Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter.

The '67 Chevy Impala basked in the November sun as it cruised down the open road. Every once and a while, Dean would spare a side glance at Sam, half expecting to see an empty passenger seat. Sam had resumed hunting little over a week ago, and Dean was still trying to process it. For three years, Sam had been away at Stanford, and it felt great to be hunting with his younger brother again. Even under the not so pleasant circumstances.

Sam didn't talk about Jessica much. Whenever Dean brought it up he'd like to shake off the subject, and pretend he was perfectly fine. But Dean saw right through him. The truth was, Sam wasn't taking it well. The twenty-two year old hardly slept, and when he did, it wasn't without his fair share of nightmares. Dean had lost count of the times he'd heard Sam mutter Jessica in his sleep, and it worried him. Dean knew it wouldn't take a couple of days for Sam to get over his girlfriend's murder. But it was something Sam needed to cope with. If not for his own sake, then for Jessica's.

For the meantime, slaying things that go bump in the night seemed to be a good distraction. Sure, they'd only hunted a Woman in White and a Wendigo, but it was enough to get Sam back in the swing of things. Besides, there were plenty more hunts awaiting them.

In fact, the two brothers were headed for a case. Earlier that morning, at a small cafe, Dean and Sam had read an obituary in the paper. Sophie Carlton, a varsity swimmer, had drowned in Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin, a week ago, and she wasn't the first. So, the Winchesters climbed into the Impala, or 'Baby' as Dean calls it, and were soon on their way to check out the case for themselves.

"You've been thunderstruck!" Dean belt out, pointing a finger at Sam. He sang dreadfully, and his voice cracked at certain pitches.

Sam winced. "How much further?" He asked, mentally debating if he should shut off the AC/DC and face Dean's wrath. He really couldn't take anymore 'mullet rock' hits.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, about fifteen minutes?"

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah…" Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw something on the pavement ahead. He turned his attention back to the road, to get a better look. It seemed to be some sort of dead animal. A rabbit maybe? Sam squinted, and stiffened as he realized what it was. His eyes widened, and he yelled out, "Dean!"

Dean jumped, surprised at the alarm in Sam's voice. "What?"

He followed Sam's gaze, and his jaw dropped. There was a little girl sprawled out on the ground ahead. "Holy shit!" He cursed, slamming his foot on the breaks. The Impala skid a couple miles, before slowing to a complete stop.

For a moment, Sam and Dean sat there, breathing heavily. Another line of 'Thunderstruck' broke the silence. Dean responded by spinning the volume dial to mute. Their hearts still racing, the Winchesters glanced at each other and simultaneously exit the Impala. The doors slamming behind them.

"Did I hit her?" Dean asked, worry in his tone.

Sam gulped. "I hope not."

The two brothers ran to the young girl's side. They couldn't see any blood, cuts, or bruises. Hell, she could have been sleeping. "I didn't hit her?"

Sam knelt beside the girl and placed two fingers on the side of her neck, checking for a pulse. "I think she's okay." He concluded, relieved.

Dean took a step back, looking her over. She was about eleven years old, with long brown curls strewn around her. The pink hoodie and jeans she wore were caked in dry mud. Whatever happened, had been recent. At least an hour or two ago.

Her small hands were clenched into tight fists, and when she shifted, her head lolled to the opposite side.

Dean glanced at Sam. "Hey, I think she's waking up."

Mere seconds after he'd spoken, the girl groaned, struggling to sit up. Sam helped support her, placing a hand on her small back. Her eyes fluttered open, revealing pupils; a striking brown shade. She remained still and calm, but her eyes gave her away. They were large like a doe's, and Sam could tell she was terrified.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She blinked several times, still not fully conscious. After processing what Sam had said, she gave a small nod. "I… I think so." She managed to stutter out. Sam gave her a small smile. She had an adorable British accent.

"Why don't you grab a water bottle?" Sam suggested to Dean. Who knew how long she'd been out here?

Dean eyed the girl and nodded.

Sam let out a breath of air, and twisted to face her again. There were no visible injuries, and it didn't seem like any internal damage had befallen her either. As far as he could tell, she was all right. "You gave us quite the scare." He commented.

"I did?" She asked, looking up at Sam with her big brown eyes.

Dean scoffed, returning from the trunk of the Impala, a plastic water bottle in hand. "I'll say, you were three seconds away from being a human pancake." Sam glared at Dean. "What?"

Rolling his eyes, Sam turned back to the girl, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "What were you doing out on the road?" He asked.

She paused, and broke eye contact as she fought to remember. "I… I don't know." She looked up at Sam, eyes wide. "I can't remember."

"Did you hit your head?" He asked, examining her.

"I don't think so." She replied, subconsciously checking to be sure.

"Where are your parents?" He questioned further.

She stayed silent, thinking. Sam saw her shoulders shake, as panic set in. "I d… don't know." She faltered, her eyes watering.

"It's okay." Sam reassured her, rubbing her back gently. Dean used to do the same thing to him, whenever he thought John wouldn't make it back to them. He figured if it had worked on him, maybe it would help the girl as well.

She relaxed slightly, and the flow of tears seemed to lessen. Sam gave her a small smile. "Can you tell us your name?"

She nodded, and stuttered, "H...Hermione."

Dean unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, and knelt beside Hermione. He held it out to her, and she accepted it. She raised it up to her lips and slowly took a sip from it.

"Hermione, we're going to help you, okay?"

"Okay."

Dean glanced between Sam and Hermione. "Sam, can I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, eyeing Hermione.

Sam frowned, noticing Dean's discomfort. "Uh, yeah, sure." He turned to Hermione. "We'll be right back."

