A/N; Any text you recognize is not owned by me. I either took it directly from the book/movie(HP), or from the TV Show(SPN).
This starts at the end of Season 2, All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2.
I looked up timelines for the whole thing, and the concrete thing I got was this; Sam was resurrected on his birthday, which, coincidentally, is May 2nd, the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. I also got that it all went down 2007, same year Harry was promoted to Head of the Auror Office. Using these coincidences, I wrote this up.
Any suggestions for a new title? I'm usually horrible at those, but there are those rare moments when I come up with a good one. Personally, I hate the one up now, so if any of you have a better one, I'd much appreciate it if you told it to me!
Anyways, on with the story.
Chapter One
Vision
9 Years Ago
May 2nd, 1998
"Bellatix was right. You have to mean it."
"Coward! COWARD!"
"That was Potter!"
"Harry Potter!"
"It was him, I swear, I just saw him!"
"I know who he is and I know what he's done! He defiled it! With dark magic!"
"That's my wand you're holding, Potter."
"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, HARRY!"
"No- no- no! No, Fred, NO!
"He's in the Shrieking Shack. The snake's with him, it's got some sort of magical protection around it. He's just sent Lucius Malfoy to find Snape."
"My Lord-"
"Only I can live forever."
"Take... it... Take... it..."
"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour by the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of the hour, you have not come to me, have not give yourself up, then the battle recomences."
"So the boy... The boy must die?"
"Yes. Yes, he must die."
"You have kept him alive so he could die at the proper moment. You've been raising him like a pig for slaughter!"
"After all this time?"
"Always."
"Kill the snake?"
"Kill the snake."
"We're gonna keep fighting, Harry. You know that?"
"I thought he would come... I was, it seems, mistaken."
"You weren't."
"HARRY, NO! NO! NO! HARRY, WHAT'RE YEH-?"
"Harry Potter... The Boy Who Lived... AVADA KEDAVRA!"
"Of course this is all happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"
"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"
"Yes."
"He is dead!"
"NO!"
"Harry! HARRY!"
"He beat you!"
"I'll join you when hell freezes over!"
"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!"
"Harry! HE'S ALIVE!"
"Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle..."
"What is this?"
"It's your one last chance."
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Expelliarmus!"
"I don't want it."
"What? Are you mental!"
"The Dark Lord... The Dark Lord is dead. The Dark Lord is dead."
Sam's eyes shot open. He looked up into the concerned eyes of his big brother, who had his hands on Sam's shoulders.
"Sammy?" Dean asked softly.
"Wha' happened?" Sam grumbles sleepily.
"You kept shaking and shouting. You okay?"
"I'm fine." Sam grumbles as he manages to get up.
"Good." Dean grins, before hitting Sam's shoulder.
"Hey!" Sam cries, rubbing the spot. "What was that for, jerk!"
"Happy fifteenth birthday, Sammy." Dean grinned before proceeding to hit Sam fourteen more times.
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's childish behavior. Seriously?
"Dude, I had the craziest dream." Sam says.
"About?" Dean asks as he sits back down on his own bed. Usually, he wouldn't give a damn what Sam dreamed or didn't dream about, but today was the kid's birthday, and, from the look in his eyes, he looked like he really needed to talk about it.
"Do witches use wands?" Sam replies with a question of his own, his eyebrows scrunched in wonder.
"What?" Dean says confused.
"I..." Sam wasn't sure if he wanted to say. After all, it wasn't normal. It was strange, weird. Sam did not want to be strange. He did not want to be weird. He did not want to be a freak.
"You can tell me, Sam." Dean sits up on his bed, his expression serious.
"It was nothing. Where's dad?" Sam decides to drop the subject. After all, witches with wands? And broomsticks? And some strange nose-less monster? It had to have all been some crazy-ass dream Sam had had due to their... 'Life style'.
"Uh..." Dean looks down.
"Where is he?" Sam demands.
"He left last night in a hurry. Said there was something he needed to wrap up. Look, Sam, I'm sorr-"
"Don't." Sam waves it off. He should have known his dad would have left. Better, actually. At least this way they both wouldn't end up red and screaming at one another.
Dean sighed but didn't comment. Instead, he layed back down in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "What was that dream about?" he tries again.
"Nothing." Sam lies.
"Sammy."
"Dude, just drop it."
"You can tell me."
"It doesn't matter."
"Of course it matters, you screamed frigging twice and had me scared out of my ass, and you think that's nothing?" Dean snaps.
"Dean, please..."
Dean shots his brother a look, sighs one last time, then gets up. "Come on, what do you wanna do today?"
"Sleep." Sam grumbles as he lays his head back on the pillow.
