody, "YOU'RE GOING TO BE TROUBLE, AREN'T YOU?" Speech
W/C: 2, 986
Beta(s): 2D, Holly
Please let me know if I should continue this. Thank you! :)
