"Look!" Harry was finally at the end of his considerable patience and Bobby had only said that annoying word twice. 'Thanks'. It left a bitter taste in Harry's mouth. The truth was; he enjoyed Hunting and killing evil monsters. The saving people was more of a side effect of that. At least, that is what Harry thought. Hermione insisted he had a 'saving people thing'. "I'm glad that you are happy, but you need to snap out of this stupid kind of awe you are in and get back to Hunting. The Apocalypse won't stop itself you know."

Bobby stared at the young angel in front of him in surprise. The impression he had gotten off the angels he had met in the past was that they were all dicks. And that was putting it politely. They thought themselves above humans in every way and if they chose to heal a human, they would expect worship from them for all eternity.

Harry's reply when Bobby mentioned this was surprising to both of the Hunters in the room. "Yeah well, I'm not like most of my family." God, they didn't know how true that was, Harry's thoughts strayed. He wasn't anything like the other angels and he was certainly not like his human Aunt. "Most angels are pompous bastards that don't know what it is like on Earth anymore. The last time they came down here was when everyone worshipped faithfully and was fearful to commit sin. Nowadays, there is sin all over and hardly anyone truly believes. Just ask Castiel, he will explain what it was like the last time he was here compared to how it is now."

Dean shifted his gaze from Bobby to the angel, remembering his questions from earlier when Castiel was mentioned. "Why did you call Castiel 'uncle'? I thought angels were brothers and sisters or something like that?" Dean asked bluntly.

Harry sighed. He knew that Winchesters would have questions that would bring them closer to the truth about what Harry really was. He knew the fate of Dean Winchester – Michael was very vocal on 'angel radio' about wanting his vessel so he could once again cast his corrupt brother, Lucifer, back into the pits of hell. If you asked Harry, Michael sounded a little bit too eager. The sadistic bastard.

Harry also knew that Dean and his younger brother had been the ones to break the first and last seals that had allowed the Apocalypse to happen. Surprisingly (even to himself) Harry found that he didn't blame the Winchester brothers. Angels and demons were as bad as each other when it came to manipulating humans. Castiel was the only angel Harry had met so far that wanted to save humans and wasn't doing it just because he was told to by his superiors. That is why Harry didn't consider the other angels his family.

"Castiel already told you that angelic rank and Grace is inherited." Harry finally decided to be honest. "I inherited mine from my mother, Sofiel. Technically, in the angelic family tree, Castiel is my uncle. You understand?"

Dean nodded slowly. Hell, there was way more to angels than he could ever imagine. He had always thought angels were supposed to be airy fairy, who worked for the betterment of humans in the name of God. That was when he was a kid. As he got older, his faith had dwindled. Now that he knew for a fact that angels existed, he couldn't help but think they were all bitches in their attitude to humans. Except Castiel and his nephew, Ezekiel.

Harry stood and put his sunglasses back on his nose. "Look, we have to go. Places to be and all that." Pulling his wallet out and digging around inside, Harry pulled out a plain white card with his number on it. He debated with himself for a second, before coming to a decision. He placed the card on the arm of the sofa. "Here is my number. Call if you need anything."

"Why?" Dean stupidly asked, before being whacked by Bobby and being called an idjit. Harry couldn't help the smile that graced his features and it was this simple expression that caused Dean to stare. The smile lightened all the angel's features and caused his eyes to glow brightly. He looked more……human was the only way Dean could describe it. Looking away, Dean was confused by his own thoughts.

"Because Castiel wants to help you, but won't be there all the time. His search is important. I want to help him, so the least I could do is to make sure none of you die." Harry shrugged. "Castiel seems fond of you for some reason."

Harry stalked towards the door and held it open, waiting for Hermione. She smiled at Bobby and nodded to Dean. "It was a pleasure to meet you properly this time." Dean refrained from making one of his typical comments about her wearing nearly no clothes the last time they met, aware that Ezekiel was watching them. Hermione continued hesitantly. "Could you tell Sam that it was nice to properly meet him and that we will see him again in the future?" Getting a nod from Dean, Hermione slipped out of the house, closely followed by the angel. Shaking his head as he heard the car start with a roar, Dean contemplated just how bad their life could become if Ezekiel went out of his way to make it hell.

