The next week was spent with the youngest Winchesters getting to know each other. Dean and Sam may have had a childhood together, but their time apart changed them. Harry was a source of great curiosity from the younger brother, and the duo could spend hours discussing anything. Dean and Millie on the other hand used the opportunity to grow even closer. By Saturday, Millie had agreed to go on a date with Harry's dad.

The duo decided to go out to their favorite restaurant and afterwards see a movie. Millie admitted that she didn't mind the 'Winchester Style of Dating' as she called it. While they were out, Sam volunteered his services in keeping Harry company. The younger boy refused to be babysat. The two Winchesters were playing Boggle when Sam's phone rang. He answered it without a glance to the caller ID.

"Hello?" Sam asked, writing down a word he spotted.

"Sam?" said a gruff voice, making Sam drop his pencil.

"Dad!"

"Where are you? I need your help on this case right away."

Sam looked annoyed, "I can't just drop everything right now, dad. I have a prior engagement."

John swore, "Damn it Sam! I don't have time for your arguments. People are dying and I can't do this on my own!"

Sam decided that Dean wouldn't want his son exposed to his conversation with the youngest boy's temperamental grandfather. He went into the kitchen and closed the door firmly. He pulled out a pot and set about making some macaroni and cheese for dinner. It was about that time anyway.

"Can't you get Caleb, or Bobby to help?" he asked.

"They're busy," John answered quickly.

"In other words, they're pissed off at you again," Sam said with a sigh, "What about someone else?"

"I don't trust them,"

"Of course you don't," Sam mumbled under his breath, "What's the situation?"

"It's growing more and more out of control. People are getting killed faster than I can keep up," John reluctantly admitted, "This coven of witches won't stop until they either kill off the entire town, or are forced to stop. I need help,"

"How many witches are in the coven?"

"Seven of them, if I did my research right, but one's probably a kid."

Sam swore, and then looked at the door nervously, hoping Harry didn't hear. He paced up and down the kitchen, "Dad, even if I helped, we'd be outnumbered."

John most likely scowled, "You're my only option,"

Sam couldn't help but feel angry at his father, "I'll call you back," he said, hanging up. When the phone rang once more, he ignored it until it finally grew silent. Sam knew what he had to do, but he didn't like it at all. He would have to ask Dean to help. Dean had tons of experience, and John trusted his son without doubt. He finally decided on asking Dean once he returned from his date when Harry spoke.

"That was my grandfather, wasn't it?" he asked, from behind. He somehow made it to the kitchen without Sam noticing. "He's hunting something and needs help. You're going to ask dad, aren't you?"

Sam felt guilty, "I have to," he said, "Dad won't call anyone else."

"What about Uncle Bobby?" Harry asked, hero-worship eminent.

"Wait, you know Bobby?" Sam asked.

Harry realized that he said something he shouldn't have, but the damage was done, and he reluctantly nodded. "We visit him sometimes. Dad says it's a good opportunity for him to keep up with everything. I help dad and Uncle Bobby with research when they let me."

"You go hunting?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes.

Harry quickly shook his head, "No! Dad would rather sell the Impala for spare parts." He exclaimed, "I usually stay with Bobby and do research. I have been learning a lot about hunting, but only because Dad wants me to learn how to protect myself. He told me that if I still want to hunt, it will happen no sooner than my seventeenth birthday."

Sam looked relieved. He knew Dean would be reasonable. "Wait, why seventeen?"

Harry looked nervous, "It's an important age in my mom's culture," he said evasively.

When Dean returned from his date, he was floating on cloud nine, but once he spotted their faces, his stomach plummeted. He sighed, took off his jacket and shoes, put them away and drank a shot of whiskey. He had a feeling that he wouldn't like whatever they had to say.

"So," Dean said, sitting down, "Why do I have a bad feeling?" He gave his son a significant look.

Harry smiled sheepishly but shook his head much to Dean's relief. He knew how touchy hunters were and even though Sam was his brother, he was still a hunter. Dean was Harry's dad first and a hunter second so what he learned about Lily wasn't didn't change anything.

"Dad called," Sam said, not noticing the byplay between father and son.

"That sounds ominous." Dean muttered.

"He needs help getting rid of some witches," Sam said.

Harry's eyes widened in shock and Dean quickly asked, "What kind of witches?"

Sam looked at his brother strangely, "The magic kind," he said, as if it should have been obvious, "You know the people who make demon deals for magic."

Dean deflated in relief and Harry looked curious. He didn't know that there was more than one type of witch. Dean sent Harry to the living room to watch TV. This was not a discussion for young ears. Harry looked as if he wanted to protest, but didn't. This was the one time Dean was thankful for his son's obedience.

"Why can't he ask Bobby or Caleb for help?" Dean asked.

