Love, Fate and Prophecy
Part Two: Chapter Six – Fate, Tempted
July, 1995
"So first, you clean the barrel," Dean said with a rifle and his younger brothers behind him. "Remember, you don't want to damage the first or last inch. If they are damaged at all, you won't be able to shoot straight." He started demonstrating. Sam groaned.
"I know all of this Dean – I'm bored."
"Do you, what's the next step then Sam?" Dean asked, annoyed to have his lesson interrupted. Sam never would have interrupted their father. Or, maybe he would try, but Dean wouldn't have allowed it.
"You need to clean the bore – in the direction that the bullet travels." He intoned.
"Well, yeah, but Harry doesn't know…"
"Harry is probably best off not touching a gun," Harry said in the third-person. "Magic?" Then he remembered what his father asked of him and sighed internally. "But this doesn't seem electronic, so there shouldn't be too much interference. Since you know how to do it so well, why don't you teach me, Sam?" He suggested, sliding a glance at Dean, who looked surprised but approved.
Sam beamed. He had never gotten to be the one doing the instructions. And he really did know it all, their father and Dean had drilled it into him. He brushed Dean aside and took over instruction. For his part, Harry did his best to look interested and ask questions, which pleased the eldest Winchester. Not having to try and keep Sammy interested in whatever lesson their father had decided needed to be taught that day took a burden off of Dean. Maybe having a brother in between would be helpful.
Harry made lunch for the three of them. (Bobby was tinkering in his shop – close enough to hear if someone yelled, but hands-off enough to leave the boys to their day.)
"This is really good," Sam said while digging into the cottage pie that Harry had made. The ingredients from the night before had been unsalvageable, but earlier in the day Bobby had made a run to the store, he said for beer but came back with everything Harry had tried to purchase the night before.
Harry blushed a little at the compliment. He was used to making the food and only getting complaints (and none of the food).
"Ah, good, I'm glad you like it Sam."
"It's way better than Dean's cooking – all he can manage is a can of Spaghetti-Ohs most of the time."
Dean stiffened a little, although he could hardly argue.
"That's not very fair Sam, my aunt started me cooking at a very early age – so I've been cooking for ages. I'm sure with some practice, Dean could be just as good. And this is nothing compared to what the food at school – some of the best meals I've ever had has been at the start-of-the-term feast."
"You have feasts?" Sam asked, wide-eyed.
"Yeah – not all the time mind you, just at the beginning of the semester and on holidays."
"You know Sam, we have some free time this afternoon, I bet if you asked real nice, Harry would tell you all about what it's like to go to magic school in a castle," Dean said slyly.
Sam looked hopeful. "Would you?" He asked.
"Sure, what would you like to know?"
"Everything! What's it like, going to boarding school? Do you miss your family while you're away?"
Dean winced internally, not the easiest question to start with. He pretended to be disinterested by flipping through a magazine – prepared to take copious mental notes.
"Er, no, I don't miss them. But that's because my true family is at Hogwarts with me! My best mate, Ron is brilliant. He has five older brothers and a little sister. His oldest brother, Bill is a curse breaker in Egypt. He goes around old tombs reversing ancient curses for work."
Sam's eyes were big. "That sounds an awful lot like what a hunter does. He gets paid to do it?"
"Yeah, of course. He works for the wizarding bank, Gringotts, that's run by goblins."
Stories of the wizarding world continued for a better part of the afternoon, thoroughly entertaining Sam and getting his mind off of their absent father. (When normally he would have bothered Dean about any check ins five or six times already.) It also provided Dean with a lot of intel. Maybe not all of it was important, but there could be something useful. He noticed that most of the stories Harry told were devoid of anything too frightening and wondered if he was straying from some of the more dangerous things that he had been through. (Although he could hardly imagine what it might be like to purposefully attend a party full of ghosts.) He was thinking of going to get the magazine his father had shown him the night before when the doorbell rang. With his Uncle Bobby still being in the back, Dean went to open the door. Slowly, just in case it was something dangerous.
It was a police officer. 'Uh oh,' Dean thought. 'Has someone called child services again?' he wondered. With all the moving and living in motel rooms, not to mention bruises from hunting, it was unsurprising that child services had been called a couple of times on his father. Ms. Collins was their social worker and she did checkups every couple of years. But this was a different woman altogether.
