Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, some of them have been very helpful, I would love more of those, I'm trying to make my writing better and if there is anything that you think I should improve on please tell me. The last chapter was a bit dissatisfying for me but I think this one is better, at least I hope it is.

Chapter 7:

They had just left Neil, scared and nervous in his office; Angela had been there, just behind the door. Hermione just hoped she had heard their plan, that she would meet them at the cemetery and they could finish this thing.

Dean and Sam were going over the plan; explaining it to her one more time, though she had gotten it the first time they had gone over it. Sam was going to be bait; Dean and Hermione were going to be waiting by the grave. Dean would stake her and Hermione would make sure she didn't get the better of Dean and go climbing out of the coffin, again. It was a simple plan and she felt glad that they were including her. Didn't think they would have after she had gone and stupidly followed them.

She had been berating herself for her actions for the last couple of hours. She knew better, there was no way she wouldn't have done that back home. She wouldn't have risked herself or others in that kind of situation; not even if she had wanted to be involved. The department of mysteries had been different. Hermione prided herself on her brains, running in without thinking beyond the fact that she wanted to be involved was not smart. Running straight into the zombie and getting in the way of the fight had been incredibly dangerous. She knew what that thing could have done when it had been standing over her; didn't understand why it hadn't, but Hermione was going to take that painful lesson to heart.

They were all crouching around the open grave; thankfully it hadn't been filled in yet. They each lit candles around the grave without speaking; listening for any tell tale signs that Angela had arrived. A twig snapped and Sam quickly moved off; gun pointed in front of him. Hermione moved to crouch behind some tombstones while Dean moved off to the side, out of the light.

A gun went off and Sam came running into their view; Angela sprinting after him. The zombie moved, fast, smooth; Hermione wondered if Angela had been able to move like that when she had been alive.

Angela tackled Sam and Hermione heard a faint snap; Angela grabbed Sam around the head and Dean fired into her chest. Angela stood back up and screamed, she was standing in front of her open grave and Dean continued firing into her torso. Hermione crept up beside the girl. Dean gave her a nod and stopped firing. Hermione took the shovel they had brought with them and swung it, two handed, into Angela's chest. The zombies breath left her body in a surprised huff and Angela fell back into the grave. Dean slid in after her and plunged his stake straight through Angela's heart, pinning her to the silk covered wood.

'What's dead should stay dead.' Hermione couldn't agree more, and kept a careful look on Angela, watching to see if that had done it. Dean climbed out of the grave and Sam joined them as they looked at the young woman in the white dress, finally at peace; wooden stake notwithstanding.

They took turns shoveling dirt back into the grave, it took a while but finally it was done and they could leave.

Sam's arm was broken, and they made the decision to go to the hospital; get it plastered, set it if it needed to be set. Dean had made his customary wise arse remarks but it was a necessary trip. Hermione hadn't been to a muggle hospital since she had been eleven; it was turning out to be a rather odd experience.

St. Mungos had been filled with chaos; there were always such strange things that went wrong with magic, but there was always an air of calm within the walls. Everybody entering always had faith in the knowledge that magic could fix anything.

In this hospital Hermione saw more worried looks, more fear. She looked around nervously as they waited for a doctor to heal Sam.

'What are you looking at?' Dean leaned into her and she looked up into his calm eyes, she knew hospitals weren't anything special to him, but it frightened her that they had to go through all of this without magic, without an instant fix.

'I don't like hospitals.' Magic wasn't a cure all, people died and there was nothing that brought them back. Magic gave the illusion but she could see the lie in a place like this; it made it all more real. She suddenly had a desperate need for her boys back home. They were at war and magic wasn't going to fix it and make it go away, just like it wasn't going to fix Sam's arm in the next couple of minutes.

'Yeah, hospitals pretty much suck, but what are you going to do.'

'Magic, can fix broken bones in minutes, just with a couple of words, even when an arm goes missing, it can be reattached. You don't have that, and I don't know the spell to fix Sam, I can't help him.' She recognized how careless she had been, not learning healing magic, vowed that she would learn as much as she could as soon as she could.

'Sam's had broken bones before, he's always healed just fine. You aren't a doctor, and it isn't your job.' Dean gave her an admonishing look, but he didn't understand. She could do so much with magic, and it was shameful that she couldn't do this.

Dean put his hand on the back of his sisters' neck as she looked down at her faded jeans. He turned her head to him, made her look at him. He got that she was a witch, he didn't understand what all that entailed but he got enough. Knew that she could probably do some pretty fearsome things; he wouldn't have been comfortable her trying them out on Sammy but didn't want her to feel bad because she couldn't produce a miracle out of her hat every time one of them was hurt. She looked at him with her big brown eyes and she looked so young. He felt guilty that he had brought her back into their lives, into this pain, but she was family and he was selfish enough not to regret it.

