Chapter 9

12 Grimmauld Place, London

Sam trooped up the stone stairs right behind Dean, trying to shake off the squirming feeling in his gut from that meet-and-greet. He was used to getting the 'you don't belong' vibe from a childhood spent moving around from place to place, but he wasn't all that used to getting it from a bunch of adults. He was having a hard time drumming up the excitement he'd had earlier in the day.

At least their guide seemed okay. She had been silent until they reached the hallway. Once the basement-kitchen door swung shut behind them, the woman stopped. Her face was kind and at the same time rather ashamed, which surprised Sam and Dean.

"I would like to apologize for all of that, boys," she said quietly, throwing a glance at a curtained portrait at the other end of the hall. "I may not be entirely happy with this situation, and Merlin, I can't believe I'm actually agreeing with Sirius on something, but any blame certainly isn't yours."

Her words still implied that she didn't agree with Dad and thought of them as just regular kids, but Sam could hardly be mad at her for that. He smiled. "It's okay, ma'am. It's not the first time we've gotten that reaction," he said with a shrug. Dean seemed a little bitterer about it, but he still gave a neutral 'it's cool' and a matching shrug.

The lady seemed relieved, before shaking her head. "None of that 'ma'am' business. Mrs. Weasley will do, or even Molly, but most everyone your age prefers Mrs. Weasley," she said.

Sam held out his hand to shake. "Sam Winchester," he offered politely. Dean was probably calling him a nancy boy in his head, but Sam was hardly going to trust his older brother with the pleasantries. Dean drew the short straw for tact in the family.

Mrs. Weasley shook his hand gladly, and luckily seemed fine with Dean just grunting his name as an introduction. "Well, I'll show you boys to the room you'll be staying in while you're here; Dumbledore thinks it best that you remain at headquarters until something solid is worked out," she explained as she led them toward the main staircase. "I'm not sure what kind of routine you'll have here, but just so you know, if you go exploring about the house you'll want to have an adult with you. There's quite a pest problem in this old place, and it's best not to stumble over them unexpected."

Sam's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. What kind of stuff did they have crawling around in here that warranted escort?

"Also, when you're in the front hallway, try not to make much noise," Mrs. Weasley went on as they climbed the stairs. Sam and Dean were only half paying attention, because they'd finally noticed the moving and talking portraits on the wall.

"Too freaky," Dean muttered, returning the eyeballing that one old lady in one of the paintings was giving him. Sam couldn't really disagree with his brother.

Downstairs, he could hear many sets of footsteps entering the hallway. Dumbledore must have let out the meeting properly. Sam took a quick peek over the banister, but he couldn't see Dad anywhere in the throng of oddly dressed wizards and witches.

Mrs. Weasley led them down a small side hallway on the second floor to the last door on the right. It seemed that Sam and Dean would share a room while Dad had his own right across the hall. "Dad and Dean aren't going to like this," Sam thought. These rooms were at the very back of the house, making a quick getaway if things went south near impossible. He didn't think the wizards meant anything by it, but it wouldn't make the rest of his family any less paranoid.

Their room, compared to some of the others Sam had caught glimpses of coming up here, was fairly small, with two fair-sized beds and a nightstand between them. The wallpaper looked like it came from the Victorian era and there was a light film of dust over most of the room, but compared to some of the motels Sam had seen in his time, this was close to luxury.

"Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything," Mrs. Weasley said as they entered the room. "The bathroom is back down the hall and on the left."

Sam gave her a quiet thank you, Dean doing the same. Mrs. Weasley hovered for a minute, looking a bit perplexed. Sam wondered if she was waiting for them to ask questions, or maybe if she thought their lack of luggage was strange. They'd left it back in their hotel room, waiting until things were all clear before bringing extra stuff along. In any case, after a moment the woman gave them a smile and left them alone.