Dean smiles a bit before yawning. Come to think of it, that might not be such a bad idea... He lays back down, and his eyes are closed before his head even hits his own pillow.
April 29th, 2007
Sam panted heavily, glancing down at the unconscious form of Jake Talley. He let the metal bar drop from his hands. He wasn't a killer. He wasn't about to kill this man in cold blood, especially when Jake was convinced this was what he had to do.
Tired, he turned and began walking the other way. The Acheri demon was gone. There was nothing left to keep him locked and contained here anymore.
Then, the biggest relief in the world.
"Sam?"
"Dean!"
There they are, Dean and Bobby, coming to the rescue. Sam can't believe it. To be honest, he hadn't even let himself hope of ever seeing the other two alive again. But, apparently Andy's message had managed to get across. He smiles. Smiles like he hasn't in so long, because for once, everything is alright, for once, there's hope, there's-
"Sam, look out!"
Stab. The knife penetrates itself into Sam's back as Jake pushes it through, ripping past the spinal cord as he mercilessly strikes the other down.
Sam gives a miserable grunt of pain as it rips through him.
"NO!" Dean screams, his eyes widening in complete and utter horror. This can't be happening. It cannot be happening. No, no, no! Everything seems to freeze, the whole world is going gray, everything is ending even as Dean speeds forward, his eyes locked on his baby brother, on the pain screaming forward out of Sam's eyes.
Jake twists the knife in place, making sure the wound is fatal, making sure there is no way little Sammy can survive this can, can come out of it alive and still breathing. Sam grunts again, before Jake pulls the knife out, blood falling from the tip. Sam falls to his knees, his eyes closed from the pain, the burning filling every inch of his mind.
Dean rushed to him and drops on his knees, gripping his little brother's front as Bobby, rifle in hand, chases after Jake.
"No. Sam. Whoa, Sam, Sam." Dean's still in denial. Sam can't die, right? He holds up his little brother as Sam begins to go limp in his arms. "Sam, hey."
Jake runs and runs, but Bobby doesn't take the shot. He runs straight after the other, but Bobby's old and Jake is not. Jake is faster, Jake is stronger, and, try as he might, Bobby is too slow, and, despite knowing he won't catch the other, the aged hunter isn't about to give in just yet.
"Hey, let me look at you." Dean says, before patting the spot on Sam's back where the knife penetrated him. He lifts his fingers and they're covered in blood. Sam begins to close his eyes. He's dying. Dying, and there is nothing Dean can do about it.
"Hey, it's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, alright? Sammy? Sam! Hey, we're gonna patch you up. You'll be good as new. I'm gonna take care of you- I'm gonna take care of you... That's my job, right? Watch out for my pain-in-the-ass little brother? Sam? Sam? Sam. Sammy?"
Sam gives out one last rasped breath. There's blood in his mouth. His body, already sagging goes limp, completely limp. Unmoving, his arms falling at his side, eyes closing shut as his heart gives its last bitter beat.
"No... No... NO! No, no, no, no, no! Oh, God. Oh, God! SAM!" Dean screams as he holds on still to the dead form of his little brother. He failed. He failed. It was his job to protect Sammy, and he- he failed... He failed and Sam is dead. Dean's heart gives a horrible lurch as he feels himself shatter. As he feels himself, as he feels his everything, come down in a brutal clash, and he can't take it. It's breaking him and he can't take it. Because Sam is gone. Sam is dead. Sam is... Sam is...
Harry gasped as his eyes shot open. He stared at the sleeping face of his wife. Ginny's red curls rested on the bed, her eyes closed, looking so peaceful. He turned away from her, gazing up at the ceiling.
What the hell just happened?
And who was this 'Sam'? Who where all those people? He rolled over once more, deciding he would look into it in the morning. It was strange, but he couldn't just wave it off as nothing. After all, when a wizard had dreams like this, they usually meant something, because that was far too descriptive to be anything less than a premonition.
May 2nd, 2007
"Harry, hurry up!" Ginny called.
"Do we really have to go?" Harry called back as he put on a single boot before proceeding to the other.
"We're the guests of honor!" Ginny reminded him.
"Exactly! Cameras and stares!" Harry countered.
Ginny entered the room, holding little baby Albus in her arms, smiling and rolling her eyes fondly at her husbands antics.
Harry rose from the bed, fastening on his robe before turning to her. "You look beautiful..." he whispers as he walks up to her and kisses her softly.
This makes baby Albus fuss at the two of them, causing both parents to smile down at the baby boy.
"I swear, if I didn't know any better I'd say he was your clone." Ginny speaks.
Harry just shrugged to this statement.
"Can't we just stay home, have our own little celebration? I'll even cook the dinner." Harry offered.
"Nice try. You are getting your ass over there if I have to drag it, Potter." Ginny told him sternly.