*

"Hermione."

It was over three hours into the drive away from Bobby's and this was the first time Harry had spoken. He hadn't said anything as they had gotten in to the car, just given Hermione a calculating look that she couldn't work out. Harry's eyes had been on the road and silence had reined since their departure.

"Look, you know I'm not good at stuff like this." Harry ran a hand through his hair, his sharp gaze never leaving the road. Hermione twisted around in her seat to look at her brother as he continued. "I'll just come right out and say it."

"Say what?" Hermione finally had to ask in confusion.

"Samuel Winchester." Harry's eyes darted from the road to Hermione's face for a mere few seconds, but it was enough for him to read the minute expressions that were crossing her features at the mention of the younger Winchester brother. He had known her long enough.

"I know that you like him." Harry was blunt.

Hermione thought about denying it, but knew that Harry could pick up a lie from a mile away, especially when it was her doing the lying. Damn his angelic half. "Fine! Yes, I like him. There, happy now?"

Harry's face broke into a huge smile as Hermione stamped her foot, even though she was seated. He was glad that Hermione had finally found someone that she liked. Harry went through one night stand after another, but he wasn't searching for 'the one' as Hermione often explained to him. She believed in true love, which was something Harry couldn't make himself believe.

"Well, I'm happy for you. He is good looking, and most Hunters have really good bodies." Harry grinned when Hermione blushed.

"Shut up." She muttered, still pink. "It'll be difficult though. I don't think…..I'm not going to do anything about it."

Harry looked at Hermione's dejected face and pulled over next to the road, ignoring the honks from the cars that had to slow down to overtake him. "Why not?" He demanded.

"Harry," Hermione calmly met his intense gaze. "We are in the middle of the Apocalypse. I doubt he is considering getting into a real relationship. And he thinks we are a couple."

Harry pouted. "All of those things can be fixed. And sod the Apocalypse. If we are going to die, we might as well have some fun before we go down fighting, right?"

Hermione looked at the determined look on Harry's face when he mentioned the end of the world and smiled. Harry would do anything to help the war effort, yet he would always put herself and her needs first. "I don't even know if he likes me, Harry."

Harry deftly pulled the car back onto the road, flipping some guy in a truck the finger when he blasted his car horn at them in annoyance. "He likes you Hermione." Harry reassured her. "Trust me. I've seen how he looks at you. He definitely wants you. Although," Harry ground out, "he better want a real relationship with you and not just want to sleep with you. He will pay big time if that is the case."

Hermione smiled as Harry looked at road and placed her hand over his that was loosely holding the steering wheel and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She loved it when he went all avenging angel and defender of honour. "Harry, don't go all smiting angel on me." She chided, but they both knew she didn't mean it.

*

"So he died with no visible signs on his body at all? Are you sure it wasn't just old age?"

"Harry!" Hermione whacked her brother around the head, hard. It had been a couple of weeks since they had met with Bobby and they were searching for a new hunt. They were currently in Nevada and had just had a great time exercising Harry's bank account at the casinos. But after a week or two, Harry had become twitchy. Hermione immediately began to search for a new Hunt and thought she had found one worth investigating. It was in Stagecoach, on the California Emigrant Trail.

"He was 47, Harry. That isn't very old."

"Fine." Harry rolled his eyes, but inside he was excited. He loved to Hunt and this none sounded interesting and might present more of a challenge than the salt-and-burns they had been stuck doing recently. "God, I hate small towns."

A couple of hours later, they were checking into the town's only motel. They got ridiculous amounts of stares as they drove through the small town. It was like these people had never seen a sports car before. But Hermione had to remind Harry that most of them probably hadn't. They didn't stay long in the rooms they had booked in the slightly dated motel. They changed into business suits and proceeded to the Coroner's office. Harry was very eager to get started on this case. He was like a child in a candy store.