Dean led Sam to the back end of the Impala, and lent against the trunk. Sam crossed his arms over his chest, and sighed. "Dean, what is this about?"

Dean's jaw dropped. "What's this about? What the hell are you doing?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I dunno, being helpful?" Sam suggested, his head bobbing around, reminding Dean of a teenaged drama queen having a meltdown.

"We're working a job." Dean pointed out.

"And our job is to help people!" Sam shot back. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair; a bad habit. "Look, we're fifteen minutes from Lake Manitoc. Maybe her parents are there?"

Dean hesitated. "Well, what the hell's she doing way out here?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

The rest of the drive to Lake Manitoc was spent in silence. Hermione sat in the backseat, and Sam would regularly look back to check on her. He knew she was okay, but there was still a part of him that constantly worried about her. She was clueless, and scared, which chipped at his heart.

Dean however, didn't even look at the kid through the rearview mirror. He kept his eyes on the road, and Sam was sure he was pretending Hermione didn't exist. Or maybe he was still mad about the cassettes. Which would explain the constant tapping of his fingers, and why he was humming a Led Zeppelin song.

At Sam's insistence, Dean had turned off his classic rock n' roll, saying it was inappropriate for Hermione. Dean, of course, argued that kids love AC/DC, and that the colorful words they learned were an added bonus. After a challenge of rock, paper, scissors, however, AC/DC was no more. Sam honestly didn't know why Dean continued to choose scissors every time. But it didn't matter, the music was off, and they were on their way to helping Hermione.

Or so they thought.

Once they had reached the area, and started asking around for Hermione's family, it became apparent that no one knew who she was. Which was quite frustrating.

Dean knelt down on one knee to match the height of Hermione, who was seated in the backseat of the Impala. She looked at him, her eyes big and sad. She was lost, and confused, and Dean felt for her. He'd never tell Sam this, but there had been a few times when he was younger, where he and John had been separated on a hunting trip. Sometimes he'd spend a few days alone before they found each other. He could still remember the fear, and no matter how reserved Hermione was, he knew she felt it too.

"You still don't remember anything?" He asked, hoping her amnesia would only be temporary.

She shook her head.

Dean sighed. This didn't make any sense. No bump to the head, no friggin' injury at all. He didn't have any more ideas. What would happen to Hermione now? Would they just send her off to an orphanage? They couldn't find her family, and she didn't remember a damn thing. All she did was sit there, and act all sweet and innocent...

"Sam, get the holy water."

Sam frowned, not getting it. Dean jerked his head in Hermione's direction. Sam's eyes widened when he finally realized what Dean meant. "You don't think she's…"

"Possessed?" Dean ended for him. "Have to check all possibilities, Sammy." He eyed Hermione, a shiver running down his spine.

Sam sighed, and handed Dean a flask of holy water. Hermione glanced between the two brothers, confused. "What are you doing?"

"Just checking some things, you'll be fine." Sam assured her.

"Yeah, if you don't have anything to hide." Dean added, aware that Sam was glaring at him.

Dean took hold of her hand, and poured the holy water on her skin. The two brothers watched anxiously, but nothing happened. "Salt." Dean ordered, tossing aside the flask. Sam rolled his eyes, and handed Dean the salt. He took a handful, and dropped it on Hermione's hand. Again, nothing unusual happened.

Sam knew what was next, silver. "Dean…"

"Knife."

Hermione's eyes widened. "K...knife?" She stuttered, fearful.

"Just hold still, it'll only be a small cut."

Sam hesitated before handing Dean the knife. He ran the blade across the girl's small hand. She cringed, watching as the blood trickled through her fingers. Tears fell down her cheeks, and she let out a small whine of pain. But the silver did nothing abnormal to her.

Dean frowned, taking a step away. As far as they could tell, she was human.

Sam took Dean's place, kneeling beside the girl. He smiled gently, and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Hey, it's over. I promise. No more…" He glared at Dean. "Tests."

"Sam, can I talk to you?"

"One minute." Sam took a cloth, and handed it to Hermione. "Put some pressure on it, okay?"

She nodded, and Sam grinned. "You're very brave." He whispered. She beamed.

Dean cleared his throat, and after rolling his eyes, Sam followed him to the front of the impala.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "So, she's not a demon, she's not a ghost, not a werewolf, and definitely not a vampire or she'd be burnt as hell." Dean counted off on his fingers. "She's human."

"Do you think maybe she was possessed? That's why she couldn't remember anything?"

Dean shook his head. "That crossed my mind too, but she wouldn't have forgotten everything, Sam. She would have been conscious for parts of it. Unless, maybe she's hiding something from us?"

"No, I don't think so." Sam disagreed. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "What do we do now, Dean?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, but we've got a case to do, man, and there's no way in hell she's working it with us."

"Okay then, let's hand her over to the sheriff." Sam suggested, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Beats tagging along with us."

"Dean!"

"Then what do we do, Sam?" Dean asked, his tone serious. "I'm as clueless as you."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe it'd be best if she tagged along…"

Dean's green eyes widened. "What? Are you nuts?"

"Just hear me out. Whatever happened to her wasn't natural. It was…" He paused, searching for the right word. "Supernatural. We don't know if anything was after her. It'd be a whole lot safer for her to stay with us. Don't you think?"

Dean sighed. He didn't want to admit it, but Sam had a point. "Fine." He gave in. "Let's go check out the Carltons."

A/N: The ideas you get at one in the morning... Thanks for reading! I haven't quite caught up with Supernatural yet so if I get any important facts/details wrong, I apologize! Reviews encourage me to write faster!