Harry pouted. "Please?"
"Hermione will kill you if you don't show up. Kingsley is promoting her, remember? To Head of Magical Law Enforcement. And you too, remember? Head Auror, what you've been working on for years?" Ginny said.
"Doesn't mean I have to like press conferences. Or being forced to attend a Ministry Ball on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts." Harry countered with touch of annoyance on his tongue.
"Harry..."
"Fine. Is James-"
"Yes, we're just waiting for you."
"Fine." Harry sighed. He hated social situations. It wasn't that he was anti-social, he wasn't. It was being stared at by hundreds that really got him going. I mean, come on, seriously? Still, after 16 years of it, it still got to him like nothing else.
But, after all, he was getting promoted. And so was Hermione. The Prophet was going to have a bloody field day with this one... Though, luckily, the reporters had yet to discover where the Potter's had set up home base, so maybe, just maybe-
"Is that Harry Potter?"
"What, where?"
"There!"
Harry quickly turned and began to walk the other way, ignoring those who began running towards him. He reached the car, where Ginny was strapping in Albus. Quickly getting into the driver's side, Harry started up the car, and, before a single word could be said, they were off.
Leaving dozens of fans behind.
"Harry Potter!" some of them cried.
"Isn't that some book?" a Muggle girl whispered to her friend.
"Last I heard it was..." the other girl replied.
Both stared off in confusion at the ever escaping car down the roads and streets of Ottery St. Catchpole.
"Dean... I hate to bring this up. I really do. But don't you think that maybe it's time... We bury Sam?" Bobby suggested in a low, soft voice, a heavy contrast to his usual demeanor. It's been two days, and Dean... He's breaking down, as anyone would expect him to. Bobby doesn't want to be the one to suggest it, but, quiet frankly, someone has to and Dean obviously is not up to it.
Dean looked up and stared at Bobby blankly. He looked dead, worse than dead. His brother was everything to him. All he had left. And now little Sammy was gone, because Dean had been too slow. He got there too late. He got there too late and Sammy was dead because of it, because of him.
"No." Dean responds. He can't even think of... of... He shifts his mind away from it. He's too broken to really care, at this point. He just sits back down, looking away from Bobby, from his surrogate father.
"We could..." Bobby sighs. "Maybe-"
"What, torch his corpse?" Dean interrupts coldly. "Not yet."
"I want you to come with me." Bobby tells Dean, his voice dipped in concern and worry.
"I'm not going anywhere." Dean tells him simply in a tone that leaves no room for argument.
"Dean, please-" Bobby begins.
"Won't you cut me some slack? Dean snaps without any heat, with that same broken tone. The light in his eyes has gone out. He's already dead, the only difference between him and a corpse is that his heart is still beating. Slowly, softly, barely audible. Because he doesn't want it. He doesn't want to be alive, he doesn't want to go on. What's the point, anyways? Sam is dead. Sam is dead and he isn't coming back.
"I just don't think you should be alone, that's all." Bobby quickly says. "I gotta admit, I could use your help."
Dean just scoffs and refuses to look at the other.
"Something big is going down- End of the World big." Bobby continues.
"Well then, let it end!" Dean explodes, looking up to glare at the old man.
"You don't mean that..." Bobby says.
Dean shot up from the chair quick as lightning, his green eyes burning with fire. "You don't think so?" he whispers in a voice far too low and far too calm as he has a staring contest with Bobby. "Huh?" Bobby's eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open. He's lost Sam... He can't loose Dean, too. The two of them are like sons to him. There were times when he practically raised them. He just lost one, he can't even begin to think of loosing both of them, he just-
"You don't think I've given enough?" Dean continues mercilessly. Bobby looks down for a second before forcing himself to look back up at that scorching gaze. "You don't think I've paid enough? I'm done with it. All of it." Dean says calmly. His tone is absolute. Nothing. Nothing can change his mind, nothing can shift his opinion, his will. Because he is done. Completely and absolutely done. "And if you know what's good for you, you turn around and get the hell out of here." when Bobby doesn't move, Dean's temper explodes. "GO!" he shoves him, pushed him hard, causing bobby to fall back as Dean's glare intensifies.
Bobby just stares at the other. He can't bring himself to say anything, to do anything. He just stands there, and stares sadly at Dean. Neither speak. No words. Nothing. Just silence.
"I'm sorry." Dean finally breaks the silence.
Bobby nods. Barely, but he nods, to show he understands. Faint and barely there, but just enough.
"I'm sorry..." Dean repeats, before turning to look at the other way. He can't look at Bobby. He just can't. Because if there is one thing Dean Winchester knows, it is this; he can't. He can't go out without Sam. As pathetic as it makes him feel, he needs his little brother. Needs him desperately. He can't go on without him, and that's a fact. "Please, just go." he tells Bobby without looking at him.