Sam rolled his eyes, "You know dad," he said, "He can never stay on a person's good side."

Dean sighed, "Well lucky for him, he has kids who were brainwashed into loving him unconditionally."

Sam rolled his eyes, "More like brainwashed to help him hunt," he corrected, "So, are you coming?"

Dean looked over at Harry, "I don't know, Sam. I have my son to consider and do you honestly think dad will let me go once I go to him? My kid will not grow up like we did."

Sam understood, "What if I promise to help you get out again? I really could use the help with dad Dean."

Dean scowled, "Fine," he agreed, "But if someone pulls me back into that life, I will shoot them."

It took the younger Winchesters the rest of the week to prepare for their impending hunt. Dean and Harry brushed up on some of their fighting skills while Sam stocked up on supplies including salt and food. Harry had a week long break coming up and the group was taking full advantage of it. It was Friday when they were ready to leave. Millie agreed to take care of their pets for the week and they arranged for her to pick up their mail as well. They were already on the road by dinner time.

Sam looked between the road and Harry nervously, feeling rather guilty all of a sudden, "Maybe Harry should stay with Millie," he suggested.

Harry wanted to protest, but his dad cut him off with a look. Dean then winked at his son turning the boy's frown into a slight smile. "Don't worry about Harry, Sammy. I may not want this life for him, but he knows enough to protect himself. Between our Daddy-son martial arts classes and our numerous paintball gun outings, he should be covered enough to get to safety. Besides, he'll be staying with Bobby in the most supernatural-proof house in America." He said.

Sam bit his lip, something he only did when he felt insecure or scared, not that anyone but Dean knew that. "This is a bad idea." He whispered.

Dean sighed, "As much as I wish that I could keep my son out of this life, I know I can't. Hunting will always be a part of our lives."

"But I pulled you back…"

"Not true!" Harry interrupted, "Dad still goes hunting."

Dean scowled playfully at Harry, "Thanks for blurting out my secret, midget."

"You still hunt?" Sam asked with surprise evident in his expression.

Dean shrugged, "Only close to home," he explained, "To keep other hunters from coming in too close."

"But you still hunt?" Sam clarified.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Yes Sam, I still hunt. I'm a hunter, remember? We have a tendency to do that."

Harry laughed, making his dad smirk. Sam was still struggling over the fact that his brother never really stopped hunting, although Dean didn't know why. The rest of the ride was spent singing along with Metallica and the other bands in Dean's tape collection. Sam couldn't believe that Dean had Harry converted so young, and was relieved to find out that the kid liked other music too.

"But these are my favorites," Harry explained.

Sam sent a slight glare in his brother's direction, "Did you really have to brainwash my nephew into liking the music you like?" he asked.

Dean unashamedly nodded, "I couldn't risk losing him to the Light Side."

"The Light side, really?"

When they arrived at Singer's Auto Salvage, Harry was fast asleep. Sam offered to take the bags while Dean hoisted his son into his arms. It wasn't as easy as it once was, but Harry was still small for his age. They were walking up to the front door when Dean noticed their dad's truck standing next to the house. He sighed and tightened his grip on his son, waking Harry. They made it to the porch and Sam knocked. It took a moment for Harry to reorient himself from the land of Nod, but when Bobby opened the door Harry immediately knew. He wriggled out of Dean's arms and made a flying leap at the old hunter.

"Uncle Bobby!" he cried.

"Hello Runt," Bobby greeted, "I take it Sam found you." He said more to Dean.

Dean nodded as Harry gave Bobby the full run down, "He just showed up after school on Wednesday. At first I thought he was one of those annoying salesmen, but when Dad said, 'Hey Sam!' I finally recognized him from the pictures," he said, and looked like he wanted to carry on, but Dean cut him off knowing how long his little spiels were.

"Harry, why don't you get your bag from Sam and put it in your room? You can tell Uncle Bobby all about it later." Dean suggested, but Harry knew it was more of a command.

Sighing, he took his bag from his uncle and ran upstairs to unpack. Dean took advantage of Harry's absence to get to the heart of the matter.

"Bobby, why is dad's truck here?" he asked, "I thought you weren't speaking to him again."

Bobby rolled his eyes, "That father of yours is impossible. He just showed up out of the blue last night, bleedin' all over the place. I shoulda let him deal with it himself, but Harry…" he trailed off and Dean understood.

Sam didn't, "Harry, what?"

Dean chuckled and was glad to see that his brother was as clueless as ever. He said, "Dad is Harry's grandfather. Bobby didn't want to risk them not meeting."

"Oh,"

"Risk who not meeting?"

The group spun around to see John Winchester limping out of the living room, bandages practically covering every inch of him. Dean could see why his dad asked for help. It seemed these demon-deal witches were kicking his ass and taking his number.

"Hey dad," Dean said when John spotted him, "It's been a while."