"Well, this is going fantastic so far." Dean flopped back on his claimed bed; as always, it was the one closest to the door. He pulled out one of his smaller silver knives and began fiddling with it.

Sam shrugged as he sat down. "Can't really blame them," he said. "We'd be just as suspicious if the situation were reversed."

Dean snorted. "That's not what I got a problem with," he said as he began to flip and catch his dagger. "They can be suspicious all they want, I would just prefer they stop looking at us like we just got off the short bus because we can't do the abracadabra shit."

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. He peered around the room, really processing where they were and what they were doing for the first time. The Winchesters were in a foreign country on their biggest case yet, no Impala, few weapons, and staying in a house of people that didn't seem too enthusiastic about their presence. "Do you think we made a mistake coming here?" he asked, honestly not sure what he thought about everything. "They need our help, but if they won't listen to us then there wouldn't be any point."

Dean shrugged. "Don't know, Sammy. Just gonna have to see how it turns out," he said.

Sam guessed that was the best they could hope for. "Yeah, I guess you're – WHOA!"

The younger boy was rolling off the bed and into cover a mere second after the loud crack went off in their room. He struggled to yank one of his daggers from its hidden sheath, hurrying to back Dean up.

He heard the whistle of Dean's blade flying through the air. Startled yelps and scrambling feet followed directly after. By this time, Sam managed to free his blade and jumped up, arm poised to throw.

"Oi, sorry! Sorry!" two identical voices squawked. Sam frowned, taking in the scene. Dean was breathing heavily, wide eyes fixed on two gangly bodies topped with bright red hair that were cowering against the wall. About a foot over their heads, Sam could see Dean's dagger sticking out of the peeling wallpaper, the hilt still trembling a bit.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Dean asked, on the verge of shouting. "I coulda taken one of your damn heads off!"

"We're right glad you didn't," said one of the intruders. "I'll say this for you, you've got some skills there. Terrifying, but wicked."

Sam's arm lowered as the two intruders uncurled themselves from their hunched positions, revealing twin teenage boys around Dean's age. Sam remembered catching a glimpse of them on the landing earlier. Despite being a bit pale, their matching eyes shone with excitement.

Dean, satisfied that the twins weren't out to get them and hadn't been skewered in any way, snorted grumpily and went to pull his dagger out of the wall. The twins scrambled to their feet, already grinning.

"Truly sorry about that," the one on the left said. "We were just eager to welcome the mysterious hunters who have come into our midst. I'm Master Fred Weasley."

"And I'm Master George Weasley," the other said as both stuck their hands out for Dean to shake at the same time. Sam couldn't help but smirk at the weird little performance and Dean's blank stare. His big brother stayed frozen for a second, before taking the offered hands.

"Dean Winchester." Sam could tell that even though Dean was still a bit on-edge after that little jump scare, the odd twins and their strange humor were already starting to grow on him. "That's my brother Sam."

"Pleased to meet you, Sam Winchester," they said, treating Sam to the same handshake routine, their mischievous smiles contagious. Almost simultaneously, their heads turned toward the bedroom doorway. "And the rest of you can stop eavesdropping and come greet these fine gentlemen," Fred called out.

Sam palmed his dagger, keeping it concealed behind his back as several sets of footsteps shuffled down the hall toward their room. He saw Dean shifting backwards towards him.

The first person to edge around the doorframe was a pretty, blushing girl with bushy brown hair, shuffling awkwardly at being caught eavesdropping. For a minute she just stood there, gaze switching between Sam and Dean – Sam swore her blush got a little darker – before she mustered up words.

"I'm sorry about that. We weren't sure how best to come say hello. Fred and George didn't want to wait," she said. Her exasperation with the twins was all too obvious. Then she rolled her eyes again and turned to face someone still unseen in the hallway. "Oh come on, you lot! I highly doubt they're going to bite," she snapped.

Dean pulled another one of his smirks, and Sam could practically smell the witticism coming. "You never know," the older boy said. "We have a reputation for bein' pretty vicious."

