Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural/Harry Potter or the characters from either show/Movie.

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The Reincarnation of a Hunter

Chapter Two: Life Before Hogwarts

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Harry Potter was five years old when he realized his relatives were lying pieces of shit. If how they treated him wasn't enough of an indicator, the rumors they spread about him and his dead parents were a big ass flashing sign that things were not as they should be. That, and he kept getting these odd flashes of memories. Memories that made no sense to him.

A blond woman who smiled at him and made his heart skip a beat. Two women, a mother and a daughter, that he felt he'd known all his life. A pair of little boys looking up at him, watching them slowly grow from being pint sized little twerps until they were both taller than him. Harry didn't know their names, but he fondly thought of the two as his idjits. He didn't know what that meant either and made sure to never ask his aunt about it.

Once while he was making lunch for his aunt, he'd gotten a flash of a memory. John Winchester had stopped by with the boys wanting help on figuring out what creature it was he was hunting. The memory had faded just as quickly as it had popped up, leaving him very disoriented and confused. He'd asked his aunt where John had went and ended up getting smacked for it and left in his cupboard for a week without food. After that he made sure to never mention the strange memories that flashed through his head every day.

Honestly he was highly confused by all these random memories that flashed through his head every day. He didn't understand why he was remembering these things, they obviously weren't his memories. How could they be when he was only five and the memories were from a man about the same age as his uncle?

Then one day when he was seven he'd hid away in the library near his home, the one place Dudley wouldn't come near for anything less than a fifty-pound note. After only a few minutes of browsing through the shelves he'd found he could read and understand books that were meant for people way older than him. Not just that, he could also read in Latin, Japanese, and several other languages.

It was on this visit to the library that he found a book on reincarnation, and everything clicked in his mind. He was remembering a past life. A life were he hunted monsters. After that day the memories just seemed to flood back to him. And only a month later he'd finally remembered everything about his past life. It was like a dam had broken that day in the library. There was Harry Potter, and then there was Bobby Singer.

Two halves of a whole and Harry wasn't sure who he was anymore. Was he the little boy that lived with relatives that hated him? Or was he the aged hunter that had helped raise a pair of boys more than their own father had? A child or an old drunk that lived in South Dakota? It took him a while, but he eventually he came to a conclusion. He was more Bobby Singer than he was Harry Potter. Unfortunately for him, he was stuck in the body of a small malnourished child. But there were small bits of Harry Potter somewhere in there as well.

Though it was easier to just continue to call himself Harry now rather than refer to himself as Bobby. That's what his new family called him, and that's what everyone else around him called him. Not to mention he didn't want to think what his supposed aunt would do to him if he asked her to call him Bobby instead of Harry.

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He was nine when he encountered his first monster in this new life. He'd been running from Dudley – again. 'Harry Hunting' was getting ridicules, especially since his uncle would pay the little brat every time he noticed Harry coming home with a few extra bruises.

"Find the freak!" Dudley shouted.

"Think anyone will notice if we break his glasses?" One of Dudley's friends had asked.

Harry felt anger boil in his stomach. If he'd been an ordinary little boy, he probably would have thought he deserved it. If he was an ordinary boy, maybe it wouldn't have escalated this far. But Harry wasn't an ordinary boy. He was an old experienced hunter in the body of a child. Harry had lost count of the times he'd reacted on instinct and taken down Dudley and his gang before he even knew what he was doing. That had been the first time Uncle Vernon had hit him with the belt.

And beating up Dudley and his gang hadn't convinced them to back off, in fact it did the opposite. Once they knew that Harry would get a beating from his uncle if he fought back made them even more determine than ever to beat the crap out of him. So Harry was forced to sneak and run away. On one such occasion he didn't look where he was going, to focused on getting away from his whale of a cousin and his friends.