Bobby turns as well, towards the door. He sighs one last time. "You know where I'll be..." and with that, he departs.
Dean looks down, before glancing over at the dead form of his brother. A tear falls from his eyes. His mind is set. He has to. He has no other choice...
"Harry, are you sure you're okay?" Ginny asked him softly. They, along with Hermione, Ron, Neville, and a few other Ministry officials, were all sitting around a round table decorated with a white table cloth and covered in foods that made your mouth just water at the sight of them.
"Yeah... Just a headache." Harry tells her before taking a piece of meat and shoving it into his mouth, being careful to take as long as possible to chew.
"You're lying." she hisses in his ear.
"It's nothing."
"Harry..."
"Can it wait 'till we get home, Gin, please?" Harry pleads.
Ginny sighs and just nods, looking away.
Harry resists the urge to grip at his skull. What is it with this headache? That's not what worries him most, though. What worries him is what's hurting. It's his scar. Last time that happened... But this time, he knows it's different. He can feel that it's different. It isn't Voldemort.
For some reason, that scares him so much more...
"When you were little, couldn't have been more than five, you just started asking questions." Dean spoke to the corpse, a sad smile tasting it's way onto his lips. It was bitter and broken. "How come we didn't have a mom? Why did we always have to move around? Where's Dad? I remember I begged you: "Quit asking, Sammy. You don't want to know.'" Dean shook his head slightly at the memories, looking at the body, praying, hoping, his brother would get up, that Sam would just rise, get off that table, and be alright. That this was all just a nightmare, a dream, and none of it was real.
But he knew it wasn't. Still, he pressed on as he continued to speak to his brother.
"I just wanted you to be a kid, just for a little while longer. Always tried to protect you. Keep you safe. Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I had one job. I had one job, and I screwed it up." Dean's voice cracked. Tears threatened to gush down his face once more, and he didn't even bother to try and wipe them away. "I blew it, and for that, I'm sorry. I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. You know, I let Dad down, and now I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with that? What am I supposed to do? Sammy? What am I suppose to do?"
No answer. It's not going to come, and Dean knows it. He knows it and he hates it.
"What am I suppose to do!" Dean screamed. Tears fell down his cheeks. His eyes were red. He hadn't even cried this much when dad had died. but Sammy... It was his job to take care of the damn kid, his job to keep him safe, to keep him from harm's way. It always had been. It had always been his responsibility. He'd practically raised the damn kid!
And he failed.
Sam was dead, because Dean was a failure and he messed everything up. Sammy was dead. Sammy was dead because of him.
And here he was, loosing his mind, talking to a corpse, desperately hoping it would talk back. But Sam couldn't, because Sam was gone and nothing could bring him ba-
Wait... There was one thing that could... But... Yes, he had to. He failed Sam, and now he had to pay the price. He had to pay the price. He had to do what he had to do. He had to. He was worthless anyways. It was his only hope. He had to save Sammy, even if it meant sacrificing himself.
Bobby was going to kill him when he found out.
He rushed to the car, and is soon on his way.
On his way to make a damn deal with the Devil himself...
"Settle down, settle down!" Kinsgley called with a magically amplified voice. The voices hushed down as all turned their attention towards the Minister.
"Here it comes." Harry groaned, causing Ginny to step on his foot. Harry hissed slightly and shot her a look. Ginny just smirked at him and Harry couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes and smile.
Ron made a show of gagging, which, luckily, was not noticed by the majority in the Atrium.
"Nine years ago, on this date, 'Lord' Voldemort-" Kingsley began, causing several flinches and even a few glares to be sent his way. "Attacked Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on this very night. He threatened to destroy everything we hold dear and value. But he was stopped. He was stopped by three brave individuals, who sit here with us today. And it is my pleasure to introduce the new head of the Auror Office, Harry James Potter!"
Harry stood, as customary, and gave a fake smile as he waved and the hundred or so cheering witches and wizards, most of which he didn't even know. Some were complete foreigners. Faceless strangers from wizarding communities all over the planet.
Cameras flashed.
Harry had to make a conscious effort not to cringe.
"Five years. Five years and my bill comes do. That's my last offer- five years or no deal." Dean tells the Crossroads Demon with a poker face. But she can see past it. She can see into his heart. He'd give anything to get his brother back. She was going to press him for everything he had, and she knew she was going to get it.
But, taunting him. She couldn't resist.
She smiled at him, walking up slowly. She leans in seductively to seal their lips, to seal the deal. Or, at least, that's what the bitch makes him think.
"Then no deal." she whispers against his lips, before backing away.
"Fine." Dean continues his bluff.