Sam just let his eyes do their thing, catching the girl's faint grin as they finished their roundabout. She straightened herself up, shyness falling away as she stepped properly into the room. "I'm Hermione Granger, pleased to make your acquaintance."

As Dean shook her hand, and no doubt putting on the macho man act while he did it, Sam saw three more people enter the room. Two of them he guessed were Fred and George's siblings, since they both had red hair and similar facial features. The third guy was shorter, on the skinnier side with messy black hair and glasses.

The twins flanked the newcomers with a flourish. "Dean and Sam Winchester, these here are our lovely sister Ginny, our dear brother Ronnie, and his best mate and expert troublemaker, Harry Potter."

"So that's Harry Potter," Sam thought. For someone that had pissed off a dark lord and gotten the powers of Hell set on him, he looked pretty average. Then again, Sam knew better than anyone that looks could conceal surprising secrets. He felt a bit of sympathy for Harry, considering all the crap going on, and determined to treat him like everyone else. That's what Sam himself wanted a lot of the time.

The twins' younger brother grumbled. "It's Ron, you prats." He looked pretty uncomfortable, and he didn't try to come any closer to either Sam or Dean. Ginny, on the other hand, eagerly moved forward and shook their hands, a warm smile on her face. Sam tried to restrain a bit of a blush. She was very pretty.

"I'm sorry about my brothers. It doesn't seem to matter what Mum does; they're utterly impossible," Ginny said with a bashful smile aimed at Dean; Sam scowled a bit. "I'm not half surprised they almost got impaled."

Dean shrugged. "Still, sorry about that. Reflexes, you know?"

Neither Fred nor George seemed the least bit bothered. "Forgiven and forgotten," George assured him.

"But that means it's really true, doesn't it?" Ginny asked, a gleam in her eye. "You're hunters like your dad, not just his kids."

Sam could have sworn every one of the wizard kids' ears perked up, and he suddenly felt himself freeze up. Neither he nor Dean had ever had to tell anyone about what they did, since Dad was the one who always let people in on the secret when it was necessary. How much were they supposed to say? Did Dad want them to keep stuff under wraps, or try to gain trust with details? He decided to be vague, just to be safe. "Yeah, that's right," he said, hoping he didn't sound as stiff as he thought he did.

"But what does that really mean?" Hermione asked, looking every bit as eager as Ginny. "We heard the basics from Professor Dumbledore; you hunt dangerous creatures that most muggles don't know about, but is that it?"

"Not nearly," Sam thought.

"Pretty much," Dean said. Sam recognized the tone; Dean was unsure about this too, so he was keeping to the short answers.

"What kind of creatures?" Ron Weasley spoke up for the first time. He still kept a bit of distance alongside Harry, but he couldn't hide his curiosity.

Sam and Dean both shrugged, resolving silently to keep things basic. "Different stuff," Sam said. "Whatever's hurting people."

"Spirits, black dogs, werewolves, even weirder stuff," Dean listed off. Sam noticed Ron, Hermione, and Harry's eyes grow a bit wider, but he had no clue why. "Just have to look for weird deaths, figure out which monster it matches, then kill it."

"And what about demons?"

Sam was surprised to hear Harry speak. His voice was a bit deeper than he'd expected, and serious in a made-to-grow-up-too-quickly way that Sam recognized. Sam bit his lower lip. "Yeah, we've met demons."

Sharp inhales of breath were sucked in around the room. Harry stepped forward, expression grave and intense. "What are they, really? What are they like?"

Dean leaned up against the wall. "Nasty sons of bitches. Tricky, hard to catch, and evil to the core. Pack a mean punch, too," he said. The last time they'd faced a demon alongside Dad, Dean had gotten tossed right through the drywall via telekinesis.

"And how do you beat them?" Harry fidgeted with something that partially stuck out of his pocket; Sam guessed it was his wand.