"So, Dave had an English great uncle, eh?" The Coroner said as he led them to the body of the late David Stalling. "None of us knew that."

"Neither did he, Sir." Harry said politely. They had told the Coroner that Harry was from the British Embassy and that Hermione was his assistant. Harry had used magic to show fake IDs. But the Coroner had just believed the story that he had been fed – that Harry worked for the Embassy and was searching for lost family members of a dead British business man. They had told him that they had gotten wind of David Stalling and that he had died and that they were required to confirm the cause of death for their records.

It was the most unbelievable story that Harry had ever made up, but the man before him (and everyone else in town) seemed to take the lie at face value and believed it so far. Harry had no jurisdiction here, either in real life or the fiction cover he had created, but these people were going out of their way to give Harry whatever he wanted. Hermione put it down to Harry's air of authority that demanded obedience.

"So, any suspects?" Harry bluntly asked. Seeing the man's slightly surprised look, Harry continued. "We both know that there is no reason he should be dead. So, find anything?"

"Well," the Coroner was hesitant, but continued, "I found some finger prints on his chest from one of the boys in town. But the local police already spoke to him. He was with his friends that night and said his finger prints got onto the victim when he bumped into him earlier and they both fell down. There is no reason to suspect him, except –"

"Except……" Harry demanded the Coroner continue.

"Well, there was a rumour when the boy was born that Dave was his father, but the lad's mother never admitted who the Daddy was. The rumours stopped but have recently been going around again. You know what small towns are like."

"Not really. I come from London, so small towns are a mystery to me." Harry amiably shrugged. "If the boy was his son, then we will need to investigate this."

The Coroner nodded eagerly. The town was always a boring place where little happened, so people from a different state would be interesting enough. A person from a different country was guaranteed to keep the gossip going for months at least.

"The lad, Jeremy Mitchell, is part of the teenage group around here." Harry raised an eyebrow in confusion. "There is an abandoned house about 20 minutes down the main road that most of the teenagers from this town go to. I don't know what they do there, but I think they listen to gothic rock music and all that rubbish. I know Jeremy is into the occult." The Coroner shrugged this off as insignificant.

Harry looked down at the middle aged man on the metal table in front of him. There were no visible signs of, well, anything. The man seemed to be in good health and there as no bruising or other signs of trauma. It was mystery how he died, but Harry could feel something off about this man. Subtly raising his right hand, he connected with the power of the Resurrection Stone. He was suddenly hit by a wave of energy as he connected with the imprint of the soul that had previously occupied the body. Damn, this was bad.

Back at the motel, Hermione barged into Harry's room after they had changed out of the suits and demanded to know what he had found. "The soul was almost…..ripped from the body." Harry frowned as he tried to explain. "But it was done in an untalented and rough way."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means that we are dealing with a wannabe necromancer." Harry lay back on his bed, arms threw behind his head. "Damn, I hate dealing with necromancers. They have no idea what they are dealing with. Now, if you excuse me," Harry closed his eyes and relaxed into the bed, "I'm going to get some sleep and we can pick up some leads on that Jeremy guy."

*

"So, this guy has no visible signs of trauma that could account for why he died?"

"No, none at all. I can't really see why the Feds are interested in this. We're just a small town and this is the only suspicious death." Dean looked over at the Coroner as he frowned at them in confusion.

Putting on his charming and confident smile, Dean reassured the man. "Federal Agents are here to protect the people in this country. We feel that Mr Stalling's death requires investigation."

"Right." The Coroner still looked dubious for a moment, before an excited look appeared on his face. "Does this have anything to do with that charming and well spoken British man that has come here, claiming Dave had some kind of grand inheritance and that he is from the British Embassy?"

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "We can't comment on that Sir." Sam smiled politely at the man. "Thank you for your time."

"So, some guy appears just after a man dies suddenly, even though he was in perfect health." Sam said as they left the office and got into the waiting Impala. "Seems a little bit suspicious."