"Fine." she repeats, still smiling. She then walks past him, leaving Dean behind. "Make sure you bury Sam before he starts stinking up the joint."
Dean curses in his head. He curses every damn swear word he knows. "Wait!" he calls. His voice cracks slightly.
The demon stops. Without looking at him, she speaks. "It's a fire sale and everything must go." with that, she turns back to face him.
"What do I have to do?" Dean pleads.
"First of all, quiet groveling." the demon says as she walks back to him. "Needy guys are such a turnoff." the two stare at one another. Dean looks like he's resisting the urge to strangle her. The demon sighs. "Look... I shouldn't be doing this. I could get in a lot of trouble. But what can I say, I have a blind spot for you, Dean. You're like a... Puppy. You're just too fun to play with." she sighs again. Maybe if Dean had been in a different state, maybe if he wasn't so broken and desperate, he would have seen. But he didn't and he couldn't, not here, not now. "I'll do it." she tells him.
"You'll bring him back?" Dean's voice holds a spark of hope. A spark, but just enough.
"I will." she nods. "And because I'm such a saint, I'll give you one year and one year only." Dean freezes for a second. A year? Then, he realizes something. He doesn't care. He doesn't give a damn. He's going to die anyways without Sam. "But here's the thing." the demon leans towards him seductively once more. "If you try to welch or weasel your way out, then the deal is off. Sam drops dead. He's back to rotten meat in no time." she outlines carefully. "So... That's a better deal than your dad ever got." she reminds him. "So, what do you say?"
He doesn't reply. Instead, he locks their lips together in a heated kiss, sealing the deal. Selling his soul, for now, and forever.
"Hermione Jean Granger, would you please stand as well?" Kinsgley called.
A blushing Hermione rose from her seat after Ron gave her a reassuring squeeze. More cheers.
"With the retirement of William Savage, former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I would like to present you all with out new Head of the Department!" Kinglsey called.
Hundreds cheered and as the applause filled the room. Hermione seemed to be handling it and Harry looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. Hunting down former Death Eaters and dark wizards? No problem. Hundreds staring at him? Kill. Him. Now.
Suddenly, his scar gave another tinge.
"I could throttle you, boy!"
"What, and send downstairs ahead of schedule?"
Harry blinks, the brief vision ending.
"Harry?" Ginny is tugging on his arm.
"Yeah?" he asks.
She nudges her head in Kingsley's direction. Harry looks up. "Yes?" he asks.
"I asked if there was anything you would like to say after achieving the position you've been working to get for nine years..." Kingley repeated.
"Oh! Oh, right... Well," Harry began.
"You take a shot at me, whatever you gotta do, but please... Don't tell him." Dean pleaded.
Bobby gripped him. Tears were in the old man's eyes, threatening to fall forth. That idjit! 'Now my life can mean something'? Mean something! The boy sacrificed his soul because he really had that low opinion of himself? He really hated him self that damn much? Damn Winchesters, sacrificing their souls for one another! Their one fatal weakness; each other. Family.
And now... Now Dean had gone off and sold his soul too, just like John. One year. One year and one year only.
That idjit!
Suddenly they heard noise. Both men stepped away from another and turned towards the source. Among the scraps and husks of dead cars, they could hear it. Someone was there. Dean and Bobby exchanged looks before, together, they both went to investigate.
Then, out of nowhere, she came. Tears in her eyes, she looked broken.
"Ellen?" Dean breathed. The woman just nodded once before Dean brought her into his embrace, refusing to let the older woman go. True, they hadn't known each other for very long, but... She was like a mother to him, like the mother he never had. It wasn't like he'd ever say it out loud, though.
"Oh God..." Bobby whispers.
"What's up with you, mate?" Ron asked as they were leaving the Ministry.
"And don't say nothing. We could all see it." Ginny snapped.
Hermione and Neville nodded, before together, all four of them shot Harry looks.
Harry sighed. Well, here goes nothing... "It's my... My scar..."
They didn't let him finish. Hermione shrieked, Ginny froze in place, Ron cursed loudly and Neville looked confused. Looks were sent their ways as Hermione told Ron to settle down.
"Settle down? Settle down? His sc-" Ron began loudly.
"Not here!" Harry shushed him, motioning to all the people around them. Ron glanced about before turning back to Harry.
"We're talking about this. Now."
"Alright." Harry responds.
Then, holding hands, the five apparate back to Harry and Ginny's cottage.
"Ginny, maybe you should go pick up the kids from Luna's. We'll discuss it after-"
"Harry Potter." she said dangerously.
"Gin, please?"
"Why?"
"Because, my mind is still spinning. I need some time to get my head in order. Please?"
