Then…

It has been months since Sam's vague dream about writing on a wall written in blood and it grew absent from his mind after getting injured badly during a hunt. Now, nearly two months later, that might come back to bite him.

And Now…

The depth of fall brought with it rain. And with the rain came a chill that crept through the castle walls and deep into Dean's bones. Not even the cape wrapped tight around his shoulders could dispel the cold. The weather only adds to his general misery as he sniffles, pulling tissues from his pocket.

With a thoughtful hum, unsure if his plan will work, he charms his cloak to give off heat. Moments later he sighs in relief as his cape gives off heat like an electrical blanket. He keeps it wrapped tight around his shoulders.

Capes were something he'd missed while on the run. No-mag's were really missing out. Because what could be better than wearing a socially acceptable blanket?

In what had felt like the blink of an eye, Dean found himself at the end of his second month teaching.

Dean couldn't remember when he'd begun anticipating that something would happen. Something that would throw a well-aimed wrench into the life that he and Sam had built for themselves. With each time his alarm went off Dean thought, today's the day the other foot drops. Yet things remained well.

Granted, there was the Creevy boy. Dean could appreciate the boy's enthusiasm for the magical world, but the kid was constant nuisance with his camera. It hadn't been an issue until he'd taken a picture of Sam and Dean dueling by the lake. It had been difficult to explain to the kid why he had to not develop the picture without drawing suspicion.

Dean could only imagine what would happen if that photo was somehow made public.

Likely it would involve the front page of the news, magic cops from at least two countries, and matching arrest warrants for him and Sam. All things he would like to avoid.

But try explaining that to an eleven-year-old.

So Dean had settled for telling Colin that he and Sam didn't want their photos taken. Deleting the photo wasn't as simple as pressing a button. But with the student's permission, Sam spelled the film so only the photo he'd taken of Sam and Dean was removed. When developed, the image would be a black square.

Creevy then received a stern but fair lecture from Sam about camera courtesy. The boy promised Sam he would start asking permission before taking people's photos.

Dean almost felt bad for the kid. Almost. Watching Creevy look guilty as he stared at his shoes still felt a lot better than being in jail for probably the next century.

Colin seemed to take the lecture to heart. Dean still heard the dreaded camera shutter on occasion, but the camera was never pointed at him. He forced himself to leave the kid alone.

"Hey, Mr. Winchester!" Dean turns around and notices a Ravenclaw student running towards him. He recognizes him as Ty Cooper - the student who helped Sam when he'd fainted in class.

"Hey Mr. Cooper. How's it going?"

"It's great! This semester is really flying by. And now that the Quidditch season's started, I'm getting a lot more experience in the H-Wing setting bones and stuff which is super neat." Ty laughs to himself and scratches his neck. "Sorry, that's pretty morbid now that I think about it."

"Nah, at least one person should benefit from such a ridiculous sport."

Ty looks taken aback. "You don't like Quidditch? Sorry, but you seem like the sporty sort."

"I have nothing against sports. I just don't see how flying around on charmed cleaning equipment is safe or enjoyable."

Ty leans in whispering, "Don't let the Gryffindors hear you say that! They like their sportball."

Dean smirks and then turns abruptly to sneeze into his elbow several times.

"Oh right! I wanted to give you this!" Ty holds out a potion bottle. "It's a pepper-up potion from Madam Pomfrey. She noticed you were starting to come down with a cold. She said, and I quote, 'Those Winchester boys are masochists and won't come to the Hospital Wing unless they're bleeding out of their ears.'"

"So she sent you to try to get me to take it?"

Ty nods. "She also said that you owe her a favour for healing Sam."

"What about the Hippocratic oath? I shouldn't owe her anything for doing her job."

"Well, what about a favour to me? I haven't taken that oath yet." Ty smirks.

Dean frowns at the boy. "Have you considered being a lawyer?"

"I think my persuasive skills are better used in a hospital. You would be surprised at how many patients are just as stubborn as you." Ty blanches as he realizes he's speaking to a professor. "I mean no disrespect, sir."

"None taken. Well, give me the dang potion then."

With reluctance, Dean takes the potion from Ty. As soon as he gulps it down, his sinuses clear with an almost painful stinging sensation. He shakes his head as he hands back the empty bottle.

