EXTRA NOTE: FF won't let me edit any stories in the HP category, which basically means all my stories. I did manage a work-around, but only to upload chapters. I can't edit the story title, etc. This story is now called "God's Permission" since another story already had the Angels, Demons and Wizards title.
Note: Hello again! Some of you might have thought I was never going to continue this story, but the truth is that the first chapter came out of nowhere and I had to spend a lot of time figuring out where the story would go from there. Things aren't set in stone yet, and there are still a lot of plot points to decide, but updates should be a bit more frequent after this, hopefully.
I should also note that no pairing has yet been decided. You can go to my FF profile and vote on your desired pairing if you like.
Note on new title: God's Permission refers to the three things needed for witches to exist in the infamous book Malleus Maleficarum. This is a big witch hunting book from the Middle Ages. The three things were witchcraft, the devil and God's permission. In this story God's permission also refers to the problem with free will vs. destiny or prophecy. Both Harry Potter and Supernatural explore this conundrum a lot, and I will probably take this further in this story. I guess the question I'm asking with this title is: how can the Winchester overcome their destinies (by stopping the devil) if the apocalypse was God's plan? If everything exists with God's permission, how can both outcomes be possible and does free will really exist?
(If you'd like to read something fun and non-wikipedia article about this book, I highly recommend "The Last Witchfinder" by James Morrow. One of the main character is Benjamin Franklin, lol)
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Chapter 2: Across the pond.
Harry knew he should have insisted on going with the Winchesters. If only to provide a counter-point to the Angel's presence. Harry may be more reasonable than the majority of the wizarding community, but he didn't trust an Angel longer than he could throw one, without magic. They were too different, and different species naturally had different interests. This didn't mean they shouldn't work together when they actually had a mutual goal, like making sure the demons didn't win. Harry had been in the presence of both Angels and demons. While he couldn't help but doubt that they were soldiers of God, he damn well knew demons weren't even close to being a regular supernatural species, with good and bad individuals among the population. No, demons, he knew very well, were just pure evil.
It wasn't Harry's muggle childhood that made him slightly more open. In fact most muggle-borns were much more sceptical of Angels than the purebloods. Most muggleborns didn't even believe in Angels. The cease-fire had ended any interaction between the two, so very few wizards or witches had actually seen an Angel. Harry had, though, during the war.
He didn't want to think about that right now. He had to check on Hermione and assess the situation he had left at the Ministry.
It seemed most people were incapable of learning lessons from history – the thought flitted through his head as he made everything ready so he could leave at a moment's notice.
He flooed over to Hermione and Ron's house, not a stone's throw away from the Burrow. It had been built to house the pair's expected family, but that was still months off. All was silent inside.
Harry sat down to wait in a cosy chair. Everything in the small two-story cottage was cosy yet practical. A perfect blend of Hermione and Ron's styling.
It was only a couple of minutes later that Hermione showed up. She looked slightly rumpled and tired. Harry rose immediately, but she waved him back down.
'I'm fine,' she insisted. 'The interrogation went smoothly and quickly, even more so than expected.' She gave a great sigh and sat down on the couch directly opposite the fireplace. 'There's a warrant out for your arrest.' Harry nodded at this; it had been expected. Hermione hadn't liked Harry's determination to keep Sam Winchester out of Azkaban, but she hadn't stopped him and that said more than any help she could have provided. 'Want to share how you apparate through the wards?' she asked casually. Harry gave a half smile and she chuckled, knowing he couldn't really explain it. She just liked to tease him that he was holding back some great magical secret. He wasn't. It was... brute force. That was the only way he could explain it if he had to.
'You're really going to America?' she asked and he nodded again. There was nowhere else he could be reasonably safe from the Ministry and be of some help in the coming events- whatever they turned out to be.
America had been declared no-man's land over two millennia ago. There were magical communities in America at the time, but these had been integrated with the muggle societies much more so than in other parts of the world. It was probably this integration that was the source of their downfall. Without separate wizarding leaders they had had no say in the cease-fire agreement.
With demons and other supernatural beings rather going there than risk the wrath of the more powerful European and Asian communities, the magical people there soon weakened. Now only a few individuals existed with small links to their magical pasts. Psychics, shamans, and the demon-worshipping witches, regarded as perversions by the rest of the magical world, and rarely spoken of in polite company.