'You don't have to do anything Hermione, you could fix it but you don't know how, that's alright. You'll just learn how to do it for next time. Sam is being looked after and he's not going to complain, it's not that big a deal; although if I ever lose my arm I want you to put it back on.' Dean was rewarded with a watery smile and he frowned because he hadn't wanted her to cry. She flung her arms around him and he patted her back awkwardly before putting his arms around her and hugging her back.

His thoughts drifted to his father and the last words the man had spoken to him. Sam was different, physic and his father had told him that he might have to kill him one day, if he couldn't save him. The words had haunted him, had made him look at Sam differently. He held the sister that his father had kicked out of the family because she was different and he began to doubt his father's words. The man was good but even he wasn't right about everything. If he had been wrong about Hermione then by god he was going to be wrong about Sam too. He thought of Gordon who had killed his own sister just because she had been a vampire; thought on how the man had thought they had been so similar. Dean would rather die than to be the one to end his baby brothers' life. He looked down at the mass of brown curly hair belonging to his sister, and wanted to be a better man than his father. He would save what family he had left; there wasn't anything in the world that would stop him.

The next day, they cleared the hotel; removed all evidence that they had ever been there. They drove down the highway, trying to get at least a few towns away from Angela's. They had upset too many people, had left too many bodies behind. It was standard procedure to get as far from the town they had ended a hunt in, just to be on the safe side.

Dean had left the music off and Sam and Hermione were looking at him strangely. He looked nervous, jittery, angry. Something had to give and just as Sam opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, Dean slowed the car and pulled off to the side of the road. He parked the car and stumbled out of the car as if he couldn't get away fast enough. He paced anxiously before settling himself against the front of the Impala. He ran his hands through his hair and Sam and Hermione exchanged a worried look before following him out.

They settled themselves on either side of them, waiting. Dean had been acting strange, on edge and hopefully this would lead to explanations.

Dean breathed deeply, sucking in air, trying to force the words from his gut. He explained his fear that his father had sacrificed himself to save him. He let the tears flow from his eyes.

'So tell me, what could you say that could possibly make that alright?'

Sam gave Dean an anguished look while Dean looked solidly ahead. Hermione gave them both fierce eyes.

' He did it because you're worth it Dean. I may not know much about the man, but I have always known how much he loved you both. I have never doubted that.' Sam noticed the way she didn't mention their father loving her but let it go for the minute. Their father had loved his little girl, but he had gotten scared. A scared John Winchester was a frightening thing, the amount of anger that it induced had killed many a monster. Sam knew the man had loved all of his children even if he sucked at showing it.

'There wasn't any other choice Dean, you were dying and Dad did what had to be done. Dad did the right thing. It was not your fault that you were hurt that bad; and if you want to blame somebody, you blame that yellow eyed fucker.' Dean was looking at her with not a little bit of awe and Hermione gave him a fierce look of love, a show of force she had only ever used on her boys since she had discovered it in her arsenal.

'Hermione language.' Dean and Hermione turned slowly to Sam, they stared at him incredulously. Sam blushed and they both laughed at him, because a Winchester trying to curtail anybodies language was just laughable. The tension was broken and they moved to continue driving. Sam got in the car first and before Dean could follow Hermione caught him in a fierce hug and held on tightly.

'I'm glad you're not dead, and I've never been more proud of our father for anything he has ever done; even if he had to make a deal with that fucker to do it.' She let him go and moved to the back seat of the car, she didn't see the tears streaming down Dean's face at her heartfelt words.

Dean sat Hermione down on one of the beds and surrounded her with guns. He had handed her a cloth and a small bottle of oil and told her to get cleaning. Dean sat on his own bed with his knifes lovingly displayed before him. Sam sat at the little table with his laptop in front of him trying to find another hunt.

Dean was nattering away at Hermione; explaining all of the weapons and what they were best used for; Hermione listened to him, rapt, soaking up the information as if she were going to be tested on it. The training had started that morning when Dean had woken her up with the sun and had made her run with him and Sam, apparently something they did whenever they could. She hadn't known because it had always happened to early; she had grumbled but had gone. They had left her in the dust and she hoped that it was just her ribs and not that she was actually that unfit. She had handled herself well in the department of mysteries but knew most of that had been adrenalin.

' I can't find anything that looks like it could be something. I think we should head to the roadhouse, see if they have something.' Hermione looked up at that.

'What's the roadhouse?' She continued cleaning the gun she had been working on, carefully removing the powder from it having been fired.

'It's a bar for hunters, Dad knew 'em but we aren't sure how.' Dean watched her carefully, trying to not make it obvious but making sure she cleaned everything correctly. He was pleased with the way she handled them, glad that she hadn't forgotten everything she had been taught in her years away.

'Do you think they would have a hunt?' Hermione scratched an itch on her leg with the unloaded gun and she jumped in surprise as Dean snatched it out of her hand. She looked at him oddly as he patted the gun a bit and continued to scratch at the prevalent itch.

