"Uhh, Dr. Granger?"

She ripped the headphones from her ears and flushed, as she'd been singing to her music in her office, her secretary and an obvious new client standing in the doorway, the secretary looking amused as the man gave a small smirk. He was tall, with broad shoulders, and an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Kathy," she cleared her throat and smoothed her hair back, "Uhh…thank you."

"I tried knocking," Kathy stated. "You didn't hear me."

"Kathy," she looked at her pointedly and the secretary nodded and moved back to her desk. "I'm terribly sorry about that."

"It's quite alright," the man stated, moving towards her with his hand outstretched, "You have a beautiful voice."

She flushed at the praise and shook his hand, "I'm Doctor Granger, but please call me Hermione."

"I am Mister…Hyde," he smiled, moving to a seat in front of her desk as she set aside her music player and sat down in her seat.

"What can I help you with, Mister Hyde?" she questioned.

"Well, Hermione, I have a few questions," he began, "Do you believe that there are certain incidents that can…alter the atmosphere in a room? In a house?"

"Psychologically speaking?"

"Just casually speaking," he said.

"I believe that there are some things that become absorbed in the structure of a house, some things that can't be erased," she decided, remembering the stories that Sam and Dean had told her. She would surely miss those two, having watched them pack up and drive off, off to whatever hunt awaited them. She still had Sam's e-mail address, of course, and could use the landline in her office if she needed to, but it wouldn't quite be the same.

"There is a house just outside of town that I would request you to investigate," he said before he began to backtrack, "I'm doing research, and I believe that you are one of a select group of people who are so in tuned to the supernatural."

"Well, I'm not busy," she said, feeling her wand in her back pocket of her slacks before nodding and grabbing her blazer, "Alright, we'll head out there. Mind if I ride with you?"

He smirked and stood, towering over her, "Of course not."

"I can drive," Dean insisted again, stopped at a gas station, a few minutes away from the motel room they had just cleaned and checked out of.

Sam shook his head, standing outside of the Impala, "Hermione said no strenuous activity."

"I think she said that to keep me from flirting anymore," Dean snorted, taking out his phone and dully flipping through his text messages, "Which did not work." He paused at a number he didn't recognize, his last outgoing message being a "yes ma'am." He thought for a moment, going through a mental list of who this number could've belonged to, before going through the messages he'd sent to this number. Panic swelled in his chest – had he been possessed for those few months? Had someone been walking around, masquerading as him, without anyone noticing? Sam had lapses in memory too, not as much as Dean, had he been possessed as well?

He pressed a button and held the phone to his ear, unaware that a lone cell phone was locked away in a house that hadn't been lived in for months, ringing relentlessly for its former occupants. There was a beep before his eyes widened at the familiar voice.

"'Lo, this is Hermione, I'm probably trying to keep the Winchesters from killing themselves, if it's that important, you know how to get ahold of me, if not just leave a voicemail and I'll get back to you!"

He had met Hermione a few weeks ago. He had not been texting her four months prior, they had never met, he had never seen her with a cell phone.

"Sam, get in the car, we need to check on Hermione," Dean ordered as he got out of the car and moved to the driver's seat.

"What, why?" Sam asked as he pulled the nozzle out of the tank and moved to the passenger seat. As a response, Dean handed him his phone as he drove out of the parking lot.