More than two millennia ago when the monotheistic religions had slowly started to come out of obscurity, the wizarding communities in both Europe and Asia began to fear for the muggles. They believed the religions were tools of propaganda, used by the Angels to make muggles foot soldiers for their God.
The wizarding world feared what they perceived as potential hostility to outsiders within these religions, which would eventually evolve into a fairly explicit hatred of all magic. Wizard historians debate to this day if there was ever truly an open war between Angels and wizards, but battles were fought. No one recorded who first decided to negotiate, but a cease-fire was put into affect. The religious muggles could live in peace, the wizards would not be so much as spoken to by Angels or demons, and America would be the one place no official government would reside. It became a free for all place, and if wizards or witches ventured there it was mostly to escape the law.
America was dangerous territory for a lone wizard, but Harry knew the Ministry would never order an investigation into anything outside their borders. At least not officially. Considering how much they wanted to get himself and Sam Winchester into custody, the Ministry would no doubt send Aurors off the record. The wizarding world was still officially highly closed off.
The rest of the magical world outside of Britain agreed. After the war they seemed to integrate even more, closing their borders against anything muggle which could potentially be tainted by demons or angels. It seemed that the war against prejudice had only served to make everyone more so.
'Are you going straight away?' Hermione asked, clearly thinking of Ron.
'Will he speak to me? He'll probably hear about what happened.'
'He may not agree with what you did, but he'll always be your friend,' she gently reminded him. Harry would like to keep faith in Ron, but he also understood where his friend was coming from. He had been raised with ancient battle-tales, from before the time of Merlin. The Angels were duping the muggles, it was said, to believe in their strange and invisible God. The demons were either in cahoots with them or stood as a third power wanting to simply destroy the world, it depended on who told the story.
Harry sighed and decided to wait. He might not return to Britain for some time. It wouldn't be fair to leave without saying goodbye.
They didn't have to wait long as it turned out Ron had headed home the moment he had heard about the incident. He had stopped at the Burrow to reassure Molly and Arthur, and then walked home, probably to clear his head. He looked unsurprised to see Harry in his living room.
'You realise this makes us accomplices?' he commented while he took off his outer robe and hung it on a hook by the door.
'Ron,' Hermione admonished.
'He's right,' Harry said. 'I'm putting you in an unfair situation.'
'You did the right thing,' Hermione said, which surprised Harry since she hadn't openly agreed with him before. He hoped he wasn't causing strife between her and Ron. Ron just sighed and looked grumpy. He went into the kitchen without a word. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance and Harry decided to follow.
Ron was staring into the cold cabinet, perhaps trying to decide if he really wanted a stronger drink.
'I should leave straight away,' Harry said, trying not to fidget. 'I just wanted to say goodbye. I don't know when I'll be able to come back.'
'Try never,' Ron muttered, finally deciding on a butter beer. He slammed the cabinet door a little forcefully, before sitting heavily in a kitchen chair. He took a long sip. 'Do you like being a wanted criminal, is that it?' Harry couldn't help but smile at Ron's grumpy tone. If he had been truly mad he would have been yelling. Harry sat down across from him.
'Things are happening, Ron,' he tried to explain. 'The apocalypse isn't just over and done with. The demons, the Angels, some of them, if not most of them, are still on that path. We can't just keep sitting these battles out. Voldemort was part of something much bigger, and that's not over. This is the entire earth we're talking about.'
'And freeing some muggle, risking your own freedom and then disappearing to nowhere? How is that going to convince people you've not just finally cracked?'
'The good of the many is important, but sometimes what it does to us as people isn't worth it. I had to save Sam Winchester.' He couldn't really explained it in another way. Ron didn't look like he really understood, and maybe Harry didn't either. He just knew the feeling so well; being accused of being the enemy. Locking up Sam Winchester would save no one- it might even hurt them all in the end. The Winchesters were linked to it all, Harry knew; he had heard the tales of their defeat of Lucifer. He didn't doubt that they would be key in whatever came next.
'I have to go,' Harry said, suddenly eager to get across the pond and start looking for them. Hopefully he would find them long before the Ministry decided to actually send someone into no man's land. He could cast wards around them, hell maybe even a Fidelius, though they weren't likely to agree with that. He had to convince them they were on the same side.
