A/N; This starts out during the Magnificent Seven, the Season 3 opener. After that, I won't really be following Season 3 so much. There'll be other episodes that I do follow. For example: without a doubt, Jus in Bello will be in here later on. But, as this is a crossover, things aren't going to go exactly as they went in the series, for obvious reasons, which means it might get messy.
I'm also thinking... Should I bring back Ava? I'd like there to be one more Psychic like Sam out there that they absolutely must take down. That, and I didn't like how they killed her. I mean, come on, she literally slaughters how many people and yet somehow Jake manages to sneak up on her without her noticing and snapping her neck? It just seemed too easy in my opinion.
Anyways, on with the story.
Chapter 2
Lincoln, Nebraska
May 8th-9th, 2007
"Did I ever mention how much I hate flying?" Neville spoke as they approached the Muggle airplane.
"I hate to agree with him, but do we really have to get on this... Thing? Why not use a Portkey?" Ron looks up at Harry.
"And give our position away to the enemy?" Harry snaps.
"You'd think we're at war with these people..." Neville muttered, but Harry heard him anyways.
"We might as well be." Harry shot him a cold look.
"Mate. What if it was just a dream and you're freaking out over noth-" Ron began.
"How sure are you that what you brought back is 100 percent pure Sam?" Harry quoted and Ron twitched. He'd seen some pretty twisted shit on this job, but that- seeing Harry practically be possessed- that took the cake.
They boarded the airplane and it took of, swooping it's path across the skies.
Harry didn't tell them because he didn't want to worry them. He didn't tell Ron and Neville that the true reason, the real reason they weren't using a Portkey to get to Sioux Falls was because they couldn't.
Why?
A mysterious wave of energy, centered in Wyoming, had spread out across the neighboring states around it, enabling magical transport in the area obsolete. Whatever had gone down there, it was big enough to distort the natural flow to the point where a Portkey would be down right useless.
Harry wasn't sure if Apparation would work down there. And, if it didn't... But, all three of them were trained Aurors. Worst comes to worst, they'd be able to handle it.
What he was really worried about, however, was what would happen if they didn't come back, if they couldn't come back. After Harry had filled Kingsley in on the situation, it took a hell of a lot of persuasion to keep the Minister from deploying every Auror disposable to him immediately.
But, Harry convinced him that a smaller task force, one consisting of three, would be best. Such a large team would not only be detected effortlessly, but they still had no idea as to whether theses 'demons' could or could not possess them like normal humans, in which case, they would be utterly screwed.
The mission was, as of this point, confidential. Only two other Ministry officials, beside himself, Ron, and Neville, knew of the situation; Kingsley himself and Hermione. Everything was being kept to secrecy.
Harry didn't like it much, but...
They had to be sure.
They had to be sure this was really happening before telling the Wizarding community that they had yet another war on their hands.
Except, this was bigger than Voldemort. Much, much bigger. Voldemort was just one man, and he was mortal. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, of demons had escaped the opening of that damn Devil's Gate. Harry didn't even know where to begin! Demons. Demons, of all things.
Hermione, being Hermione, had checked up on the books the second the issue came up. And that was the scariest part of all. Days of searching, and nothing. Every possible record of a demon in Wizarding history systematically wiped out. All lore, possible defense against them, everything, gone.
Except one.
It was an old account, dating back thousands of years, pre-Egyptian. All Hermione could decipher from it was 'The first demon made must break the Final Seal.' What the hell did that mean?
Under it, there had been a picture, of a woman, a woman with stunning beauty, elegance, grace, a woman eating a baby.
Harry had to resist the urge to vomit as the memory of seeing the moving wizarding picture came to mind.
He blinked a bit, checking his watch. His eyes widened. They'd been on the damn thing for over an hour already. Well, that one flew bye without a second glance.
"When will it be over?" Neville groaned slightly, gripping his stomach.
"We should be landing in a few. Not far now." Harry assured.
"Yeah, and then we have to drive. Why can't we just apparate, Harry?" Ron demanded.
Harry sighed, and that was all it took. The brief look of guilt on his face was what alerted the other two. Because they knew him. They knew him better than they knew themselves on some occasions. And they could tell, in a heartbeat, that Harry was hiding something.
"Harry, what is it?" Ron hissed.
Harry looked down for a second, closed his eyes, and thought the hell with it before looking back up at the other pair. "The reason we aren't taking a Portkey is because we can't."
"Can't, or because you think we'll 'alert the enemy to our position'." Ron quoted.