Ginny stared at him for a bit before her expression softened. "Of course..." she told him, giving him a quick kiss before spinning in place, disappearing at once.
"What's this about?" Ron rounded on Harry like a hound.
"Why does his scar hurting matter?" Neville asks.
The other three stare at him, before Hermione finally breaks it. "The last time... The last time it hurt was because of Voldemort, because Harry was linked to him. And if it's hurting again..."
Neville went pale, before imitating Ron and cursing loudly.
"So, he's back! How can that be-" he begins.
"No, I don't think... It was different than before!" Harry interrupts.
"How?" Ron demands.
"We have to wait for Ginny." Harry says simply, causing Ron to resist the urge to strangle his best friend.
"Yup, and there's more. He built private railroad lines, connecting church to church. And it just so happens to lay out like this." Bobby said, before taking a marker in his hands and connecting each of the X's together on the map. Each railroad line intersecting to create a giant pentagram in the middle of southern Wyoming, each built in the mid 19th century by Samuel Colt himself.
"Tell me that's not what I think it is." Dean says, staring. Something like this... Just... Wow.
"It's a Devil's Trap." Sam realizes. "A 100-square mile Devil's Trap."
"That's brilliant. Iron lines demons can't cross." Dean declares, his eyes still locked on the paper. Not only did Samuel Colt create a gun that could kill demons, vampires, and just about anything, but he also did this. He made a massive Devil's Trap. Amazing.
"I never heard of anything that massive." Ellen whispers.
"No one has." Bobby states.
"After all these years, none of the lines have broken? I mean, it still works?" Dean looked up to Bobby.
"Definitely." Sam answers for them.
"How do you know?" Dean turns to him, slightly confused.
"All those omens Bobby found. I mean, the demons, they must be circling and they can't get it." Sam reasons.
"Yeah, well... They're trying." Bobby says.
"Why? What's inside?" Ellen questions.
"That's what I've been looking at and, uh, there's nothing except an old cowboy's cemetery right in the middle." Dean points at the map, placing his finger at the exact center of the pentagram.
"Well, what's so important about a cemetery or... What's Colt trying to protect?" Sam says.
"Well, unless..." Dean begins.
"Unless what?" Bobby asks.
"What if Colt wasn't trying to keep the demons out? What if he was trying to keep something in?" Dean suggested.
"Now, that's a comforting thought." Ellen says with a hint of sarcasm.
"Yeah, you think?" Dean counters.
"Could they do it, Bobby? Could they get inside?" Sam interrupts them.
"This thing's so powerful, you'd practically need an A-bomb to destroy it." Bobby shakes his head. "No way a full-blood demon get's across."
"No." Sam nods as it hits him. Oh. Of course... That's what Yellow-Eyes was planning. It all makes sense now, all the pieces falling into place. "But I know who could..."
Ginny walked bck through the fire place, a sleeping Albus in her arms. Sleepily, the two year old James followed lazily behind, his eyes drooping.
"Help me." Ginny says.
Hermione rushed forward, picking up little James, who leans his head on her shoulder and begins to snore. His head lolls against her shoulder and within seconds he's out cold. Together, Ginny and Hermione take the two children upstairs to their bedrooms.
"So... When is Hermione due?" Harry asks in an effort to change the subject.
Ron just stares at him blankly. "Mate, even I'm not that stupid, and I've done some stupid shit. No changing the subject."
Harry sighed and nodded. Soon, the girls were back. They all sat down, Harry in an armchair, Ginny and Hermione on one couch and Neville and Ron on the other.
"Alright, what happened? And don't spare us the details, Harry." Ginny says sternly.
Harry sighs. "Okay... Two days ago, I had this dream-"
"What kind of dream? Like the one's you used to get, with Voldem-"
"Ron, let him finish!" Hermione snapped.
"Oh. Right. Sorry. Go on." Ron apologized.
"Anyways, as I was saying, I had this dream two days back. And no, it wasn't about Voldemort. I saw this man, maybe two or three years younger than all of us, dying. I saw him getting stabbed in the back and dying." Harry says.
The other four stare at him between expressions of shock and horror.
"Harry, why didn't you say anything?" Ginny demands.
"I wasn't sure what it was. All I knew was it had something to do with a place called Cold Oak. I researched it, and, well..."
"Well what?" Neville presses.
"It's an abandoned town in the United States." Harry says it. There. The crazy part. He's having visions. Of something happening on the other side of the freaking world.
"What?" the other four say incredulously.
"Exactly. And, tonight, I kept getting flashes of- Ugh, damn it!" Harry hissed, gripping at his scar.
"Harry?"
"Harry?"
His head fell down and his eyes shut onto themselves. He breathed heavily, before, suddenly, his body levitated f the ground as if cursed. The other four stood rapidly, shock overriding a sense to do something.