'Keep in touch,' Ron said suddenly, surprising Harry. 'If it's safe, of course,' he added. Harry smiled and rose, while Ron did the same. They hugged briefly and Harry left before either of them could say more. Perhaps they had drifted apart since Voldemort's defeat, but Harry still felt horrible for leaving his friends. He shared a much more tear-filled goodbye with Hermione, and then departed.
He flooed back to Grimmauld Place and grabbed his already packed rucksack. It was much like Hermione's purse during their camping trip in seventh year. He had everything he needed, hopefully. He didn't bother locking up much, just a few powerful wards in case someone was stupid enough to try something. He flooed a pub he had already investigated not far from Land's End. He thought it was poetic more than convenient. He walked out to Land's End, the better to not leave any trace and to prepare himself. From there he Apparated across the great pond. For him it wasn't that strenuous, but a normal wizard would have to travel via Apparition points, either over Greenland or on magical stations in the sea, placed there for scientific purposes. Harry arrived on the shores of New England immediately. He made a few detours just in case, always cautious even though he doubted anyone could have followed him. He stopped by Canada, Mexico and California before finally landing in Kansas.
He knew this was where it had all started for the Winchesters. He knew they probably weren't there now, but he was curious. Much like his story had started in a unremarkable home, the Winchester brothers had once had normal lives forever changed by the death of a parent. He knew their father had died during a hunt, but not much else about the man. He knew Sam and Dean had been picked by the Angels to be the vessels that would fight in the apocalypse, Michael and Lucifer. He knew Sam had cast himself into the cage to stop it. A third brother, Adam, had also been pulled in. Apparently he had taken Dean's place at some point.
What he didn't know was what kind of people they really were. Did they understand how their lives had become entwined with the destiny of the whole world? Did they resent it as much as he did his own destiny? Or did they like being individuals of such importance? To Harry the idea seemed impossible. He didn't feel important- he just did what was required of him, in his own way of course.
The Winchesters had been around the supernatural for so long that they left an undeniable imprint, but they had been gone from this house for too long. Harry scanned the outside of the house and found definite ghost residue and the wounds from the demonic presence – the event that had started it all.
He didn't enter the house, but he pictured the scene. A crib, a mother desperate to save her child. He wondered if his own fate would have been different if he had had a brother. A big brother to protect him, to help him, to save him even? He stomped down the feeling of envy and reasoned he had friends just as important- well, that wasn't exactly true. He was here alone, wasn't he?
He Apparated to his contact in Las Vegas, Nevada: A wizard he had managed to contact- he hadn't even bothered finding out why the man was hiding, but if anyone could tell him were hunters hunted, it was him.
He just hoped he found the Winchesters before something else did.
XXX
Dean didn't usual remember his dreams. Nightmares were always with him, but regular dreams? He couldn't remember the last time. As he awoke now his mind was filled with weird people.
Not just weird, wizards. Robe-wearing, wand-waving, abracadabra-wizards.
His head hurt. He groaned as he sat up, taking in the slightly smelly motel room that hadn't been redecorated since it was built in the 70s, probably. He heard the shower running and assumed Sam was in there... and not in prison.
That was when he realised it had all been real. Every bizarre thing. A bunch of Merlin-impersonators had actually tried to put his brother in prison for having a weird-looking aura.
Except for one bright-eyed kid, who looked even more wet behind the ears than Sam did when he pouted. Harry Potter? Dean snorted at the name. Sounded like a Disney movie all right. The innocent, yet determined boy-hero went off on a quest to save the princess. Oh, he couldn't wait to point out to Sam who the princess was.
Just then the bathroom door opened and the princess stepped out, fully clothed but with wet hair. Dean's mood dropped immediately upon seeing his brother's face.
'Feeling ok?' he asked. He had found himself being the one asking that lately, ever since Sam returned from hell. He knew he had hated when Sam had asked him that constantly, but it was like his mouth asked before his brain told it to shut up and just let Sam deal.
'Fine,' Sam said and started packing. 'We should head out,' he said, stuffing dirty laundry in his duffle bag.
'We got somewhere we need to be?' Dean asked, trying to remember if they'd already found another hunt.
'We agreed we'd head to Bobby's. We promised him we wouldn't pass within three hours of him and not show our faces.' Dean had forgotten, but he understood Bobby – or he thought he did. He had a sneaking suspicion that Bobby still thought Sam could get pulled back into hell at any moment. Dean mostly thought this cause he found himself worrying about the same thing. They didn't know how Sam had gotten out, so who was to say he couldn't be put right back at a moment's notice?
