Dean sees Sam's furrowed brows as he approaches the teacher's table in the Great Hall and he can tell that something is bothering his brother. He sits down beside Sam and knocks his shoulder with his fist.
"What's up, little bro? Bad class?" When he say them last, it had seemed like the 7th year class had warmed up to his brother after Sam had verbally knocked one kid down a few notches.
"No, the class was great, actually and I was able to visit the library afterwards" Sam tells Dean about some of the things he picked up on British monsters and differences in dark magic that might make for good additions in their lessons.
"But that's not what's eating you," Dean says.
"There was something else though that came up in class." Sam mutters his next sentence to himself.
Dean raises an eyebrow. "What was that?" Sam looks like he has just swallowed some particularly strong alcohol. He eventually finds his tongue.
"I said that some of the girls in my class think that I'm hot."
Dean throws his head back in laughter. "Seriously? That's what's eating you? You get that all the time from girls in bars back home, so what's the problem?"
"They're just kids!"
"Kids who should know that they don't have a vampire's chance in sunlight to actually get together with you. It's just something that women do." Dean makes a gesture as if to visually represent the mysteries of females. "They talk about celebrities or other people they find attractive, they giggle to each other, and they move on with their lives." Dean begins loading his plate with food. Sam remains quiet. "Come on Sam, you know I'm right. Say it so you can stop moping."
"I'm not moping!" Dean rolls his eyes at Sam. "Okay, I might have been. A little bit." Dean says nothing. "Fine. You're right." Sam finally admits and then turns back to his own plate of food to avoid looking at Dean's know-it-all smirk. They eat in silence for a while before Dean remembers something.
"I wrote some letters for Bobby and Ellen the other day, but I think we'll need to find a post office to mail them by bird. I'm pretty sure that the school owls won't do international trips."
"You could just snail-mail them," Sam suggests.
"But that would take longer than an owl. Ellen has probably reached the peak of her anger with us already, but I know Bobby won't be happy if we don't let him know how we're doing soon.
The portly woman sitting beside Sam turns around to face them. "Did you boys say you wanted to know where you could find the nearest post office?" The Winchesters nod. "Well, that would be in Hogsmeade. It's the village just a stone's throw from Hogwarts. You just need to go through the main gate and follow the path down the hill and you're there."
"I think professor McGonagall mentioned that we're supposed to stay at Hogwarts during the week," Sam says. "We could head there on Saturday," he suggests to Dean, but the woman leans in conspiratorially and lowers her voice.
"Teachers technically aren't supposed to leave the grounds during school hours, but as long as you don't have office hours or any other duties it's not usually an issue," the woman says and then returns to a normal speaking volume. "I am Pomona Sprout, by the way. But blast, I have forgotten your names! I was distracted at the feast because I was thinking about all the work that needs to be done in the Greenhouses. They always get a little out of hand over the summer because there are no students to help care for them."
"It's no problem, really. I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. Thanks for the help."
"You're very welcome. You boys are from America, right?"
"Yeah. Proud students of Ilvermorny," Dean says. "But don't make us sing the school's song."
Sprout laughs. "I feel the same way about Hogwarts' song. It's funny the first few times, but I have been teaching at this school for many years now and I, along with most of the staff, have to restrain myself from leaving the hall as soon as the first notes start. What were you boys up to before Professor Dumbledore asked you to teach? You're not exactly fresh out of school."
"We were doing some freelance work," Dean lies easily. "Just helping out some people here and there with problems. Sometimes no-mags get way over their heads in magic without even realizing it and so my brother and I keep an eye out for those problems and help out where we can. Our dad did the same thing so it's a family business of sorts." Dean thanks his lucky stars that he and Sam's usual cover story was easily converted just by adding magic as a descriptor word instead of monsters. He will need to hash out the finer details of their cover story with Sam later.
"So do you work for MACUSA then?" Sprout asks. Sam almost spits out his drink and he begins coughing. Dean can hear the laughter underneath and he smirks as the thought of how Hendrickson would react if he found Sam and Dean's resumes in his stack of potential auror applicants.
