Give Me One Reason
Just like Riding A Bike
Summary: What do you do when you're on a road trip with a Seer, the son of a Death Eater, a Metamorphmagus, and learn the apocalypse is happening? Order a shot of whisky, wait, make that a double. If there is one thing Hunters and Wizards have in common it is the desire to go down swinging.
A/N: As my penname implies this is not my first appearance in the fanfic community; however, I did drop off the face of the Earth a few years ago. I just, got tired. I'm sorry. Now I'm shaky, and sore, and I just want to come home. Harry Potter was my first fandom, and I still lurk around, I never really left. It IS my home. So I hope you don't mind me dropping in for the holidays. I need the pick-me-up. Also I just happen to be making a stop by the Supernatural people. You guys are wonderful. I found you after I left Harry behind for new adventures, but you are fun, and crossovers are great practice. I thank you in advance for your time, I hope you don't mind the intrusion.
PAIRINGS: I'm actually not going to focus a whole lot on pairings, at least not graphically, but cuddling is a thing. Draco/Luna is planned, I fell in love with making Harry asexual, and I'm thinking Destiel just because I think the pairing is adorable. I honestly do not know about Sam unless I toss in another character, we'll just see.
Chapter One
Welcome to the Show
It had been ten years since the Battle of Hogwarts and if you would have asked Harry back then what he thought he would be doing; it certainly wouldn't be this. This being waiting for his old school rival Draco Malfoy to be done grilling hunter extraordinaire and fellow rust junky Dean Winchester for information.
It hadn't been an easy road to friendship for him and Draco. It started with Narcissa Malfoy saving his life. That sparked a conversation, more of a rant really but who's checking, about two little boys thrown into a civil war and expected to act the way the world wanted. The Golden Boy and the Dark Prince; two sides of the same abusive coin. One a cupboard, the other an empty mansion; a fat bully of a cousin, versus people who wanted only a name; spiders for friends, and house elves for nannies too frightened of the father to love the son.
They both knew it could have been worse, and yet, so much better. Draco was Marked. He admitted it during that first long talk, also taking a vow, it was either the Mark or death and he chose a life chained. He didn't have a choice, any more than Harry had a choice in going after Voldemort.
That conversation had sparked an uneasy truce, followed by comradeship as they tracked down the rest of Voldemort's supporters –Draco himself bringing in his father and never before looking so gleeful- and on that very day Harry and Draco counted themselves friends.
Hermione and Ron had gotten married soon after they finished school, and were living a quiet life in London. A well-deserved reward for the hell their lives had been. Ginny was alive and well, free living her life without a shadow over it. Without the threat of a war hanging over them and the flush of hero worship, their relationship faded back to what it was when they were younger. Strong, caring, no doubt about it being there, but not really sexual.
When Harry had mentioned wanting to get out of Britain for a while they backed the plan whole heartedly; for them it was home, for Harry it was a cage. Everyone deserved that second chance for happiness.
The States had been an interesting adventure. It was freaking huge for one. He'd heard it said once that Americans thought a hundred years was a long time but Europeans though a hundred miles was a long way; he never understood the joke until they were on the road for three days and remained in the exact same state! They made a game of getting lost, finding random places to stay that looked interesting.
It wasn't just Draco and himself either. During the last battle Luna had lost her father, and being lonely and heartbroken they stuck together. The pair of them moved in with Andromeda Tonks when the kind but formidable women refused to take no for an answer. That gave Harry a good five years of stable family life with her and his godson before yet another blow, she passed away in her sleep, grief and the stress of war taking its toll.
That was part of the reason he was so anxious for Draco to finish up his conversation. Teddy was back at the motel with Luna, and he didn't like leaving his responsibility on his friends for too long; it made him feel guilty no matter how many times they told him they didn't mind. About the only times they could get him away was when Teddy was sleeping anyway. Losing all of his guardian figures so young had left him extremely overprotective of Teddy, which was the other reason he was anxious.
This was a Hunter bar.
The Magical world and Hunter world coexisted surprisingly well, especially since only one side knew about the other. You see the Magical world used the Hunters to control particularly stubborn populations of dangerous creatures. If they were breaking enough rules to get on a Hunter's radar than they were drawing too much attention. If however a creature did believe they were in danger of being targeted unjustly they could get sanctuary from the magical government. That was something the States were much better at then Britain. They didn't care about blood status as much.
Hence the conversation with known Hunter Dean Winchester. Normally they didn't frequent Hunter bars, no magicals liked tempting fate unless necessary, but then again the Winchesters avoided them unless they were looking for something too.