"I'll be more grateful when my nose stops burning, but thanks."

"No problem. I'll see you around Mr. Winchester." Ty walks off.

Dean rubs his irritated nose and continues walking towards his classroom.

-.-.-

Halloween wasn't the Winchester's favourite holiday, but Sam felt they should be forgiven for that. Some of the fun was taken out of it when they had once exorcised Samhain itself from some idiot who had summoned it. Not to mention people dressing as campy versions of very real monsters.

Sam wasn't sure what to expect from Hogwarts for the holiday. Ilvermorny students had always dressed up in costumes for the day, but he felt that Hogwarts was a little more formal than his old school. Glow-in-the-dark fangs would probably be inappropriate.

But classes went on as normal. Many students had chosen to wear their pointed hats which were usually only worn at formal school events. And he'd had to clean up candy wrappers left on the desks after his classes. But otherwise, it was one of the tamest Halloweens he'd ever had.

As the day draws to a close, Sam glances up from his Halloween feast to take in the Great Hall. His eyebrows fall in confusion. "Am I going crazy," he asks aloud, "or does it seem like there's more ghosts in the castle today? I mean, it's Halloween, but I haven't even seen half of these spirits around."

McGonagall answers. "Many spirits in the area tend to converge around Hogwarts this time of year. Its strong magical presence draws them. Not to mention one of our resident ghosts is celebrating the anniversary of his death."

Sam looks at her, confused. "British ghosts are strange."

McGonagall raises an eyebrow. "In what way?"

"American ghosts are predictable. They have certain areas, objects, or people that they're fixated on and they follow patterns. The ghosts here are more, well," Sam struggles to find a word. "Normal."

Sam's hunter resolve hasn't wavered. There were some ghosts which were evil and needed to be taken down. But it was strangely comforting to know that not all the supernatural was terrible and malicious.

Sam is strangely disappointed when the rumour floating around that Dumbledore had hired dancing skeletons for dinner entertainment proves to be false. In fact, the most festive that the dinner had gotten were some jack-o-lanterns and bats flying around the Great Hall. He shouldn't have expected much, but he still feels a bit disappointed as he takes a bite out of a candy apple.

It is almost a pleasant surprise when the jack-o-lanterns explode in a shower of fireworks.

Student groan and shriek as they bits of pumpkin and candle wax cover them. Sam recognizes the hands of pranksters when he sees them. He had gone to school with Gabriel Novak. So he chuckles, even as he ducks under a firework shooting towards him.

McGonogall does not seem to find it amusing. She stands up and makes a bee-line towards two red-headed Gryffindor students. Their laughter turns to sheepish grins as their Head of House glares at them.

Sam doesn't need to hear her to know that the boys are being given their fair share of detentions. Sam feels a wave of nostalgia.

He remembers the times he'd gotten caught helping Gabe with a particularly complex prank. If Gabe were here he probably would have put goo in each of the lanterns to add to the impact of the explosion.

Amid the chaos, Dumbledore simply stands and cleans up the mess with a wave of his wand. The fireworks continue to go off. Sam notices that the multi-coloured sparks have changed to more festive colours of yellow, orange, and black.

As the fireworks clear, Dumbledore speaks. "It seems that some individuals wished for there to be more pumpkin themed desserts. I fear we must settle for pumpkin pastilles and pie, but we can take requests for desserts served next year. There is no need to take matters into your own hands."

Laughter erupts throughout the hall and Dumbledore sits down with a pleased smile on his face.

-.-.-

Sam and Dean leave the Great Hall in the wave of students and professors.

"I feel like I'm going to puke," Dean mumbles.

"No one forced you to try every single dessert." Sam teases, but he feels just as bloated. He almost feels like throwing the candies he'd stuffed in his pocket into the trash. Almost.

"I'm going to eat a whole ginger root when we get back to our rooms. Or ginger snaps. Whichever I feel like."

Sam rolls his eyes at Dean and almost trips over the student in front of them as the entire group skids to a halt.

From their height advantage, both Dean and Sam notice the gap left in the hallway surrounding Ms. Granger and her two friends. Water surrounds them on the floor and everyone seems to be staring at the wall. Sam feels a cold rush of dread as he and Dean push their way through the crowd.

Sam staggers in his step.