Dean hits his brother's back to help him find air. "As I said, we freelance. We don't work for them."
"Oh. I was just wondering because that sounds like some of the work that the Ministry of Magic does to protect muggles from magic they accidentally run into." Sprout checks her watch and then stands up. "It was nice chatting with you two, but I need to set up the Greenhouses for my next class. I will hopefully see you both later."
Sam and Dean bid her farewell and then turn to each other.
"What's our story?" They whisper in unison. Their eyebrows crease. "Later."
-.-.-.-
By an unspoken agreement, Sam and Dean head outside the castle once they are done eating and make their way to Hogsmeade.
As Professor Sprout had promised, the village really wasn't that far from the castle. It was quaint and there were only a few people wandering around the streets. Dean felt like he had been thrown back into Medieval times, like this part of the world was just a fief to the castle of Hogwarts. It isn't hard to find the post office because the village is not that large to begin with.
Sam follows Dean into the store. He looks around while Dean speaks to the shop keeper, showing him the letters which were surprisingly dry from the water attack by Peeves.
Sam can only recognize a few of the owls that are perched in the shop. The snowy owls were quite obvious, as were the barn owls, but there were also large grey ones with horns, little brown ones with bright yellow eyes. Most of the owls ignored the new occupants in the shop and rested in their nests along the walls, but some were watching him with their wide eyes. Sam found it a little disconcerting.
Some of the owls were even bigger than Bobby's ravens. Sam doesn't know how inconspicuous owls would be in Britain, especially if letters were being delivered during the day. He thinks that for all the complaints that he's heard from British magical-folk about Americans, they've gotten some things right over the years.
Sam makes his way to the counter where he sees a newspaper. He picks one up and flips through it.
"Are you going to buy that, or just read it and leave it there?" The shopkeeper snaps, breaking off his conversation with Dean which Sam notices now had been growing steadily louder.
"Uh...I can buy it."
"Yeah, just add it to my tab which is already too freaking large." Dean bites back at the shopkeeper.
"This isn't a bargaining system, boy. We have standard rates for mailing letters internationally. You want two birds to fly over the Atlantic and back and you don't want to pay full price for it? I have half a mind to throw you out of my shop!"
"I will throw those over-grown chickens into a fireplace and floo them to America with these letters, but I'm not paying ten freaking galleons to do it!"
"Sioux Falls is only about a five hour drive from the Roadhouse." Sam reasons. "Why not just send one bird with both letters? How much would that be?" The shopkeeper glares at Sam. and looks a little miffed that he won't be getting as much profit as he had hoped.
"That would actually be cheaper. It would only be six galleons and four sickles."
"Well why didn't you tell me that in the first place?!" Dean slams his hands on the desk, causing some owls to hoot angrily.
"For all I knew, you were sending those letters to opposite sides of America!" Sam thinks that the shopkeeper must have more of an idea of American geography than he is letting on.
Sam quickly pulls out his wallet and puts the galleons and sickles on the counter. "And how much for the paper?"
"One knut. But if you would like a subscription, I could set that up for you as well. It would be one knut a day that you would put into the the pouch of the delivery owl."
"Okay, that would be great."
Sam makes it out of the shop before Dean can start throwing punches.
"That old man is a swindler. Bobby and Ellen better appreciate those damn letters." Dean says as the shop door slams shut.
"If it makes you feel better, you paid six galleons for the letters, but it would have costed a lot more to pay the medical bills after Ellen ripped you limb from limb the next time we see her."
"It might still happen. I wouldn't be surprised if we got ourselves a Howler in the coming weeks. If not from Ellen, then from Jo." Dean tries to rub the tension from his face. "I could really use a drink."
As it turns out, they are in luck because there is a dingy bar in the village labelled as the 'Hog's Head.'
The brothers can tell that the establishment is used to regular clients as their eyes adjusted to the dimly lit pub. Sunlight didn't even penetrate through the grimy windows. Sam could tell that he and Dean stood out awkwardly in their new teaching clothing.