Which is how he found himself in a cemetery, meeting a ghoul. He'd slipped into one of the crypts, panting slightly from the workout of running from his cousin and his gang of friends. He might not like being stuck in a child's body but being young again did have its advantages. He could run for what seemed like hours on end and not get tired or winded as easily as he used to in his past life.

Harry had leant against the door to the crypt, listening to the sound of Dudley and his gang outside. He waited until their voices became muted and he was sure they'd left before turning to look at his surroundings. He froze as his gaze landed on a pair of glowing eyes coming from the back of the crypt.

"Well, look at that, fresh meat!" A nasally voice whispered into the darkness around them.

That wasn't very reassuring! Harry let out a squeak and attempted to flee. He hadn't even made it five steps out of the crypt before he was tackled to the ground, snarling filling his ears. He'd thrashed and kicked attempting to fight the thing on top of him. But his small body was no match for the creature that had him pinned to the ground. He'd just started to feel some sort of energy building up in his chest, when another voice shouted from the direction of the crypt.

"Oi, Jack, get off the kid!"

The body on top of him was yanked off, and Harry quickly rolled over, scrambled away, and quickly standing up.

"Get off George! It's fresh meat! Aren't you tired of corpses?" The now named Jack shouted.

"Better a corpse than a brat! And you wonder why humans don't like us! Oi, brat, get going!"

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He turned and ran. He'd killed ghouls before in his past life, but in his current condition? Psh, yeah right!

Over the next couple years he noticed several odd things about himself that he couldn't explain. It irritated the hunter within him every time he did something that no human should be able to do. Like how he would occasionally disappear from one place to another when he found himself in danger, or how he found himself able to talk to snakes. Then there was the instance on his cousin's birthday trip to the zoo.

He'd made the glass separating a large snake from the rest of the room disappear after his cousin had knocked him to the floor, thus causing his cousin to fall into the exhibit that the snake had been kept in. Then the glass had reappeared after the snake had slithered away, leaving his cousin trapped within the exhibit.

Then later that day, when he was collecting the mail, he'd noticed for the first time in this life there was something there addressed to him. It was a strange looking cream-colored envelope with fancy looping writing on the front of it. Of course his whale of a cousin had ruined it by snatching it from his hands and giving it to his uncle. His uncle and aunt had gotten this look on their faces, like they were afraid of something, or like they'd seen a ghost. Vernon had then proceeded to rip the letter up and toss it into the fire place.

After that things got weird… weird even for a reincarnated hunter. Suddenly dozens of letters had started coming for him, and their yard had been filled with the owls who'd delivered them. He'd tried to get one to see what was going on, but his uncle had just shoved him into his cupboard until he'd gotten rid of all the letters. But more and more just kept coming, so his uncle and aunt packed them up and took them on a 'vacation' to get away from the letters.

Honestly his hunting instincts where screaming at him, and he just wanted answers to what was happening. But out of all the things he thought could have been happening not once did he ever think that it might be because he had magic running through him. Which is why when a giant of a man named Hagrid showed up on his birthday, he was not prepared for what the man had to say to him.

"Yer a wizard, Harry!"

He had magic. To be perfectly honest, that should have been more obvious earlier on. He blamed it on denial, and his still developing brain. He'd just never connected the dots to the strange shit happening around him to magic. Or, more specifically, internal magic. Hell, he'd spent months wondering if Gabriel was playing an elaborate prank on him. He'd even tried calling for Castiel but all that had done was get him weird looks and his so-called uncle trying to beat him.

Not that Vernon could anymore. Harry Potter might willingly sleep in a cupboard, but Bobby Singer had more pride than that. Threatening to cause a scandal worked nicely, especially with all the evidence he'd gathered. Cameras were wonderful inventions. Still, back to the point of him being a wizard. He'd never once considered the possibility.

He'd never encountered a witch or wizard who had natural magic that came from within them in his past life. He'd only ever come across witches that killed to gain their magic or sold their souls for it. This revelation led to one reaction.

"Balls!"

His aunts scandalized face was totally worth it.