He remembers seeing this exact scene. He'd dreamed about it at the beginning of the year.

Draco Malfoy takes it upon himself to read the words written on the wall in what appears to be blood.

"'Enemies of the Heir, beware!' You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

"That's enough, Mr. Malfoy," Dean bites out, keeping his temper in check at the derogatory term.

Sam shakes off the feeling of deja-vu and walks forward to look at the shape hanging on a lamp under the writing.

It is the ugly grey cat that he's seen prowling around the castle. He feels that it is stiff as a board. He almost thinks that it's rigor mortis, but the cat's face is stuck in a fierce hiss and its back is arched. Strange.

His thoughts are interrupted by a voice shouting from the crowd.

"What's going on here? What's going on?" The balding man that Sam recognizes as the caretaker for the school stalks forward. He recoils when his eyes catch sight of the cat that Sam has been examining.

"My cat! What have you done!? His eyes whip towards Harry Potter and he begins to screech, "You've murdered my cat! I'll kill you!" Sam moves to put himself between the enraged man and the students. His wand slips from his holster and into his hand.

"Argus!"

Sam is almost frightened by hearing Dumbledore's voice raised for the first time since he's known the man. Dumbledore strides through the students and picks the cat from the wall.

"If you all would follow me, please." His eyes travel from Argus to the three students. "You as well, Sam, Dean. You should be present."

"You can use our office Albus. We don't use it, but it's closest." Dean's voice is level. The hard voice of a hunter has replaced the laid back person who had begun to take shape in Dean. Sam feels a pang of regret as he looks into his brother's cold eyes.

They are followed by McGonagall and Snape as they make their way upstairs to the Winchester's office. No one says a word.

Although he's never actually used the office, Sam still feels self-conscious as the small group enters the room. It is painfully bare and Sam can't help but feel antsy, as if he should be offering tea or coffee to everyone. He settles for transfiguring the unused bookshelves into chairs. Three for the students, and a fourth for Argus who seems like his shaking legs will give out at any moment. He thinks he sees Professor McGonagall eyeing his work with appreciation.

Dean waves his wand to light the candles on the walls, casting the room into an eerie, flickering light. As an afterthought he also casts a spell to clean the dust from all the surfaces. It was a sizeable amount due to the room's disuse. Dean seems to hesitate for a moment before joining Sam, leaning against the wall with crossed arms.

By an unspoken agreement, they decide to let Dumbledore and McGonagall finish their examination first. They were the heads of the school. Plus there was hardly enough room for four people to crowd around the desk staring at one cat.

They wait in silence.

-.-.-

The silence of the room is only punctuated by Dumbledore whispering spells and observations. And the stifled sobs of Mr. Filch. Harry wrings his hands in nervous anticipation at what is to come. His eyes dart from Professor Snape who stands in the shadows, to Hermione and Ron who also seem shocked at the events. He looks up at Dean and Sam who are leaning against one of the walls looking grim with their arms crossed.

Harry recalls similar posture from the security guards he's seen in muggle malls.

It is strange to see the usually amicable professors so stern. But at the same time, they wear their frowns like a well fitted suit.

After what feels like ages, Dumbledore straightens and addresses the room.

"She's not dead. Merely petrified."

Harry thinks he hears Dean whisper to Sam, "Oh good. Just petrified. What a great turn of events." Sarcasm is dripping from his voice.

Dumbledore looks towards Sam and Dean. "Does this look like anything you two may have encountered before?"

What does Dumbledore mean by that? Harry wonders.

Sam clears his throat first. "There are some spells that could produce similar results, but those are really Dark Magic. Most of which is either illegal or buried so deep in scholarly texts that I doubt anyone would have encountered them. Students or otherwise."

"Some creatures use petrification too, like Gorgons," Dean adds. "There's also a laundry list of accounts in Greek mythology referencing things being turned to stone by gods or creatures. But whether the old accounts meant physical stone or stone-like, it's not known for sure. For all their reputation as scholars, the Greeks tended to exaggerate." Almost everyone in the room turns to Dean in surprise. The man just frowns and raises one hand in challenge, as if to say, What? I read too.

Argus is practically spitting in anger. "We're not looking for what didn't attack my cat, we're looking for what did!"

Dean straightens up from the wall. "Listen pal, we're just trying to help!"