"Can I help you, Officer?" Dean asked respectfully, with a charming smile he reserved for pretty girls. This officer was quite young – couldn't be more than a couple of years older than himself.
"Yes, is John Winchester home?"
"I'm afraid not, he's on a business trip."
The woman's eyes narrowed.
"Then who is looking after you?"
"Uncle Bobby, of course. Dad travels a lot for business, so during the summer he watches us."
"Ah, I see. May I speak with your brother please?"
That confused Dean, but he didn't see a problem with it. "Hey Sam, come on out here, a pretty police officer is asking for you." He winked at her. She was not impressed.
Sam came bounding into the room. "Is it Ms. Collins again? We haven't heard from her in a bit. Oh, no it's not." He said, upon seeing the woman.
"How can I help you, ma'am?"
"Your family sure does have a lot of boys. I meant your other brother, Henry. Henry is your brother, right?"
Dean hesitated for a millisecond before smiling again and saying, "Of course he is. Harry!" He called. He was a little worried about this – they hadn't briefed the newest Winchester on how to deal with social workers or police officers doing child welfare checks yet.
Harry recognized the woman immediately. "Officer Mills, it's nice to see you again." He said formally, and with his regular accent.
She frowned a little. "Weren't you American yesterday?"
He laughed nervously. "I'm American every day actually, I just go to boarding school in the UK for most of the year. I got sick of hearing about how 'cute' my accident is so I was trying to sound more American," he made up on the spot.
Jody looked at him like he was strange, but decided to let that drop. "I wanted to check and make sure you were doing alright after yesterday's attack. Did you get medical help?"
"I did. What was it, Dean, 12 stitches?"
Dean was impressed by Harry's lie of omission, but also slightly concerned at how easily he lied to people in places of authority. "I think you're misremembering; it was more like 25."
"Ouch," Officer Mills said.
"Yeah, it was my first time getting stitches. I'm feeling loads better today though."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it. Could you please point me in the direction of Mr. Singer? I would like to ask him a couple of questions."
There was an inaudible sigh of relief between the three brothers.
"Of course, Officer, he's just out in the garage tinkering with a car. I'm sure he'd be happy to speak with you," Dean said with a smile.
"Very good. If anything happens, or you need help, please don't hesitate to reach out. Here is my card, call if you need me."
She went off to go find Bobby Singer, just hoping he wouldn't be as drunk and belligerent as usual.
xXxXxXxXxXx
"Are you sure about this?" John asked Pastor Jim for about the fiftieth time.
"Yes, John. I assure you that your aversion to this road is because you are a no-maj and they have charmed you to want to go the other way."
"Oh, alright. But are you sure? I think I left my wallet in the motel room."
Jim sighed and ignored his friend. It had taken some finagling, a large amount of lying, and calling in every favor from every connection he had to the wizarding world, but Jim had managed to get the two of them a tour of Ilvermorny.
John had been hoping that there was a legal way for him to get custody of Harry. The two of them had spent the last week doing research and asking questions, but nothing had come to fruition. Officially, because of the Convention, John had no legal rights to his son. Even if he managed to get a hold of a will from Lily and James themselves that said they transferred custody to him, he wouldn't be allowed access to his child. The law was iron clad when it came to hunters having magical children.
That, by no means, meant that he was giving up. He was perfectly comfortable living outside the law. And when John Winchester set out on a mission, he never gave up.
Which led to this little adventure. James and Lily, being clever, had made sure all the no-maj paperwork for Harry was completely legal and appropriate, which meant that he was an American citizen with every right to get his education from American institutions. Ilvermorny was the most well-known of these, but it was not unusual for American wizarding parents to send their children to a variety of different schools, including more no-maj like day schools.
Unfortunately, because the population of wizards was small and quite concentrated in certain areas, there would be no way to transfer Harry from magical school to magical school in the same way that he did with Sam and Dean. An option would be to send him to regular school with his brothers, with magic tutoring in the evenings and weekends. John didn't think Harry would like that option very much (not that his opinion would matter in the end), but he thought he'd get less resistance if he could send Harry to a school more like what he was used to. And Jim had assured him that Ilvermorny was as close to Hogwarts in the United States as one could get. He also didn't plan to tell his son about the fact that, legally speaking, there was nothing John could do to stop him from returning to England.