"Can't. Physically can't. Whatever went down in Wyoming, it's blocking magical reception. We couldn't even get a straight message across, magical or electronically." Harry corrected.
Ron and Neville gaped at him, neither speaking, neither uttering even the rumor or a word, a whisper, a sound other than their own breathing. Then, the lights flickered slightly. The flight attendant looked up in surprise before the problem corrected itself, avoiding any sort of hysteria. Ron and Neville were openly glaring at Harry at this point.
"And you didn't think this was something we ought to know about?" Neville snarled.
"Look, I found out last minute, okay? We weren't even sure. And, I didn't want to worry you-" Harry begins.
"Are you feeling alright?" Ron interrupts.
"What?" Harry looks at him confused.
"Are you feeling alright." Ron repeats as both Harry and Neville shoot him odd looks.
"Umm... Yeah, why?" Harry said slowly.
"Well, since when do you keep secrets? Well, from us, anyways, hm?" Ron points out in one of his rare moments of wisdom.
Harry blinks. Whether he likes it or not, Ron has a point. Even when they were younger, Harry was always so honest with his friends. Rare were the moments when he even thought of lying to any of them.
Yet now, right in the middle of a mission, he randomly decided to keep information that could be crucial for them all...
Ever since his... Episode... Harry didn't want to admit it, but it hadn't really stopped. He kept getting these random flashes. So far, he could still differentiate what was right in front of him and what he was seeing inside his head due to Auror required Occulemcy training, but it was starting to strain on him.
And it wasn't just Yellow-Eyes. Hell, after the first episode, none of the rest involved Yellow-Eyes. He kept seeing these dark eyes. Dark malevolent eyes with no light left in them, empty, dead. Evil. Demonic.
But, there was one in particular that was different, and, if he was to be honest, downright scared him to a point.
Then, it hit him.
And it hit him hard.
Harry nearly doubled over as another vision hit him, strong, hard. Not one, but several. He gasped a few times before his eyes shot open. Coughing, he looked up at Neville and Ron, both staring at him with concern.
"Sir, are you alright?" the flight attendant asked.
"Perfectly." Harry replied sarcastically.
"Can I get you anything?"
"Glass of water would be nice."
The flight attendant nods and walks off the opposite direction. The second she was gone, Ron and Neville rounded on Harry.
"What the hell was that?" Ron interrogated.
Harry closed his eyes for a second. He didn't speak. He didn't want to speak. "I just... I just witnessed a man chug down drain cleaner, Ron. Can you give me just a moment, just one, to get my bloody head in order?" Harry snapped.
The other two fell silent as Harry let his head lean back. He gave a soft sigh, before turning to look at his friends with tired eyes. Ron winced slightly. He knew from Ginny that Harry wasn't sleeping well. He just didn't know how bad it was. And now, looking into his eyes, he could see. He looked so haunted...
"Change of plans." Harry finally said, looking back and forth between the two of them. They stared at him, confused. "We need to go to Lincoln, Nebraska, wherever that is, not Sioux Falls. That's where they'll be."
"How do you know?" Neville asked. Ron turned and shot him an incredulous look at the words.
"Because... Just trust me, alright?" Harry told him.
"Fine. But no more keeping things from us." Ron turned back to him, a stern expression on his face as if he was disciplining a five year old.
Harry had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "Alright, I won't."
"We don't even know how many of them there are!" Sam shouted. This was suicide. Complete and utter suicide. They wanted to go back to that damn bar, half cocked, and go off against all those demons? No! The only thing they were going to achieve was a one way ticket to hell, and there was no way Sam was going to let Dean, or Tamara for that matter, go back there.
He could understand why Tamara wanted to go back, he really could. Her husband was dead. Isaac was dead, and they had left his damn body behind, because they didn't have a choice, because the demons were closing in and they barely managed to even get her out of there alive.
And, he'd felt the same way with Jessica two years back.
Looking up at her dying form right above his head, her blood dripping down, landing on his face... If it hadn't been for Dean, Sam would have died. He would have died, frozen in place as his girlfriend, the girl he loved, the girl he was going to propose to in a couple of days, burst into flames right before his very eyes... But, he forced himself to stop thinking about that, about that day. About him almost, just almost, having a normal life. Because that wasn't what mattered now. What mattered was what was happening, here, now, not the past.
"Yeah we do. There's seven." Bobby interrupted them, carrying a book with him as he came over. "Do you have any idea who we're up against?" he told them gravely.
"No. Who?" Dean asked with an expression of 'how the hell are we suppose to know who they are?' written all over his face.