In other words something was up, something big, that brought them into the information brokering circles. That warranted a couple paranoid ex-aurors to go poking around.
That was going just great until Harry remembered one little tiny detail he almost forgot about Draco, mainly because it was so hard to believe in the first place. Draco's introduction to muggle culture hadn't been as rocky as it could have been mainly due to the singularly strong fascination he had for automobiles. Old ones, new ones, fast ones, sleek, rusty, classic, import, all of them. If it had four wheels and an engine Draco wanted to take it apart and see how it ticked.
A fact about the Winchester brothers almost as well known as the Hunting was their car, a classic Impala. It was Dean's pride and joy.
Harry didn't really care, he just wanted to get back to his godson and make sure he was safe; call him obsessed, at least Teddy would never have to be afraid.
He was so busy stewing in his own anxieties he barely noticed the gigantic hunter approaching until he was slipping into the barstool next to him.
Good lord, what in hades did that boy eat; miracle grow? Harry was a respectable 5' 9, but this guy was easily more than half a foot taller than him. He was taller than Ron or Draco and both of them were over the six foot mark.
Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because the younger man's face twisted up into a sheepish smile. "Hey, haven't seen you here before. My name's Sam. You came here with the guy talking to my brother right?"
"Yeah, I'm Harry and the car nut over there is Draco. We're just passing through." Harry admitted, noting Sam left out last names so he didn't feel bad doing the same.
Sam tilted his head curiously. "If you don't mind me asking, where are you from? We travel a lot so we hear a lot of accents."
"No problem," Harry answered with a practiced smile, being too morbid –even in a Hunter bar- was a good way to attract attention. "I'm from England but went to school in Scotland, the accent blended."
A somewhat awkward silence descended as Sam seemed to decide whether it was safe to ask the stranger his question, it was actually amusing for Harry to watch the gears turning in his head before he slowly began to speak. "Do you hunt?"
That could almost be an innocent question, almost. "I know the business, yes." True enough, though it was usually just enough to stay out of the Hunters' way.
"My brother and I, we've run into something strange. I mean, even stranger than the other things we face." He admitted slowly.
"Go on," Harry encouraged carefully, a feeling in his gut telling him he was about to be dragged headfirst into something important.
"The Seals on Lucifer's cage, know anything about them?" Sam finally burst out, just managing to keep his voice down.
The former Boy-Who-Lived did a double-take, realized Sam was serious, blanched, and called over to the bartender, "Could I please have a shot of Jameson, wait, make that a double!" His eyes were slightly wide, and his face was pale, but otherwise he was keeping it together. Sometimes it paid off to be an old war vet at 27.
It was enough body language to let Draco know something was up though, because he cut his conversation with Dean short and the two of them come over quickly, "Are you okay Harry?" The slightly older wizard couldn't help but ask as he watched him down the shot like water. Harry wasn't exactly a light weight, but he didn't drink like a fish either; him reaching for liquor like a life-line was not good.
Dean looked quickly between Harry and Sam and put the pieces together, "You told him didn't you?" He accused.
"Not all of it," The younger brother mumbled, at least attempting to defend himself.
Harry visibly collected himself back together, "Relax Dean, your brother didn't say too much. Just enough for me to know I needed a drink for this. Start at the beginning please, what's this about Seals around Lucifer? I have to warn you we're willing to listen but that's not really our area, there's a woman travelling with us better suited to that kind of thing though."
Wizards and religion, now that was an interesting mix. A bit like the connection between magic and hunters it was a live and let live kind of thing. Most magicals liked to pretend religion, at least the modern ones, didn't exist. Harry didn't know enough to believe one way or another, and the Dursleys had never bothered to discuss church with him.
Luna was the collector of old, unusual, or taboo stories; and in the magical world that's where religion tended to fall into. The boys listened carefully to Sam and Dean with the mind to pass on whatever they heard to the true expert in their midst.
To the Winchester's credit they seemed to be glad to talk to someone who didn't want to point a shotgun in their face immediately for more or less triggering the end of the world. Those boys were tired, desperate, and were carrying the weight of the world; no wonder they clung to the first shred of hope offered to them. From everything Harry had heard through the rumor mill this was nothing like the usual Winchesters, but you know, sometimes something has to give.
There comes those times in a person's life where you don't realize why you're doing something; only that it's the right thing to do. Right now that was what Sam and Dean felt as the dumped the story onto two strangers they'd just met.