It was not uncommon for no-maj families to require a little convincing to send their children off to boarding school, so during the summer, the school was open to tours and interviews with the faculty and staff. It was unusual to have a non-practitioner bringing a no-maj to the school.
They parked the Impala outside of soaring gates. (Jim had had to drive, to John's displeasure, to get past the wards.) There was a man, quite average looking, middle-aged, waiting for them in long blue robes trimmed in dark red piping. Jim had to physically pull John up to the gate to stop his friend from turning around.
The man smiled knowingly and placed an enchantment on John that would allow him to see past the wards. He was stunned.
"Good afternoon," the man greeted. "My name is Dr. Webster Calderon-Boot III. I am the Headmaster here at Ilvermorny. You must be John Winchester and Jim Murphy; it is a pleasure to meet you both." He offered his hand in greeting, which John took.
John had also reluctantly agreed to use his real name. With all of Harry's official paperwork being under Winchester, there was no other way to get this meeting.
"Please, follow me," the man said.
"Uh, is it normal for… wizards to have doctorates?" John asked.
Webster laughed. "No, not in the least. I have earned my Ph.D. in Leadership and Policy Studies from a no-maj University, Vanderbilt, in their Peabody College of Education. I learned a great deal there, and I find that it helps put our no-maj parents at ease knowing that I have trained to be both a magical and non-magical educator. I'm going to take you on a quick tour of the school, and then we'll go up to my office to talk about your son Henry specifically and if this might be a good fit for him. And you. Does that sound agreeable?"
John was a bit dazed by the surroundings and the man in front of him, but he quickly got his act together, using the focus he had learned as a hunter. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea."
"Very good. Well here, we're in the entrance hall. This is where our sorting ceremony takes place…"
The school was very nice. Fancy. John couldn't even imagine what the cost of tuition must be, but he could always cross that bridge when he got to it. It still blew his mind a little that this whole world existed and he had had no idea. As someone particularly attuned to the supernatural, this was an odd feeling.
It was a little over an hour when they made their way to the Headmaster's office. It was a nice sized room with large windows that had sweeping views of the mountains around them. There were bookshelves on the other walls – that went all the way up to the ceiling and were all full. John wasn't sure that, outside of a library, and even then, that he had ever seen this many books in one place.
Dr. Calderon-Boot chuckled when he followed John's gaze. "Yes, I have a rather large personal collection. I don't know that I've ever found a book that I didn't want to read. Why don't you gentlemen have a seat? Is there anything I can get you? Coffee or water perhaps?"
"Coffee would be nice," said Jim.
"Make that two," John agreed, although he was a little hesitant to drink anything given to him by wizards.
"Excellent. Herbert?" The headmaster called. John jumped and fought the urge to reach for his gun when a small, large-eared, grey goblin-looking creature came into the room. He glared at John.
"Three coffees please – and maybe some of those excellent snickerdoodle cookies that I smelled being freshly baked earlier."
Herbert, so he was called, rolled his eyes, and went off.
"What was that?" John asked, stressed by the situation.
"Not a that – him. He is a Pukwudgie – a magical creature that is native to the United States. They are a grumpy group, but very helpful. Nothing to be concerned about – if you remember earlier, one of our houses is named in their honor."
John said nothing but was still fighting the urge to pull out a weapon.
"Mr. Winchester, I know that you have a gun on your person. I want you to know that we have very specific wards set up here at Ilvermorny that assure that no person – or creature, can be harmed by such a device. Safety is of the utmost importance to us here."
John nodded somewhat sheepishly. He could also really sense the power behind this man with those words. It also made him a little uneasy that wizards could make guns unusable. He'd have to ask Jim about that later.
The Pukwudgie returned to the room with the coffee and snacks before leaving again, grumbling the whole time.
"Now, why don't we start talking about your son, Henry. Tell me about him – I understand from Mr. Murphy here that he would be a transfer, which is somewhat unusual at wizarding schools."
"Henry…Henry has recently started living with me, he previously lived in England. I am not…pleased with some of the events that have happened to him at his school and feel like I need to find a safer placement for him for the rest of his education. I would prefer to keep him in the States, where I can regularly check up on him. My job requires a lot of travel, so it would be difficult to enroll him in a day school."
"I understand. Which school does he currently attend?"
"Um – Jim, do you remember? Something funny-sounding."
"Hogwarts." Jim supplied.
That surprised the headmaster. "You want to pull your son out of Hogwarts? That's almost unheard of!"