Back in the car, Dean tried to start a conversation about the last hunt. A small vampire coven trying to escape notice by abducting old people who lived alone. They'd given themselves away when they had started recruiting. According to Sam's research they had been happily snacking on old folks who no one missed for years. They hadn't explained why the coven had suddenly felt the need to increase their ranks. It gnawed at Dean, but not enough to get his mind off the way Sam was tight-lipped and tense.
'You know that aura reading stuff was total bullshit, right?' Dean finally said, breaking an almost thirty minute silence. Sam jerked and his head snapped up to stare at Dean. He seemed to take a breath before answering.
'Cause you're the expert on auras?' he asked sarcastically.
'Cause the kid who saved us probably broke the law getting us out of there.'
'And why is he the one who's right?'
'Cause we'd know if Lucifer was hitching a ride inside you,' Dean said, trying to sound reasonable. 'Remember what Cas said? Lucifer is an Angel, not some demon. You know what it's like having him inside you, right?' Dean hated using those words, but he just wanted to make his point and be done with it. 'Do you really believe he could be in you without you knowing?' He tried casting a few glances at Sam while keeping the road in view. His little brother looked like he was trying to find a flaw in Dean's logic. Usually, he did, but this time he sighed in defeat. Not exactly the reassured face Dean was hoping to get, but he'd take it.
'Castiel said the Angels would know if Lucifer got out,' Sam said quietly and Dean nodded. 'But why did I get out?' Sam had asked that question a million times, only a few hundred times less than Dean or Bobby. None of them had any answers, and neither did Cas. It weighed them all down. Sam had spent only three weeks in the cage before he suddenly showed up on Lisa's doorstep. Dean would never forget the way his heart damn near went out-
Some months earlier...
Dean was watching television with Ben. It had been a rough three weeks. Yesterday he'd actually gone for a job interview. That had been weird. He didn't know if he'd get any work. Maybe at a construction site downtown. He knew he should be out looking right now, but the thought of actually starting this new, normal life was silently terrifying him.
A knock at the door brought Lisa out of the kitchen. Dean sipped his beer and laughed when Ben did to show he was paying attention, though he wasn't really. He was always tense when someone knocked unexpectedly. He had forced himself to let Lisa answer the door when it was natural for her to do so, but he still didn't like it. He knew he scared her when he insisted on doing it all the time, though, so he remained seated.
'Dean? Dean, get out here.' The shock in Lisa's voice had him in hunt-mode immediately. He got up quickly, told Ben quietly to stay put, though the kid barely noticed, and tried to figure out how to get the gun out of the top shelf in the hallway closet without the person- or thing- at the door noticing. Lisa stood still by the door so whatever it was hadn't attacked. She was clearly frightened, on the verge of slamming the door closed. Dean stepped up behind her and tried to push her out of the way. Before he could do that, however, he spotted what was standing on the doorstep.
Sam.
For a heart-stopping moment, Dean actually believed his brother was alive and right there. It felt like for that split second he would run out and hug his kid brother and everything would be right again. Then the real world crashed back in.
Whatever it was impersonating Sam stood dejectedly on the front steps. He looked exactly the same as the day Sam had jumped into hell, down to the same clothes. He wore a desperate expression, one Dean had seen countless times on Sam when things seemed hopeless or when he was trying to get his brother to believe him.
'Get inside,' Dean told Lisa. She didn't hesitate and snapped into action. Dean heard her urge Ben further into the house. He kept the door half closed, cursing himself for not getting the gun out.
'Dean,' fake-Sam said. 'It's me, I swear it, Dean, it's me.'
'I believe you,' Dean said, hoping to lull the thing into a false sense of security. If anything, though, this statement made Sam's face even more sad and desperate.
'No, you don't,' it said. 'You'd be an idiot if you did and I know you're not. Just, do the tests, please. Get some holy water, a demon trap, everything.' Dean had drawn a demon trap under the rug in the hallway. He had holy water in the closet by the gun. The rest was in the trunk of the Impala in the garage. But what if the thing wanted him to invite it in? What if it made straight for Lisa and Ben?