"Damn, I hate small towns. Gossip spreads like nobody's business." Dean muttered as they drove to their motel (the only one in town) and got many stared from the people they passed. "So, I was thinking maybe it could be witches. You know, the Coroner mentioned something about the local teenagers being into the occult. Could be an experiment gone wrong."

"It could be." Sam agreed. He frowned as he looked at their motel. "Hey, this is the only motel in town isn't it?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well," Sam slowly explained as if speaking to a child, which caused his brother to glare at him. "this guy must be staying here then, if he is staying in this town. It is worth investigating."

"Good idea Sammy" Dean closed the door on his car and looked towards the motel office with a smirk. "The receptionist was pretty hot you know. And she liked my smile."

"Right." Sam muttered, shaking his head. As Dean wandered off to flirt with the receptionist, Sam opened the trunk of the car and subtly loaded some guns with bullets. This guy could be innocent, but they had to make sure before they followed another lead.

"The guy is in room 13." Dean hurried back and pulled his tie and suit jacket off. He accepted the gun from Sam and held it hidden by his side. They silently made their way to the room, noting that it was the furthest away from the office. The light was out in the room and Sam made quick work of picking the lock.

Dean cautiously entered the room, his gun raised and Sammy closely following him. The door slammed shut behind them and their guns were ripped out of their hands. Hearing a grunt of pain, Dean shouted his brother's name, only to be slammed into the wall by a dark figure. Dean tried to make out who – or what- it was as he struggled against the vice like grip that was keeping him pinned to the wall.

The light suddenly flicked on as the door reopened and closed. Hermione stood there, her mouth open as she took in the scene before her. Sam Winchester was on the ground, looking dazed and holding a bloody nose. Even now, Hermione could see one of his eyes was rapidly bruising. Harry had Dean pinned against the wall, his body pressed against him and his hands pinning Dean's wrists in place as he struggled against the strength of her brother.

"Oh." Harry looked over at Sam on the floor and his gaze snapped back to Dean. "It's just you Winchesters."

"Erm," Dean shifted his weight, only now seeming to realise what position he and the angel were in. "Think you could let me go?"

Harry took in the uncomfortable look on Dean's face and smirked. He was pissed at being woken up in such a rude way. He had thought it was a demon or something else trying to kill him and he was ready for a fight, the adrenaline pumping. But know he knew it was the Winchesters, his anger turned into mischief. "I don't know. I'm kind of enjoying this position."

"Harry, just get off him." Hermione berated, before freezing and realising that she had called Harry by his real name. She would never have normally slipped, but she had woken up to screeching from the ward they had set around their rooms to alert them to intruders.

Pulling back from the elder Hunter, Harry looked at Hermione and smiled reassuringly, letting her know that it was ok and he held no grudge for her slip. Continuing as though nothing had happened, Harry demanded to know why the Winchesters were breaking into his room.

"We were investigating the suspicious death in town and heard about some British guy that arrived just after the death." Sam answered shortly, smiling softly as Hermione helped him up off the floor and to sit on the bed.

Hermione looked at her brother imploringly, who rolled his eyes before stalking towards Sam. Gently holding his face, Harry concentrated and healed the damaged that he himself had inflicted. "Well, obviously it wasn't me. It was a wannabe necromancer."

"Ok." Dean watched closely as the angel healed his brother. He hadn't failed to notice Hermione's slip, but he was going to let it go. For now at least. "So, how are we going to do this? We aren't going to give up this hunt and I don't think you will either."

Harry stood up straight and looked Sam over once more, making sure he hadn't missed any damage. "Yeah, I think I can deal with working with you. So, there is a cult of teenagers just outside town. We should go and check that out."

"Ok." Dean noticed how the angel – he wasn't sure if he should call him Harry or Ezekiel – got straight down to business.

"Hermione, take my car and you and Sam drive out to the house they are supposedly in." Harry threw his keys to Hermione, receiving a nod in agreement. "Dean and I will follow in their car. That ok with you?"