John thought for a second. "Dr. Calderon-Boot, are you aware of what has been happening in the wizarding world of the UK in the last couple of years?"
"Ah, yes, you are referring to the events of the Triwizard Tournament, aren't you? Yes, we were all greatly saddened to hear that a Hogwarts student died in the last task."
"I am. Henry was very…disturbed by the events of the year. I'm not sure he's truly processed what happened yet. I think that getting away from that environment will help him move past the death of his classmate."
"I understand, of course. Well, let's take a look at his file then."
"He has a file?" John asked, a little concerned.
"Of course, every American wizard does once they apply for a wand permit. I have access to the database. We're open to wizards of all power levels here at Ilvermorny, we've even had a few squibs throughout the years. We have a zero-tolerance policy on bullying, especially on the basis of blood-status or magical power."
He reached into what looked to be a regular wooden file cabinet – like the ones you might find in any modern American office. There were hundreds of folders and the Headmaster used his wand to summon the correct one. It was pretty thin.
"Here it is. Ah, an Ollivander wand – 11 inches, holly, phoenix feather. Strong wand – he must be a strong wizard. Oh wow."
"Wow what?" John asked, slightly concerned about what personal information the wizarding government had on his son.
"Just a very strong magical core."
"What does that mean?" John asked. He worried about the amount of power his son seemingly had. It meant that he could probably protect himself, but power also attracted trouble and could be a target.
"It's not unheard of course, but it is probably once every 50 years or so that we have a student with that much raw magical power. Does he struggle with mundane, theory-based magic, and excel in the practical?"
John was at a complete loss. "Uh – I don't know. We don't talk about…magic in my household."
The headmaster looked a little shocked. "But don't you read the reports sent out by Henry's professors at Hogwarts? It should contain that sort of information."
"Henry has been living in England with his mother up until now," John fibbed as quickly as he could. "I'm sure she's been getting the reports."
Dr. Calderon-Boot clucked his tongue in disapproval. "Here at Ilvermorny, we expect all parents to be intimately familiar with the curriculum and with their child's academic progress. In fact, I would very much like to meet with Henry's mother as well. It takes a village to educate a child and we require all parents, magical or not, to be involved. Several of our no-maj parents have even created online communities to speak with each other and provide a support network. Now where did I put that…" The man dove under his desk, wand out, looking for something.
John turned to Jim, who had just been listening in silence, sipping his coffee. Things had certainly changed since the days when he would have been going to Ilvermorny. "What should I do?" John mouthed to Jim. Jim shrugged, very unhelpfully.
The headmaster reemerged. In his hands, he had a thick packet, which he handed over to John.
"This packet contains the information that we normally give no-maj parents. It included information about our curriculum as well as a primer on the wizarding world in general. There is also a section on finances – I think you will find that we have some very generous scholarships for first-generation wizards and witches. And with the power level your son has, I don't believe that he will have a difficult time obtaining one. Now, I'm afraid I have another appointment this afternoon, so I will show you out unless you have any other questions?"
John had about a million more questions, but he understood a dismissal when he heard one. He shook his head no.
"Very good, I will see you out then."
They were escorted from the building. "Mr. Winchester, if you wish to ask more questions, or if young Henry himself would like to know more, feel free to set up another appointment. We can also speak via floo if that is more convenient for you. It was a pleasure meeting you both."
He went back into the building. John and Jim got back into the car. "Alright then," John said. "I think a trip to see Missouri should be next. I also happen to know of a case in between that we might be able to help with…"
The two men drove off.
From his office, Dr. Calderon-Boot watched as they left. He didn't approve of no-maj parents that were unaccepting of their children's magic. He thought this might be a difficult case, even since the wards had informed him of the multiple weapons Mr. Winchester had on him.
He sighed, sat down at his desk, pulled out his quill and parchment, and started writing.
Dear Albus,
I hope this missive finds you well, especially during these troubling times. Today I had the most intriguing visit from a parent of one of your students and would like to inquire with you to get some additional information. Mr. Henry Winchester is the pupil in question – a soon to be OWL student I believe….
xXxXxXxXxXx
One week since their father had left, and Dean was finally comfortable enough with Harry to leave him alone in the house with Sam. This was after wearing the both of them out with hunter training, a regiment prescribed by John. With strict instructions for them not to leave under any circumstances (double eye rolls – it was wonderful to have two younger brothers with attitudes) Dean went outside to tinker on some cars with Uncle Bobby. He valued the one-on-one time that he got with his honorary uncle and this summer he had gotten a lot less of it because he felt like he had to watch both his brothers with an eagle eye.