On the other hand, if it was a demon it would be trapped before it got that far. Dean made a decision. He slammed the door shut as quickly as he could and lunged for the hallway closet, getting the gun and holy water in hand in less than two seconds. The door was open again on the third and he aimed the gun at it's head. The Sam-like face was sad, but resigned. Dean could see it swallow heavily, but that was the only sign of fear. The desperate look, screaming "believe me" was still there. Dean was sure the thing's next move was the pout.
'Please, do the tests,' it repeated. Dean held up the small flask of holy water before tossing it. The Sam look-alike didn't hesitate and visibly gulped down the whole bottle. Dean swallowed, feeling suddenly parched.
'Come in, slowly,' he said. He backed away, keeping the gun steady. Sam, who could still be a creature of some kind, stepped slowly after. Dean backed all the way down the hall. He noted Sam glanced around very human-like, as if he couldn't help being curious about the house. Before Dean even realised it, Sam had stepped straight over the rug and demon trap. Okay, so not a demon. Dean clenched his jaw. There were other tests.
'In the kitchen,' he barked, gesturing with his shoulder to the right. He watched as Sam- or whatever it was- entered the kitchen.
'This is nice.' Dean thought he heard it murmur.
'Sit down,' he ordered harshly, gesturing with the gun at the stool by the counter. Sam sat down, looking far too big for the tall stool. He was still looking around.
Dean went round the counter and started rummaging in a drawer with one hand, finally finding a silver fork. He threw it to the counter in front of Sam.
'Pick it up.' Sam obeyed and touched it without harm coming to him. He pressed in against his neck for good measure. His skin came away clean and unblemished. Dean thought it was time to get serious.
He checked for vampirism, shapeshifting and even asked Sam to cut himself so they could see how the blood looked, smelled and tasted. He pulled off hair as well and burned it. It reacted as it should. He did every test he could think of and Sam passed them all.
He was running out of tests, Dean realised, and Sam was looking more and more hopeful. Dean wouldn't be beaten, however, and started reciting an exorcism for good measure. Sam sat calmly through it all.
'Come with me.' It took a while to get into the garage with the gun trained on Sam, but they managed. Lisa and Ben had gone upstairs, thank God. Dean opened the trunk of the Impala. He kept up glancing at Sam to make sure, but the look-alike only stared at the car with open affection. Dean found the holy oil and poured a small amount in a circle just big enough for a person to stand in.
'Get in.' Sam obeyed with a sigh. Dean lit the fire.
'Hey! I do burn, you know,' Sam grouched. The circle completed itself quickly and for half a second Dean was sure he had the bastard. Then Sam jumped out to avoid getting burned. He patted himself down just in case, some of his clothes smoking. The holy oil continued to burn while the brothers stared at each other.
Dean was out of tests. There might be more if he looked them up. He could call Bobby, do some research.
'It's me,' Sam pleaded. 'Come on, Dean, you've done every test. It's me!'
'People don't just waltz out of hell,' Dean bit out, gun still trained, though it was sagging just a bit. 'Well, most don't,' he corrected, thinking of himself. 'And they certainly don't waltz out of a cage designed to hold the fucking devil.'
Sam's jaw clenched in that particular Winchester way and Dean almost lowered his gun.
'I know it sounds crazy, but I don't know how I got out. I just woke up in the field. I got myself to the nearest town, looked up Lisa online and came here. I... well, I hoped you'd kept your promise.' At the mention of the promise Dean's hands were feeling so heavy that he lowered the gun. He still kept his finger at the ready, but pointed at the concrete floor.
'Sam?' Dean wanted to believe, so badly.
'Dean.' The name sounded just like it had every time Sam said it, whenever he was desperate or in trouble. His eyes shone with recognizable emotions, as if he hadn't been gone at all. He was the exact same puppy-dog-eyed little brother Dean used to look at every day.
'I... I believe you.'
A week later and it was clear to everyone involved that Sam and Dean needed to be back on the road, hunting and trying to figure out what had pulled Sam out. Dean and Lisa had said their goodbyes. A part of Dean was relieved. The thought of working nine to five had not appealed to him. Being with Lisa and Ben had been amazing, but it hadn't felt real. It was like a vacation in an alternative reality. Maybe a part of him knew or hoped Sam was coming back. Or maybe he just wasn't made for normal.
They drove straight to Bobby's.
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Feel free to construct some criticism for me :)