Dumbledore raises a hand. "Dean, please forgive Argus. He is very distraught at the moment, as you can see."

Dean takes one look at the bleary eyed man and then settles back on the wall in a huff. "Honestly, Albus. It could have been anything that attacked his cat. A lot of creatures are more powerful this time of year. And it's a full moon tonight to boot."

"It was him!" Harry's heart leaps as Filch points a gnarled finger at him. "I know it!"

"Did you not listen to a thing I said?" Sam asks. "This is Dark Magic. Darker than anything you or I could do."

Relief washes through Harry when the man's rage turns to Sam. "How dare you! How dare you rub that in my face!"

Dumbledore walks over to Filch and places a hand on his shoulder. "Argus, he does not know."

"But Potter does! That's why he attacked my cat and wrote that stuff on the wall! He knows I'm a Squib!"

"For the last time, I didn't attack Mrs. Norris!" Harry raises his voice and then slouches back in his chair. "And I don't even know what a Squib is."

As Filch begins accusing Harry again, Snape unlikely comes to his aid.

"Perhaps this is all an unfortunate coincidence. But as to why Mr. Potter and his friend were not at the feast, is a little…odd."

All three Gryffindors launch into an explanation of where they had spent their evening – at Nearly Headless Nick's party – and how they had been on their way to bed when they'd encountered the message on the wall.

It isn't long after that they are dismissed from the office. They are grateful to leave behind the professors speaking in hushed voices.

Ron is one of the first to speak up when they leave the room. "Do either of you think it was odd that Dumbledore asked for the Winchester's opinions on what attacked Mrs. Norris? I mean, isn't Dumbledore an expert on pretty much everything?"

"It's not too farfetched." Hermione muses as she plays with a lock of her curly hair which Harry recognizes as a nervous tick. "I met with them in their office hour over a month ago. Professor Dean said he and Professor Sam helped people who encountered dangerous parts of the magical world. I would guess that that also includes magical creatures. Though Professor Dean's theory on the Greek myths was quite interesting."

Ron looks at Harry with wide eyes. "Oh no, I think Hermione's realized that both of the professors are smart. Now she fancies Dean too!"

Hermione punches Ron in the arm causing his laughter to break off abruptly. Harry's own laughter is forced, his mind distracted from the voice he'd heard.

-.-.-

It isn't long after the students leave that Sam and Dean are finally dismissed. McGonagall promises to return to office to its original state before they leave.

Sam fiddles with the sweets in his pocket nervously.

"What's eating you, Sam?" Dean asks, reading Sam's body language like a book.

Sam pauses as he tries to find words. He fiddles with the candy some more. Dean needs to know. But Sam wants nothing more than to sink through the floor.

Sam sighs before finally speaking. "Remember how I'd sometimes have deja-vu as a kid?" Dean nods slowly. "I kinda started to have it again. I remember seeing this. The words written in blood and I think petrified people in the Hospital Wing. But I didn't know they were petrified at the time. I dreamed about it our first week here. But then the glastig happened and …."

Sam notices that Dean has stopped walking a few paces ago. Sam stops as well. He looks up nervously into his brother's eyes. Dean looks at him with his eyebrows down and a frown chiseled into the hard lines of his face.

What comes out of Dean is a natural reaction. When all words fail him, and the utter weight of the situation becomes overbearing, Sam has only heard one thing come out of his brother's mouth.

"Son-uva-bitch!"

-.-.-

AN: Lots of time skips, lots of fun. We're finally into the Harry Potter timeline, so anything that seems familiar is either reworded or taken right from the books.

Here's just some fun facts and my head cannons. It actually bothers me when writers make Dean a Quidditch player because he has such a fear of flying. So here we are in this story where Dean actually hates even the idea of playing Quidditch.

Also, I'd originally written the second chapter to Tales of the Magical Winchesters where Dean, Castiel, Gabriel, and Sam were all pranksters at Ilvermorny, but it just didn't fit in with the rest of my ideas for the characters and story. But I do think that Gabriel dragged each of his friends into his pranks at some point, using their strengths to make the jokes happen. Hopefully I'll get around to writing a chapter in that fic about some of their fun times at Ilvermorny.

Anyways, thanks as always for reading! Leave some faves or a review to get my creative inspiration happening.