Back in the house, Harry decided he should probably try and get some homework done. Because he had been so concerned with the Triwizard Tournament, he was having to do quite a bit of reviewing of 4th-year material. It was annoying, and it meant that homework was taking even longer than normal. At least here he could do it out in the open and didn't have to cram it in late at night after the Dursley's had gone to sleep.
Today was History of Magic. He already finished Potions and Transfiguration. History of Magic homework was always boring, but he thought if he buckled down, he could finish his essays in just a couple of hours.
Well, he would have been able to, if he didn't have his recently-acquired younger brother pestering him about every five minutes.
He liked Sam, he really did, might even go far enough to say that he loved his younger boy, but the questions never ended.
"What are you working on today?" Said younger brother asked, bounding into the bedroom approximately ten minutes after Harry had started working.
"History of Magic – really boring stuff," he responded, not taking his eyes off of his textbook.
"Dude, you go to a magical school where you are learning magic – I don't see how any of it could ever be boring."
Harry sighed. "You sound like my friend Hermione."
"You always say that!" Sam shot back.
"Well, I mean it." This gave Harry an idea. He knew that Hermione was now at Sirius' house with the rest of the Weasleys (much to his annoyance). She and Ron were telling him nothing, and neither was Sirius. Every day he would have Sam use the computer to look at news in the UK, to try and see if he could figure out what Voldemort was up to. But, as annoyed at her as he was, he thought she might get a kick out of talking to Sam.
"Hey Sam – would you like to meet Hermione?" He asked.
Sam was hesitant. "Well, I would but Dean said we shouldn't leave…"
Harry laughed. "We don't have to leave. Wait a second – and pull the curtains closed." He went over to his backpack and pulled out the carefully wrapped mirror.
"What's that?" Sam asked. "And why am I closing the curtains?"
"It's a way to talk to my friends back home. They don't know where I am this summer, it's top secret. It's the evening in the UK and I don't want Hermione to question why it is light out when we call."
"Cool! I didn't know you were talking with your friends."
Harry snorted. "I'm not really – just sometimes and, honestly, I'm pretty annoyed at the lot of them. But that doesn't matter. I'm going to tell her you're my new American neighbor who just found out about magic. Sirius Black," he said looking into the mirror.
Sirius' face appeared immediately. Sam looked impressed. "Hey, Harry – I don't have a lot of time; I'm just heading into an Or – into a meeting. Can I call you back later bud?" He saw Sam in the frame. "Is that Dean in there with you? I haven't seen him since he was a baby!"
"No, this is Sam, Sam this is my godfather, Sirius. I was wondering if you could give the mirror to Hermione? We'd like to ask her for some homework questions."
"Oh, sure." Whenever Harry had called recently, he had always requested to talk with one of his friends. Sirius knew that he was angry, but it still put him off a bit. Harry seemed pretty happy with his family, and he didn't understand why he couldn't see that it was for the best. "Hermione!" he yelled. "Look kiddo, I'd like to talk to you some more sometime…"
"Sirius? Is that Harry on the mirror again?" Hermione interrupted.
"Yeah," he replied (Harry couldn't see her yet) "he has some homework questions for you. I'm going into the meeting. Maybe take that upstairs with you?"
"Of course," she replied. Her face swam into view. "Harry! We miss you. Also, I'm so impressed that you are doing your homework you really must have listened to me last year about revising. Who's that with you? That's not Dudley is it?"
Harry laughed. "You would know if was Dudley, Hermione, I promise. No, this is my br – my new friend Sam. His family just moved in down the block from the US and he's going to be starting Ilvermorny in the Fall. He's muggle-born though, so he has so many questions, I thought you'd be able to help."
Hermione beamed. "How nice of you Harry! Hi Sam, it's nice to meet you, I'm Hermione Granger. How are you liking the UK so far?"
Sam wasn't quite sure what to say. "Uh – it's great?"
"Well, I'm glad to hear it." Hermione was walking while she talked – on what Harry presumed was the inside of Sirius' house that he had never gotten to see.
"Who're you talking to Hermione?" Came Ron's voice from the other side of the mirror.
