Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural.
December 2009.
"Crowley?" Hermione asked for the twelfth time in the past few days, as the three of them drove off to where Castiel managed to locate the Demon who allegedly held the Colt – the only gun that could kill any supernatural creature with just a single well-aimed bullet. "Are you absolutely sure she said Crowley?"
"That's what Becky said," Sam replied, as he did all the other times. "Bella sold Crowley the Colt as an attempt to get out of her deal."
"And you're certain it was Crowley?" Hermione insisted. "She couldn't have been mistaken, by chance?"
"I'm pretty sure Chuck would have corrected her if she had," Dean replied, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at Hermione. "Why are you so stuck up on this? Do you know him or something?"
At that, Hermione bit her lip. "Define 'know him'."
Sam and Dean shared a worried glance.
"Did you ever… meet him?" Sam asked.
"Once," Hermione replied shortly.
"Would you spill it out already?" Dean snapped. "Whatever it is, it's clearly important, and we've still got a long ride ahead of us, so we might as well use it to figure out how to solve… whatever needs solving."
Hermione bit her lip again. Like a Band-Aid, she told herself, taking a deep breath.
"I met Crowley before," she finally said. "Once, about a year and a half ago, maybe a bit more. I was at the crossroad just between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. A week before you contract was up," she added, looking at Dean. Both brothers straightened in their seats as she went on, "Crowley's the Demon I sold my soul to."
They never asked before, and she never said. Most of the time nowadays, it seemed like both Sam and Dean were determined to avoid the fact that Hermione sold her soul for Dean and went to Hell.
She understood where they came from. It was still a sore spot for all three of them, and even more so after everything that happened with Gabriel a couple of weeks earlier.
"Okay," Sam said in a strained voice. "That's… good that we know. It means we'll probably need someone else to act as distraction to get in. If he met you before, he'll to recognize you."
Hermione bit her tongue from saying she would have most likely been recognized even if it was a different Demon.
As it was, though, they called Jo for help. The young huntress only asked once why it was her, rather than Hermione, to play the part of a damsel in distress in order to get in.
When she received no reply, she let it go.
The ruse went as planned, and it wasn't long before the three of them were heading deeper into the mansion Crowley apparently lived in. Jo chose to stay at the car.
"I don't think I'll be of much use in this dress, anyway," she said, marking at the very tight, very short black dress she was wearing to distract the guards. "It doesn't really fit the category of comfort combat clothes."
Hermione, Dean and Sam prepared what they needed as insurances in case things went wrong – a Devil's Trap under a rug, a small bottle with holy water on each of their person – and went on to attract Crowley's attention in the best way they could think of.
A wave of Hermione's wand caused a shortage in the power supply to the house.
Lights out.
It didn't take long after that for Crowley to come out to the hallway, pausing at the sight of them.
"It's Crowley, right?" Sam asked, and Hermione could have sworn Crowley smiled at the words.
"So," he said. "The Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough."
He took another few steps towards them, making them all tense up. Compared to Dean and the gun he was holding and Sam with the Demon killing knife, Hermione felt more than a bit helpless with only her wand in her hand.
Any time in the past she needed to use magic on Demons, it turned out to be very underpowered at best and not effecting them at all at worst.
Suddenly, Crowley stopped, looking at the rug for a moment before turning it upside down to reveal a Devil's trap.
"Do you have any idea how much this rug cost?" he asked, sounding no more than a bit annoyed.
Before Hermione could think why he would be so nonchalant about this, someone grabbed her from behind, forcing her to drop her wand and pining her hands behind her back. She didn't need to look to her sides to know Dean and Sam were grabbed the same way.
"Hermione, dear," Crowley said, his voice as sweet as honey. "So glad to see you again. I must admit, you look a lot better than the last time we've met. What is it? Different skin-care routine?"
"Oh, fuck you," Hermione growled.
"Would you?" Crowley winked, smirking at his own joke as Dean fought harder against the Demon that was holding him.
The smirk fell from his lips as he pulled out a gun, holding it up for all of them to see. Although Hermione never saw the Colt before, only heard of it, she had no delusions that this was a regular gun.
"This is it, right?" Crowley asked. "This is what it's all about."
A small smile tugged at his lips as he aimed the gun towards Dean. There was a moment of complete silence, and everything seemed to stand still, until Crowley fired three shots in succession.
The Demons that held Hermione, Dean and Sam fell to the ground, dead.
"We need to talk," Crowley said. "Privately."
Hermione glanced at Sam and Dean before picking up her knife and placing it in her holster as the brothers did the same for their own weapons. Slowly, the three of them followed the Demon, Dean unconsciously moving to stand between him and Hermione as they walked into his study.
"What the hell is this?" Dean finally asked after a moment, once it was clear that Crowley wasn't going to say anything more.
"Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?" Crowley asked in reply, marking at the Colt before waving a hand to shut the door behind them. "There's no reason you or anyone should know this even exists, except that I told you."
"You told us?" Hermione repeated, confused.
"Rumors," Crowley replied, "innuendo, sent out on the grapevine."
"Why?" Sam asked. "Why tell us anything?"
Crowley raised the gun again, this time aiming it at Hermione and Dean made to move forward only to freeze at the Demon's next words.
I want you to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face."
"Okay," Dean said slowly, disbelief clear in his voice, "and why exactly would you want the Devil dead?"
"It's called… survival," Crowley explained as h put the gun down on the table. "Well, I forgot you two at best are functioning moron…" he added, marking between Dean and Sam.
"You're functioning… morons," Dean replied, only moving to further Crowley's point.
The Demon looked at Hermione in unhidden despair.
"And you're actually dating him?" he asked. Hermione shrugged, making him roll his eyes and move on. "Lucifer isn't a Demon, remember?" he asked. "He's an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you're just… filthy bags of pus. If that's the way he feels about you, what can he think about us?"
"But he created you," Sam said.
"To him, we're just servants," Crowley said. "Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind, we're next. So… help me, huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times, back to when we could all follow our natures. I'm in sales, dammit!" he said, smiling at Hermione once more in a way that made a shiver run down her spine. "So what do you say if I give you this thing," he raised the Colt, holding it towards the three of them handle first, "and you go kill the devil?"
Sam looked at Hermione and Dean with unhidden uncertainty. After a long moment where each of them weighed out the pros and cons of the situation, reaching to the same conclusion, Sam reached out and accepted the offered gun.
"Great," Sam said.
"Great," Crowley agreed.
"You wouldn't happen to know where the devil is, by chance, would you?"
"Thursday, birdies tell me, there's an appointment in Carthage, Missouri," Crowley replied.
Sam nodded, glancing at Dean and Hermione again before speaking. "Great," he said, pointing the gun straight into Crowley's face and pulling the trigger.
Click.
Empty. Honestly, they probably should have seen that coming.
Crowley didn't look the slightest bit fazed – obviously, he had seen that coming.
"Oh, yeah, right," he said with a small smile, standing up and going to his desk, "you'll probably need some more ammunition."
"Excuse me for asking," Dean started, "but aren't you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the devil and lose?"
"Number one, he's going to wipe us all out anyway," Crowley said nonchalantly. "Two, after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere. And three, how about you don't miss, okay!" he called out, making all three of them jump in surprise as he turned to Hermione once more. "And you are seriously dating this guy?"
He tossed a cartridge at Dean who caught it and immediately went to pass it on to Sam only to pause as he saw the Demon was no longer there, having disappeared into thin air.
"Great," Dean said. "And you sold your soul to this guy?"
"Well," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "he did make the very compelling argument of you not dying."
Dean rolled his eyes, moving to walk out only for Hermione to grab his arm and stop him. She waited until Sam was out of the room before speaking again.
"Would you stop it?" she asked.
"Stop what?" Dean asked.
"Whatever it is you're doing," Hermione replied. "You've been all but avoiding me since I told you guys Crowley was the one I sold my soul to."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are," Hermione countered. "You haven't said a word to me unless you were addressing Jo or Sam, as well. And from the moment we walked in here, you've been treating me like some… like some damsel in distress!"
"No, I wasn't," Dean insisted.
"Yes, you were. Dean," Hermione sighed as he avoided her eyes. "Will you at least look at me?"
Dean looked up, and Hermione could see raw pain in his eyes before he looked away again.
"I just… I hate it, you know?" he asked. "I hate that you sold your soul for mine. I hate how… unhealthy and destructive we used to be, not talking for months then nearly dying and killing for each other. I hate how I was after you died, how you were after you came back… we both worked so hard to be better than that, to work better than that."
"And we have," Hermione said. "We made it through. So stop doing things that take us ten steps backwards from where we are now, because we both went through a lot to get here."
"I just…" Dean sighed again. "I don't want you to die for me."
"Good," Hermione said. "I don't want you to die for me, either. And more than that, I don't want to die again. I have too much to live for."
Dean let out a small smile, leaning forward and giving Hermione a small kiss.
"Um… are you two done being disgustingly sweet?"
Both Dean and Hermione jumped at the sound of Sam's voice, turning to look at him. Hermione could feel heat rising to her cheeks and she didn't need to look at Dean to know he was probably much in the same situation.
"We – yeah," she said once she found her voice again. "Yeah."
"Good," Sam said, more than a bit amused. "Cause Jo's waiting at the car and we need to meet with Ellen and Cas at Bobby's and tell them what we found out."
"Right," Dean said, moving towards the door. "We should do that."
Hermione didn't think she imagined Sam raising his brows suggestively as she walked past.