Dean saw the challenge in the intense green gaze and refused to be beaten by it. He didn't know why, but the angel managed to bring out the competitive side of him. "Fine. Go with her Sammy. We'll be behind you."

Sam looked at his brother and nodded silently. Following Hermione out of the door, he stopped when he heard a voice calling him back. He turned around and saw the angel's eyes were hard and cold. The voice sent shivers down his spine.

"Let anything happen to my sister and I will track you down to the end of the Earth and nothing will stop me from hurting you. Nothing."

*

The car was silent as Hermione pulled out of the car parking lot. Sam stared at her, trying to figure it out. The angel – Harry, Ezekiel or whatever he was called- had called her his sister, which was something that Sam couldn't work out. From what he had seen, the woman next to him was just an ordinary person. Well, as ordinary as a Hunter could be.

"Just ask me."

Sam looked up in surprise and looked at the brunette next to him. Her eyes never left the road, but her grip had tightened on the steering wheel and her posture betrayed how tense she was.

"Why did he call you his sister?" Sam guardedly asked. "I thought you and he were…..well, erm…..dating?"

"No." Hermione's answer was short. "He is my brother. I was just pretending we were together because I wanted to shock you. You did just wake me up in the middle of the night."

"Are you angel?" Sam's voice was quiet.

Hermione relaxed slightly and gave a small smile. "No. I know it is hard to understand, but I've known Harry for years. He is like a brother to me in all but blood. We are all each other have left – except Castiel, of course."

"I don't think I fully understand and probably never will, but I know what you mean when you say that you only have each other. Dean and I, we only have each other since our Dad died." Sam's voice was quiet and when he met Hermione's eye, a shy smile graced his features.

*

"So….." Dean spoke over the silence in the car. They had left the motel about 10 minutes after Sam and Hermione and there had been quiet reigning in the car since. Sighing, Dean decided to be blunt. "So you aren't banging Hermione?"

Harry hissed in anger, causing the hair to rise on the back of Dean's neck. He suddenly realised that he had definitely said the wrong thing. "That is my sister you are talking about, you bastard."

"Sorry." Dean looked over at him, and Harry saw the sincerity in his gaze. "I'm just a little, you know, confused."

"Hermione is my sister in all but blood. I have known her for years and she is all I have left, besides Castiel. I would do anything to save and protect her." Harry's gaze was cold and hard. "Anything."

Dean looked over at the angel next to him. This was the kind of angel he had been expecting – one that would be all avenging and want to protect humans, not help get rid of him. Castiel was off on his quest to find God and all the other angels were just dicks, in Dean's opinion. "And what do you want to be call – Ezekiel or Harry?"

Harry smiled. "Whatever you want to call me. I know that you don't understand right now, but I'm sure that I'll explain everything to you." Harry's smiled turned into a impish smirk. "Maybe."

Dean sent a glare at the angel next to him. "Fine." He huffed. "I'll just call you Harry for now then. At least it is more normal sounding than Ezekiel."

Harry gave a laugh that died off as soon as he saw the building come into sight. It was a rundown house – but Harry would describe it as more of a shack than anything else. It looked ready to fall down with one good gust of wind. Harry looked around for Hermione and Sam, but couldn't see them anywhere. He saw his beautiful car, but his sister and the hunter were nowhere to be seen.

Frowning, Harry silently signalled Dean and they both quietly moved around to the door. Counting down on his hand, Harry gave the signal to storm inside. It wasn't the best plan, by either Harry or Dean's standards, but they both trusted in Harry's abilities. This was ironic for Dean, who would never normally trust anyone except himself and his brother. He had no idea why he would suddenly trust Harry and his sister, especially considering that most angels he had met were such bastards.

Pushing the door open, they both stormed inside and took in the scene before them. Sam was tied to a column and was slumped over slightly. He had a small trail of blood running down his head, indicating that he had been hit hard to incapacitate him. Hermione was tied to a chair in the centre of an intricate occult design painted on the floor.