"Harry of course! And his new friend Sam."
Ron came into view. "Hi Harry, Hi Sam! Harry, you'll never believe what we've been up to here… hey, ouch!"
Hermione had hit him upside the head. "You know we're not supposed to talk about it while on the mirror, Ronald. And especially not in front of someone we don't know."
"Oh yeah, I forgot."
"Talk about what?" Harry asked, grumpily.
"Oh, don't be that way Harry, you know Dumbledore swore us to secrecy. As soon as you get here…"
"Well if Dumbledore told you to, I suppose you have to. IT'S NOT LIKE ANY OF THIS HAS ANY EFFECT ON ME!" Harry took a deep breath. "Look, we'll talk about when Dumbledore lets me out of here. I called so you can talk to Sam."
Sam looked a little shocked about his brother's outburst, but wisely didn't say anything. (Watching Dean all these years had taught him a lot on how to manage older-brother outbursts.)
"Who is Sam, Harry?" Ron asked.
"He's my new neighbor. Muggleborn, American." Harry didn't much feel like talking to his friends anymore. This had been a bad idea.
"Hey," Sam said over the awkward moment.
"Are you really American?" Ron asked.
"Uh – yeah, I am. I was born in Kansas."
"Oh, I don't know where that is."
"Ron, it's in the middle of the country. For Merlin's sake, you would think they would teach some basic geography at Hogwarts. Harry mentioned you had questions, what would you like to know?"
"Oh, everything!" Sam exclaimed.
"You're talking to the right person then mate," Ron snorted and left the view of the mirror, to leave it up to Hermione.
"Harry is always complaining about homework and I tried to tell him that nothing is cooler than doing magical homework for a magical school. He said that the library at Hogwarts is the biggest one he's ever seen, and he once took a school field trip to Oxford. What kind of books are in the library? Are there any normal ones? Or are they all magical? Do wizards have novels?"
Hermione grinned. "Oh, you'd love the Hogwarts library, it has everything, including…"
Harry stopped listening at that point, switching to brooding and getting angrier and angrier with his friends and Dumbledore and Sirius while the conversation went on for quite some time.
A little while later, Sam pulled him out of his thought. "Hey Harry, your friends are going to bed, they want to say goodnight." He thrust the mirror into Harry's hands.
He took it, wrapped it carefully, and put it away.
An hour or so later Dean came back into the house, covered in grease, but looking extremely pleased with himself. He walked into the living room to find his brothers. Sam was watching TV – but not paying attention to it, stealing glances at Harry. Harry looked as though someone had just murdered his dog. He was facing the TV, but not watching it. It was quite reminiscent of when Sam after he had gotten in a fight with their father.
"What's up with him?" Dean asked Sam, flopping down on an armchair, opening up a soda can.
Sam shook his head no. He wasn't touching this one with a ten-foot pole.
"What's up with you?" Dean asked again, this time directing the question at Harry.
"Nothing."
"Riiighttt. That's why you look like you just watched Bambi's mom get killed for the first time."
That got Harry's attention. "You've watched someone's mum get killed?" He knew that hunting was dark, but that seemed a little far to him.
Dean gave him a strange look. "Uh, no dude. Disney movie? Baby deer, lots of forest friends?"
"I've never seen it," Harry responded, shrugging.
"Dude, you've never seen Bambi? How is that even possible?"
"Wizard? We don't have movies."
"Yeah, but your family was normal right? So, in the first 11 years of your life, you never watched any Disney movies?"
Harry glared. "I would hardly classify the Dursley's as 'normal.' They simply didn't allow me to watch movies."
"Oh, they into that new age crap, no screen time for kids?"
"No," Harry responded simply.
Dean took a second to take that in. When he had first met Harry, he had been jealous that his younger brother had gotten to grow up outside of this life. He loved his father and thought the man was a superhero, but that didn't mean that he didn't occasionally wish for something different. Without the burden of responsibility of having to fight monsters and more-or-less raise a younger brother on his own. But the more time they spent together, he realized how lucky his upbringing had been. Thankfully, cheering up younger brothers happened to be in Dean's wheelhouse.
"Alright, we're not just going to sit around here. It's the summer, and this is sad. I'm gonna get Uncle Bobby to let me borrow a car – I think, Sammy, a movie night is in order. Can't have any brother of ours missing out of the classics."