Then, Neville and Ron snapped out of it, and, together, they tried to pull him down...
Which resulting in Harry ripping from their grip, slamming against the wall. His eyes shot open, wide and unseeing, and he screamed.
"Hey lady. Do me a favor. Put that gun to your head." Jake ordered, a sudden malevolent flash of yellow overtaking his eyes.
Ellen struggled, before, against her will, her hand lifted and she placed the gun against her skull, ready to shoot, ready to kill herself.
The other three stared in horror as Jake laughed. It was cold, cruel. Demonic. Because he's surrendered to it. He'd given in to his dark side, and it filled him. Filled every little crack.
"See, that Ava girl was right. Once you give in to it, there's all sorts of new Jedi mind tricks you can learn." Jake says.
"Let her go." Sam commands.
"Shoot him." Ellen manages, her voice trembling as she barely manages to fight it to even be able to speak.
"You'll be mopping up her skull before you get a shot off." Jake tells Sam. "Everybody put your guns down." he orders, before looking directly at Ellen. "Except you, sweetheart." he smiles at her.
First, Bobby. Then Dean. Then Sam. Except, this time, Jake isn't controlling them. He isn't, because all his concentration is locked on Ellen, keeping her in place. Keeping her bound.
"Okay." Jake nods. "Thank you." he smiles at them in a way that makes them all want to smack him upside the head.
He then rushes to the Devil's Gate, shoves the Colt into place. Bobby quickly turns to Ellen, and, alongside Dean, both wrestle the gun from her grip. Sam picks up his gun and fires. Once, twice. Twin holes perturbed themselves onto Jake's back, but he's not dead. He's not human, not anymore. He grunts and falls back, before colliding to the ground, breathing heavily. Sam fires, over and over, and he doesn't stop. Rage has overtaken him. Rage, hatred, and anger much unlike himself, the old him. He steps over to stand before the fallen form of Jake, glancing down with disgust at the fallen assassin.
Jake gasps. "Please... Don't... Please..."
Sam shoots twice more, killing the other man in cold blood. He deserved it, after all. A third time, and the brains splatter. The blood shoots off, some of it landing on Sam's cheek.
Bobby is staring at Sam. He doesn't say anything, but there's fear in his eyes. The Sam he remembers... So innocent. Yet he just watched him butcher another without an ounce of remorse, mercilessly. But that's not the worst part. He knew Jake had to die. The worst part... It was seeing Sam enjoy killing Jake.
Behind Sam, the lock spins, over and over.
Dean looks down in shock at Jake before looking up at Sam. Sam won't meet his gaze, and, wordlessly, he wipes the blood from his cheek.
The lock is spinning. Faster and faster, harder and harder. Then it happens. That one fatal sound.
Click.
"Oh, no." Bobby gasps.
"Bobby, what is it?" Ellen asks.
"It's hell." Bobby answers as the door begins to rattle.
"Harry!" Ginny shouted as she shook him. They had managed to strap his body down to the table in the kitchen, but he was still shaking, and shaking bad. He was even talking, mumbling, over and over.
His eyes shot open.
"Devil's Gate..." he whispered.
"What?"
"He... He did it... He opened it, he... Devil's Ga- ugh!" Harry groaned, before falling back down.
"Hermione, what is that? What the bloody hell is a Devil's Gate?" Ron shouted.
"I..." Hermione's eyes are wide and terror filled.
"Hermione..."
"I thought it was just a myth, I..."
"What is it?" Neville asks.
Hermione stares up at him, fear in her eyes. "A door." even Ginny stares up at her at this. A what?
"A door where?" Ron continues.
"A doorway to Hell..." Hermione's voice is barely audiable, but she is heard nonetheless. The others exchange looks.
What.
The bloody hell.
Does that mean!
"What the hell just happened!" Dean hollered over the tremendous noise of demons whistling their way out of the now open gate. All around them, the sky darkened pitch black, the only light coming directly from the gate. It was red and burning light, the light of eternal flames.
"That's a Devil's Gate, a damn door to hell!" Ellen cried.
The metal of the railroad boundaries holding the entire thing together begin to crack and break. It's powerful, but this... This is to much and there are too many. Too many demons. The black sulfuric smoke rips it's path across everything, escaping every which way. As the metal melts, a single figure makes his way inside.
"Come on! We got to shut that gate!" Ellen screams.
Sam, Bobby, and Ellen rush forth to attempt to do just that, but Dean stays put, staring down at the gun in his hands, turning it over. It's the Colt. The legendary demon-killing Colt.
"If the demon gave this to Jake... Then that means..." Dean whispers to himself. Then, it hits him. As thunder clashes around him, he turns, and there he stands. Old Yellow-Eyes, smiling at him. Dean lifts up the gun, ready to fire, but the demon is quicker. It lifts it's hand the gun whips into his hand.