Here a scuffle behind him, Harry saw that Dean was fighting three men. He managed to get some good punches in but lost his gun when a fourth man joined the fight. The man who had wrestled the gun from Dean turned it on Harry, who sighed and dropped the gun he was holding. A gothic girl ran forward and quickly picked it up. Dean was dragged to where Sam was tied up and was restrained there with his brother.

"So." A man – or rather a teenage boy- who was wearing all black and too much eyeliner, in Harry's opinion, stepped forward and was looking Harry up and down. "You are the British man everyone is talking about."

"That would be me." Harry gave a mock bow and salute, which just seemed to piss the teenager off.

"You have no idea what you are getting into here. You just had to come and investigate." The boy's voice raised in annoyance. "Now, we're gonna have to kill you."

"Like you killed David Stalling." Harry's voice and posture was casual, almost as though he were having a conversation about the weather, not the supernatural murder of a middle aged man. "You're just going to have to accept that he didn't want or care about you."

"You fucking bastard!" Jeremy screamed. "He had no idea about the things I could do! I'm powerful and could control life and death!"

"Yeah, yeah." Harry stood straighter and become serious suddenly. "You are the one who really has no idea what you are doing, Jeremy. You are playing with things that you don't understand."

"Don't do that!" Jeremy shouted, his voice shaking in anger. "Don't talk to me like I'm some stupid kid!" He turned to look at Hermione, who was watching her brother. "I'll deal with her later. And those two." He gestured towards the Winchester brothers, who continued to struggle even harder against their bonds. "But you," the Goth snarled at Harry, "You, I'll deal with right now."

Harry watched as Jeremy began to chant in ancient Greek, the words flowing smoothly together. Harry had to admit that the kid was good and his Greek was almost flawless. Sighing, because he really hated what he was about to do, but he knew he had no choice. Now that Jeremy had gotten a taste for Necromancy he wouldn't let it go. He would be driven to continue by the need to feel more and more power that he could gain from the black art.

Harry looked sadly at Hermione, who could see the anguish in her brother's eyes. She knew Harry could find no other way to stop the teenager and smiled at him to show that she understood and stood by his decision. She could feel the building of magic energy as Harry allowed it to pool in the palms of his hands. Pushing the energy outwards, but making sure to shield herself and the Winchesters, Harry released the stunner and knocked out all the members of the cult, except Jeremy.

Jeremy stumbled over his chanting and stopped completely when all the other teenagers fell to the floor, unconscious. He looked from the prone figures on the floor to Harry and back again. His shock turned to fear as Harry stepped towards his slowly.

Dean struggled against the ropes that held him against the column. He was annoyed at himself for getting into this position, but there was nothing he could do. He became still when Harry made the entire cult, except the kid – Jeremy – pass out. Sure, he'd seen angels knock people out before, but never this many and certainly never without touching them.

"What – How- What the hell are you?!" Dean watched as Jeremy desperately tried to find an exit ad Harry slowly stalked towards him. But there was no escape from the currently emotionless angel.

He watched as Harry raised his right hand, and the ring there glowed with an eerie light. He watched as Jeremy fell to his knees, clutching at his chest. "No." Jeremy moaned. "Please don't take my soul. Please."

Dean's eyebrows almost disappeared into his hair as he watched the angel clench his hand shut. Jeremy's body fell to the floor and remained still. Harry had his eyes closed and seemed to be in deep concentration. A shadowy outline of a man appeared before him, before fading away silently.

Harry took a deep breath and waved his hand at the Winchesters, releasing them from their bindings. He stalked over to Hermione and physically untied her from the chair. He was about to turn away from her, but she darted up and grabbed his face gently.

Dean saw Hermione force the angel to meet her gaze. Harry stared at her for a moment, before pulling the shorter woman into a tight hug. Dean saw the emotions running over the angels face before he buried it in his sister's neck. He watched as Hermione ran a soothing hand up and down the angels back, muttering reassurances to him. He never thought he would see an angel looking so vulnerable.