Authors Notes: Okay so the way that this story ends kind of leaves it open.

Warnings: Brief mentions of death

Across the Pond

It had been his choice in the end, his decision to leave his homeland and to make his way across the pond. Everything was so different in the states than in England, different, yet so liberating. He didn't have to worry about much as it was a dead-land for his kind. The chances of him running into someone who knew who he was, of his fame, was slim to none. When he was new to the country he had been cautious of how much magic he used. Foolishly he had believed that someone would be able to track him by his magic.

Normally it would be true, that someone would be able to track another by their magic alone. Every person had a different magical signature, but it changed ever so slightly with the magic they used. With the right training, someone would be able to tell what kind of magic another used by simply the residue of a spell. Magic also never left, the signature didn't leave until several years after a spell had been cast. There was a special department in The Ministry that turned the residue magic into enchantments against muggles. It was this residue that caused the ceiling at Hogwarts to look like the sky, and that caused muggles to stay away from The Leaky Cauldron.

In the dead-zone known in America however, the residue did something else entirely, something that he found out for himself. It changed things, changing those of a magical nature so that they were warped from what they once were. Werewolves ate hearts, ghosts were violent, creatures of every kind changed from what they should have been. The first time that Harry found out about the changes had been on the eve of the full moon. With Remus being a werewolf, he had been cautious, overly so when he stepped out into the alley that night.

There had been some strange deaths and only he had really picked up that it was around the night of the full moon. Deciding that something had to be done, Harry had taken his wand along with a silver knife to take care of it. It was also when he met his first hunter, a muggle who used nonmagical means to hunt the supernatural. The man had saved him from being the werewolf's next lunch as he hadn't been expecting it to look so... human and had frozen.

Dean Winchester saved his life that night, along with his brother Sam. He had been shocked when Harry had looked to the body of the werewolf confused, hovering over it as it died. With his right-hand Harry brushed the woman's' face as she died and whispered that she would be better where she was going. Sam, who he later found out the name to, seemed to be touched in some way by the display. Harry had invited them back to his flat, a place for them to talk.

Sam had been the one that agreed for him and his brother, and after an awkward drive in the back of their car, they made it. The apartment wasn't much; a bedroom, livingroom, and kitchen. The living room doubled as his study and there was a small desk off to the side. Bookshelves covered his walls, some magical, but charmed to look normal, and some muggle.

Hermione had helped him decorate his last place and he had used the same idea for this one. With the money that he had inherited he knew he could buy a bigger place, but this one suited his needs well. Offering the two men something to drink he got them both a beer and himself a bottle of water before they sat in the living room. The silence between them seemed to stretch before Sam took the lead in the conversation.

Without prompting he explained who they were, what they did and what it was exactly that they hunted. For the first time, Harry was thankful that he only used his magic in moderation. Dean, however, noticed how pale he became, how his skin turned white at the mention of them hunting witches. As carefully as he could, Harry made sure that his wand was easily reachable up his sleeve before he tried to smile. He didn't fool either of them.

In the next moment, he found himself jumping back from the two men with his wand in his hand. Dean had pulled a gun on him while Harry noticed that Sam was trying to calm his brother down. Nobody moved for the longest time, not until Dean tried to convince his brother that the witch should be killed. Harry even while afraid was not about to let someone kill him because of his magic, the equivalent to an anti-Voldemort.

"I'll have you know that I am no witch, I'm a wizard... see no breasts? Wizard."

His explanation seemed to shock them out of whatever funk Dean was in as he looked at him slightly different. With his gun cocked he asked Harry the strangest question.

"Why did you do it? Why did you sell your soul to the demon? For what? A little black magic? It's not right."

Harry for the life of him could not figure out what Dean was asking him. As far as he knew demons were only in children horror stories. He supposed that it would make sense considering what he was that they could exist as well. Why would anyone sell their soul to such a creature though? There was no way that it could turn out well for the human. Speaking his thoughts out loud caused Dean to lower his gun and for Sam to smile slightly at him.

"Kid, you mean to tell me that you're not a spell-casting, demon-worshipping witch?"

Glaring at the man before him Harry sighed before he shook his head, his wand lowered slightly, but ready.

"For the last time, it's wizard get it? Male equals wizard, female equals witch. Yes, I can cast spells, have been able to since I went to Wizarding School at eleven, but I don't worship any demon. Hell, as far as I know, they shouldn't even exist. Not that I'm surprised, I've seen stranger."

Harry could see that Dean was trying to understand his story that he was different than the ones he supposed were hunted by the two before. Lowering his wand completely, Harry looked to the two hunters before him.

"Listen I don't know about the witches or wizards that you hunted before. Maybe they worshipped demons or something insane to get their powers, but that's not how it works back home. Back home a witch or wizard is born with their powers, normally from parents that have magic as well. Sometimes a child will have magic with non-magical or muggle parents, but I'm positive they didn't do any deal with demons. I happen to know a muggle-born witch and she is the most level-headed person I know."

Dean lowered his gun after he explained although Harry noticed that he kept it at easy access just in case. Harry smiled at the two men and sat back in the chair he had been occupying earlier. Bringing his water to his lips he drank some while waiting for the two hunters to sit back down. Once they were settled Harry explained his world, where he came from and about the magical world in general. With no ministry to arrest him he was happy to share the information to a muggle... after all, it could save someone's life.

In turn, Dean and Sam explained what they knew about the creatures they hunted. They told him about magical beings and how they changed from what he studied, how the wild magic affected them. By the time that they were done talking Harry felt like they were no longer going to try and kill him and invited them to spend the night. Instead, they explained that they already had a hotel and that they should be getting back as it was four in the morning.

While watching the two men leave Harry smiled to himself. With the knowledge that the two had given him along with a copy of their cell numbers, he wondered if he should try hunting. It wasn't like him to simply live as he had been since leaving home. He needed something to do; something to keep him busy, to keep his hero-complex happy. Looking at his small flat he checked the date, in three days he could inform his landlord that he was leaving.

It would be hard, he knew... after all, he wasn't trained to fight the creatures that they had here. Harry, he knew where he could get the training. Sam had said something about a man named Bobby. Maybe it was a hopeless cause, but he hoped that this Mr. Singer would be able to help him train... after all it could be fun.

Harry never knew what he was getting himself into, what he would end up doing to become a hunter. After all, John Winchester was a hard man to please, and a harder man to train with. But it was worth it.

P.S. If you want to keep up to date on my writing add me to Facebook, Tumbler, Twitter or Instagram as CrowNoYami ;-) Also, if you want to see what I'm reading (I always review so you know what you're getting into) I'm on Goodreads as well, the same name as always.