But the barkeeper barely looks up from the glass he is cleaning when they enter. "Jus' sit wherever. I will get to ya in a mo'." Dean and Sam choose a table by the wall where Dean can watch the front door and Sam can keep an eye the rear exit. Whether it is a conscious decision or instinct, they can't even tell anymore.
Sam pulls out the newspaper that he had bought at the post office and continues to look through it.
There is a whole lot of information that he doesn't understand, having only been in Britain for a few weeks. But there is a small article speaking to the fallout of a flying car being sighted by muggles on Sunday which he remembers was caused by two students. The government was still performing memory charms on no-mags. Sam turns the page to see a small article that's headline caught his eyes. It doesn't even have a picture associated with it, though an inky mouse is sitting on most of the article. Sam shoos it away with his finger and it scampers away to nap on a different article.
"Hey Dean. Read this."
Dean takes the paper from Sam and reads the article, his brow creasing. He looks up at Sam. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. It sounds like our kind of thing."
"Except that our kind of thing is in America where there are fifty different states that we can hide in if we need to disappear after a hunt."
"But people are getting hurt! We should do something."
Dean is saved from having to answer right away by the barkeeper. "Name's Aberforth. What can I git for ya?"
Sam orders a coffee while Dean gets one of the beers that are on tap. Aberforth waves his wand and the two drinks make themselves and fly over to their table. "Anythin else?" Dean and Sam shake their heads and go back to the article when Aberforth leaves.
Dean contemplates the article that Sam's found. "I'm not saying that we will go for it, but if we do, it will need to wait until Saturday. We could probably disappear for a while that day without anyone noticing. Where is the case again?"
Sam checks the article. "Galloway."
"Where is that?"
Sam shrugs, making a face.
"Well then Google it." Dean says. Sam just levels his stare at Dean. "Damn it! What I wouldn't give for an internet cafe." Dean takes an angry drink from his glass.
"The library at Hogwarts is pretty great. We might be able to find something on Scottish folklore which could point us to why those people ended up dead in ponds."
"I would say vampire because of the drained blood, but that doesn't fit their m.o." Dean looks at Sam and sighs, defeated. Alright. If we can figure out what is the cause of this before Saturday, we can apparate to Galloway," Sam moans in anticipation of the future discomfort, "and then get back before anyone knows we're gone."
"Okay," Sam agrees, "but you've got to help me with research."
"Fine." Dean says, it like he will do it begrudgingly, but Sam has heard the same tone used many times. Usually when Dean's pretending to be the more mature and restrained one of the two. Dean wouldn't turn down the opportunity to prevent more people from dying.
Dean finishes his beer and then flags down the barkeeper, asking for two more glasses of beer. He slides one of them to Sam when they land on the table.
"Give it a try. This stuff is pretty good."
Sam does and makes an appreciative noise. The rest of their time in the bar is spent making small talk with each other, discussing anything but their new case. Sam figures there will be plenty of time for that later. And chances were, the monster was something they'd never encountered before so there was no sense wasting brain power on it now.
-.-.-.-
AN: So, I was thinking that I wouldn't get an update in this week because I was supposed to start my new job today, but the heavens had opened up last week and it was pissing rain for three days in a row. And my job's outside one that you can't do it when the ground is covered in water :P So, I have another week off before I start and regular updates might become a thing of the past.
Actually relevant to the story, I headcannon that American magic people refer to wizards as warlocks. That's why I have Sam and Dean say Warlock instead of wizard in conversations. Same sort of reason why I don't say muggles, but rather, no-mags (even though it's a stupid-ass name and Rowling could have done better. Yeah, I know that it's spelled No-Maj, but that is even dumber. Where did the 'j' come from. I have so many questions.)
Bless all of your faces for being so kind in the reviews you leave. I honestly become a smiling mess every time I read one. Keep being awesome! Also, when did there get to be over 300 of you following this story?! Where did you come from?! Thanks so much :D (Ps. sorry for the many spelling mistakes which are probably everywhere. I just didn't feel like editing it again.)