"The Seven Deadly Sins, live and in the flesh!" Bobby exclaimed.
"Huh..." Dean said. "What's in the box!" he joked. Unimpressed, the other three just stared at him coldly. "Brad Pitt? Se7en? No?"
Silence.
Bobby breaks it as he sets the book down with an audible thud on the table. Dean looks at it. "What's this?" he decides it's best to change the subject from his failed attempt to lighten up the mood.
"Binsfeld's Classification of Demons." Bobby answers before continuing. "In 1589, Binsfeld I.D.'d the Seven Sins- Not just as human vices but as actual devils."
"The family- they were touched by Sloth." Sam realizes, the scene of the three dead individuals they had seen worming itself into his mind. The three that had died from dehydration and starvation- with a fully stocked kitchen not ten feet away from the couch they were resting on. "And the shopper..." Sam continues.
"That's Envy's doing." Bobby infers. "The customer we got in the next room." the demon they managed to capture, the one Dean forced into the trunk of the car before they managed to escape. "I couldn't suss it out at first until Isaac. He was touched by an awful Gluttony."
"I don't give a rat's ass if they're the Three Stooges or the Four Tops!" Tamara explodes. "I'm gonna slaughter every last one of them!"
"We already did it your way!" Bobby shouts back. "You burst in there half-cocked and look what happened!" he continues without the rumor of mercy, blunt, honest, and to the point without any softening around the damn edges. "These demons haven't been topside in half a millennium! We're talking Medieval, Dark Ages! We've never faced anything close to this! So we are gonna take a breath..." Bobby pauses here, then, calmly, he continues. "And figure out what our next move is!" he thunders. Tamara glares at him, on the edge. She looks like she wants to break down into tears, but resists. "I am sorry for your loss." Bobby concludes. There's sincerity in his voice, but also an edge that clearly states they aren't going to make this a suicide mission.
Tamara stops off and Sam and Dean exchange looks, before Sam stalks after her. Because he can understand her better than the other two. Because he knows what it's like to want revenge, to want to take it and wield it. But that's not all. Because Azazel was right about one thing, one crucial thing.
How certain are you that what you brought back is 100 percent pure Sam? They weren't just words to mess with Dean's head. Weren't just words to torment him. Those were the last words Azazel wanted him to hear. Truth. Blunt truth. Because the truth hurts a hell of a lot more than deception. And this new Sam? He was full of rage, of anger, of darkness, rolling beneath the surface of the man he once was.
"So you know who I am, huh?" Envy grins up at them as they enter.
"How much farther, Harry?" Ron asks.
"Check the map again. This is where I'm suppose to turn, right?" Harry says as they stop at a light.
"How the ruddy hell am I suppose to know? You're the one who marked the map!" Ron cried.
"Let me see..." Neville intervenes, pulling the map from Ron and examining it. "Yup, right here. Take a right."
"Thanks." Harry turns the wheel before stomping on the gas. Instantly, the car shoots forward too fast and Harry has to stomp on the break. "How the hell do Muggles get around in these things?" he curses more to himself than the other two as he presses the gas softly.
The result?
A snail's pace.
"Move over!" Ron groans in exasperation.
"I'm driving!" Harry snaps.
"You don't know how!"
"I have a license." Harry counters.
"Yeah? I have actual experience!"
"When!"
"Second year, flying car, remember?"
"That doesn't count, and you know it!"
"Yeah, well, I say it does!"
"STOP ARGUING LIKE AN OLD MARRIED COUPLE! Merlin, will the two of you just calm down for just a second, please?" Neville grips at his ears.
Harry and Ron exchange awkward looks before turning to look at Neville in the back seat. "Sorry." the mutter together.
"It's alright. Turn here." Neville points.
Harry nods and does as told.
Then, his Occulemcy shields are assaulted once more. Only years of training keeps him from crashing. As quick as it comes, it's gone. "Damn it!" he hisses.
"What?" Ron asks.
"Ever heard of the Seven Deadly Sins?" Harry says.
"The what?" Ron is confused.
"Envy, Sloth, Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Pride, and Wrath?" Neville, unlike Ron, actually knows.
"That's what we're up against." Harry informs them.
"What?" Ron gasps as Neville says "I thought they where just vices!"
"Apparently, they have Demonic Incarnations. Do not, I repeat, do not let them touch you. One touch, you're under their power." Harry warns them.
"And how do we take them down?" Ron asks.
"No idea!" Harry replies in mock cheerfulness.
Well. That's great. Just plain brilliant.