"First you gotta corner 'em somehow," Dean said, "Which is a pain in the ass in its own right. Then you have to recite an exorcism to send them back to the furnace for a while."

"A while?" Hermione asked, looking worried. "So it's not permanent?"

Sam jumped in to reassure her; best not start a panic so soon. "It can last for a really long time. It seems to be extremely hard to crawl back out of Hell again; it can take decades," he explained.

"Can't you just kill them?" Ron asked. At this point, the other teens were all leaning in, transfixed between fascination and fear.

Dean shook his head. "You can't, as far as we know."

Harry snarled quietly, scrubbing his hand through his messy hair. "And now Voldemort's got who knows how many of them on his side. Dammit." The guy looked so scarily similar to Dad whenever he was neck-deep in an intense hunt that it kind of freaked Sam out a little, and the collective shudder from the others at the dark wizard's name didn't cheer him up any.

A grunt from Dean turned all attention to him. Sam's brother's lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. "I wouldn't be so worried about that. However this guy managed it, he isn't going to keep them under control forever. When the demons get it into their heads that they want loose, that's when I'd start to worry."

For once today, Sam knew just how to follow up. "That's why we're going to stop all this before that happens," he said, making sure all of his determination could be heard. He just hoped they'd believe it.

"That we will," said a deep voice, causing more than one of the room's occupants to jump. Sam and Dean straightened on instinct now that Dad was present. "But I think we'd better leave any more talk of the future until tomorrow."

That was all the hinting the wizard kids needed; muggle or not, they seemed to know that Dad wasn't someone to cross at a first meeting. With faint goodbyes and matching cheeky grins from the twins, the Weasleys, Hermione, and Harry slipped out of the room, their eyes fixed warily on the looming adult hunter until they made it down the hallway.

Dad watched them go, and then turned to them. "Better turn in now. I want you both up early."

"Yes, sir," Sam and Dean replied simultaneously.

"Good," Dad said, but he didn't yet depart for his own room. "Remember what I told you. Keep this business, don't get too close to anyone yet. Things are still up in the air right now," he said warningly.

"Yeah, Dad," Sam said, trying not to feel a bit disappointed. It was strange, but not unpleasant to talk to kids their age and not hide everything from them.

With an approving nod, Dad retreated from the doorway, shutting the door behind him. Dean made sure to lock it afterward, but in a house full of magic people it seemed more on principle than anything. Sam hoped that such precautions wouldn't be necessary tonight or in the days to come. Only time would tell for certain.

Neither Sam nor Dean went to sleep for a while after that. Sam couldn't stop turning the situation over in his mind, trying to figure out where things might go from here. These people didn't seem so bad, but they'd only just met them. There was no telling what might happen tomorrow, or the day after. Also, now that they were here, the fact that they would be facing down demons in unfamiliar surroundings sank in. Sam wasn't ashamed to admit that the thought sent chills down his spine. He burrowed down deeper under the covers. He was finally able to fall asleep when he resolved to leave it all until tomorrow. The last thing he saw before dropping off was the familiar sight of Dean leaning up against the headboard of his bed, his eyes never leaving the door.

A/N: Many apologies for this long delay. Suffice to say, life kicked in my door and dragged me off on adventures, including a vacation in New York City and my first Supernatural convention. Fun fact, Jensen Ackles is indeed as beautiful in person as he is on TV. It's like staring directly into the sun.

Many thanks to reviewers Wanderstar, Deathbistereo95, 0penfire, FrostyKoala, planetoffire, A-human-I-hope, ThePaleMongrel, musicalgryffindor,, loveofharrypotter, steph, Honey badger, Meow, Templeoftheking, ale2786, Pho3nix-Ash3s, IchigoMoonCutter, gaaralover1989, Basia Orci, brooke.h16, and all you guests. Also a big thank you to anyone who added this story to follow or favorite.