"A boy shouldn't play with Daddy's gun." Azazel scolds.
Dean is suddenly lifted off the ground, slamming into a tombstone with bone-breaking force.
Sam pushed against the gate, using his back as leverage, when he spots him. Dean, sprawled on the ground, blood falling from his head where he hit against the stone. Then, he spots the demon...
"DEAN!"
And, abandoning Ellen to try and shut the door on her own, causing her to grunt in pain from the effort, Sam charges blindly at Azazel. Which results in him ending up pinned to a tree, with the Yellow-Eyed bastard simply standing there, grinning at him.
Harry's head fell back. He was panting heavily, sweat falling from him in waves. He looked scared, terrified.
"Mate, are you-" Ron begins.
Harry's eyes went unnaturally wide, then, in a demonic voice, he spoke, causing the others to jump. "You saw what your brother just did to Jake, right?" Harry spoke in a distorted androgynous voice. "That was pretty cold, wasn't it?" Harry continues calmly in the same cold voice, before chuckling evilly. If it had been any other four in that room, they would have ran. But they were his friends, to the point where they would die for him, and they weren't leaving. "How certain are you," Harry said, his face twisting in an evil smile. "That what you brought back is 100 percent pure Sam?" he then laughed. He laughed evilly, cruelly, twisted. It was scarier than confronting Voldemort himself, because the laugh was insane, insane to the point where it made Bellatrix seem tame.
Then, Harry's head fell back one more and he panted. He was breathing hard. Each breath looked like it took effort, like it strained and hurt him. Then, he groaned. He groaned loudly as the last of the vision played itself out within his head.
"I couldn't have done it without your pathetic, self-loathing, self-destructive desire to sacrifice yourself for your family." Azazel tells Dean, his voice dipped in disgust. Then, he lifts the Colt at the immobile and bound Dean, ready to open fire.
But, he doesn't notice.
Behind him, creeping ever so slowly, the spirit of the man he killed, the man who sold his soul to save his son's life. The ghost of John Winchester, sneaking up slowly behind the Yellow-Eyed bastard. Then, as Azazel is about to shoot, John grabs him. He tears the demonic essence from the human host and the two spirits tangle as John attempts to contain Azazel.
The limp form of the formerly possessed body falls to the ground, the gun slipping from the dead man's grip as John wrestles with the demon. But the demon is too strong. It tosses the other spirit with force, before re-entering it's host.
Azazel rises just in time to see Dean, his eyes filled with hate and just a touch of fulfillment, pulling the trigger to the Colt. A single, golden bullet lit in flames shoots forth before Azazel can even think of trying to stop it.
It rips into his chest, into his upper left side beneath his shoulder, striking the heart. Azazel glances down at the wound ever so slowly, shock in his eyes. He looks back up at Dean, who continues to stare the other one down coldly.
Then, lightning rips through the demon. It cackles inside of it, lightning it up completely, filling it. One, two, three, four the shock waves spill forth before Azazel falls back, colliding to the ground. The Yellow Eyed Demon, after all these years, is finally dead.
Sam falls from where he was being held against a tree as Bobby and Ellen finally succeed in closing the Devil's Gate.
Harry stops moving. He rises up slowly, lifting his hand up to his forehead, feeling the sweat there. He's burning. Burning as if he'd just been electrocuted...
"Harry?" Hermione asks almost fearfully.
"I'm fine." Harry manages, looking up at her. "We need to get to Sioux Falls." he says simply.
"Sioux what?" Ron asks.
"It's a city in America. We need to go there. Now." Harry responds calmly.
"Why?" Neville asks, fearing the answer.
"Because... If everything I just saw really happened, then we have a war on our hands. And this time, it's not just a couple of dark wizards we're facing. Demons. Demons straight from hell." Harry answers solemnly.
No one speaks for several seconds before, finally, Ron breaks it. "You aren't gonna... Go all... You know, again, are you?"
"Yellow-Eyes is dead so... I don't know." Harry's response causes more questions than it does answers.
Silence...
"But, demons... They can't be- we'd have seen one by now, right?" Ron points out.
"Not necessarily. If they thought we were a threat to them, they'd hide." Hermione counters, causing Ron to deflate.
Ginny turns to Harry. "Explain everything. Start to finish. Not a detail out." she tells him, sitting next to him and gripping his hand.
Harry sighs, before doing exactly that, reciting everything. The major problem, however, is this; he has no idea why the hell his scar started hurting. All he knows is that is has something to do with whatever he saw. And if an army of demons just got unleashed upon the world...
There was going to be one hell of a battle on their hands...