'I think there's a pretty good chance, they gave us one the last time we were there.' Sam gave a shifty look and she watched as Dean grinned widely at his brother.

'It was killer clowns.' Sam shifted uncomfortably and Hermione matched Dean's grin, she remembered a carnival that they had gone to when Hermione had been nine. Sam had come out of that carnival and convinced their dad that they clowns at the place were evil. Their dad had gone into the carnival after it had shut down and almost killed several of the carnies. It had been messy and they had had to leave town that night; John had yelled at Sam throughout the drive but her and Dean had taunted Sam by pretending to be clowns for ages after that. Sam had been scared of clowns for years before that event, but that carnival had brought the fear to Dean's attention. It had been hilarious.

'Did the clowns get you Sam.' They both laughed at Sam's pout.

'Shut up.'

'So Hermione any boyfriends out there that we should know about?' Sam deflected the conversation quite nicely onto Hermione and she poked her tongue out at him.

'Just Harry and Ron, we've been friends since my first year.' She spoke of them lovingly because she didn't know any other way.

'And which one are we going to have to have a word too?' Because they were her big brothers and that was one of the perks of the job. Hermione blushed.

'We'd probably just have to talk to both.' Dean laughed until Hermione's blush deepened and she looked down in embarrassment.

'Both?' Hermione shrugged uncomfortably because it was something that had crossed her mind before but she had never voiced her thoughts on the matter.

'It's not like I wanted to like them both, but that's just the way it is, it's either both of them or neither of them, and I don't want anybody else.' It all made her blush horribly but to her there really wasn't any other option, it was either both or none. She just didn't know how to get them to see it.

'Well, that's different.' Dean rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably because this was walking very quickly into the range of chick-flick moment and it didn't seem to want to stop. Hermione shrugged again.

'Well two at once is always more fun. Sam you remember that pair before you went off to school, man they were smoking.' Dean shook himself out of his dazed memories of most wonderful times and looked at his sister encouragingly. She was giving him a wide eyed look of horror.

'Please stop.' Sam nodded emphatically along with her his eyes just that little bit wide as well.

'What?'

'No Naked talk.'

'Just saying that I support you, in whoever you choose to be with.' Dean gave her an innocent look and she faltered. He grinned widely and she hit him because he had definitely done that on purpose.

'No naked talk.' Sam said it with more determination.

'No Naked talk.' Dean agreed regretfully. Naked talk was the best kind of talk.

Dean handed Hermione back the gun he had taken from her when she had treated it badly, and settled himself back down to his knives.

'What kind of classes do you take?'

'Astronomy, Ancient ruins, Arithmancy, history of magic, potions, care of magical creatures, Defense against the dark arts. It's all very interesting.' Hermione held up a clean piece of a gun, Dean motioned to the gun it was supposed to go with.

'What is your favorite class?'

'I enjoy potions but Professor Snape makes it difficult. Arithmancy and Ancient Ruins are challenging, History is interesting but the teacher is a ghost and very boring. Care is interesting, and Defense is a fantastic subject but our teacher's have always been erratic, the last year was horrible, a real toad of a woman. ' Hermione talked about it all with Passion and fire and Sam smiled to see it in her, she had shared a love of school with him when she had been younger and he was glad to see that it hadn't gone away.

'You've got a teacher who's a ghost?' Sam could see Dean's brain working, wondering how he could around flying to England to salt and burn her teacher's bones.

'Yeah he'd been a teacher for years and then one day he'd gone to sleep and died and just risen as a ghost and continued on teaching as if nothing had happened.'

'Why'd they keep him on?'

'Probably easier then looking for another teacher. Besides the school is very big on tradition. Everything is so old and it's filled with families that have gone there for generations.' There was an unspoken dissatisfaction with the system it seemed, Dean understood that, at least partially. They had all met those types of people, the ones who came from old money and thought they were so much better than anybody who looked like Dean and his family did. It had grated on him when he had been younger and it grated on him now.

'There are four houses that have been around since the founders' time, and everything is set around them. Nobody really talks outside their own house and everybody has expectations of people depending on what house you were sorted into when you were eleven. It's very outdated and prejudiced.'

'What house are you in?'

'Gryffindor. It's the house reputed for bravery. '

'Well that does describe you.' Sam smiled as he said it, she obviously loved her school despite its problems and he loved hearing about it, made him want to see it for himself.

Hermione smiled at both her brothers; they were taking everything so well, they had had years to get used to it, but they were actually asking her questions and listening to her answers. It made her wish she had brought some things from home that she could have shown them. She hadn't because she hadn't wanted to remind them of what she was, had been ashamed in some way. It made her feel silly now with the way they were handling it all, and she wished she had been able to explain it like this with her father. She sighed sadly at that missed opportunity, at the fact that he'd never know. She held up another mystery piece of gun to Dean and he motioned to where it went, giving her hints but letting her figure it out on her own. She had always thought that the best way to learn and was pleased she and Dean agreed on it.

To be continued…