"But Dad says you're not allowed to drive without him."
"Psh, what Dad doesn't know can't hurt 'im."
Bobby wasn't so irresponsible that he was going to allow Dean to drive a car by himself. They had already had one welfare check this summer, and he was keen to keep it that way. He did agree to drive them himself.
Of course, Harry had never been to a Blockbuster video before. He wasn't sure if they existed in the UK, but as his brothers argued over what movies to rent (Dean wanted Top Gun or Maverick, Sam was arguing for The Mighty Ducks or Mrs. Doubtfire) he enjoyed looking around. He also enjoyed the playful bickering between his brothers. Ultimately, it was decided that they would rent all four and have a movie marathon.
"Alright Sammy, we also need to educate Harry on proper dietary consumption during movie watching. I want you to pick out your favorite two types of candy, and I will get the popcorn, meet you upfront."
"Come on, Harry, you can tell me which one's you'd like to try the most!" Sam said, grabbing Harry by the hand and dragging him over to the candy section. There were so many options.
"How am I supposed to choose?" He asked, mystified.
"Well Dean loves Reece's Peanut Butter Cups, but I prefer Snickers bars. But Three Musketeers are also good – oooh, and Red Vines!"
"Alright, I think there is only one option here," Harry said very seriously.
"Oh yeah, what?"
"One of each. How can I give an honest opinion if I haven't tried them all?"
Sam grinned and the two of them started grabbing as much candy as they could carry. When they got up to the register, Dean looked at them with disbelief.
"I said two types of candy. Not twenty! How do you think we can afford that much?"
"Well, Harry said," Sam started.
"Harry said, this is all on him," Harry grinned and pulled out his credit card. Dean grabbed it from him.
"Dude, this has your name on it and everything – not even stolen!"
"I know. Sirius says my parents set up a bank account for me here before I was adopted. Said it was for 'emergencies,' and Sammy and I here agreed that me not having tried all of these different types of candy was an emergency, don't you agree?"
It was the first time that Harry had called him Sammy and that made the grin on his younger brother's face even wider. It made Dean pretty happy too.
"Yeah, I think so. Oh, there's an ice cream store on the way back to Uncle Bobby's – I think our lack of ice cream is also an emergency, don't you?"
"Absolutely," Harry grinned.
It had taken all three of them chanting "ice cream" many times at Bobby for him to agree to make another stop on the way back home ("Idjits," he had called them fondly.)
Once back at the house, Sam declared that to have a proper movie marathon, they were going to need to build a fort.
Bobby had shaken his head at this pronouncement. "I'm gonna leave you boys up to that. Don't destroy my living room." He grumped at them, but they could all tell he didn't mean anything by it. While Sam and Dean were debating the best way to go about building one, Harry pulled out his wand.
"Just watch," he said. Using magic, he suspended the gathered sheets and blankets in mid-air to form a tent with a roof and back wall. He then transfigured the couch cushions into large pillows that covered the whole ground. With an additional thought of whimsy, he added some sparkly lights to the ceiling. (Fort building was a long and proud Gryffindor tradition – on weekends they would regularly gather to turn the common room into one giant fort, so Harry knew what he was doing.)
"Woah," said Sam.
"Yeah, I've never seen anything like it," Dean commented. "Magic is awesome!"
Harry grinned. The three of them gathered in the fort, pulling blankets and pillows all around themselves as they gorged on popcorn and candy while watching movies. They stayed up far too late, and all ended up falling asleep in the fort before making it to their beds. Harry thought it might have been the best night of his whole life. Dean and Sam felt the same way.
AN – First, a thank you. All of your responses to this fanfic have made my heart so happy. I was really nervous, writing another one after so many years off, especially in a fandom that I am less-than familiar with. I thought no one read these comments until I got a morning's worth of reviews and comments about apple pie being American vs. British. (Actually, the morning side of all of it makes me suspicious – did I get trolled by a bunch of Brits? Reveal yourselves!) My friend was also thrilled when I told her about how y'all took her side in the argument (traitors, the lot of you). I'm joking of course, I super enjoyed every one of your disloyal comments. 😉
This chapter is a day early because I have to actually… horror of horrors, go into the office tomorrow, so I won't be able to post on my lunch break like I normally do. Waiting until I get back on Friday would zap any sort of productivity out of my day, so here we are.
If you don't already know what Harry Potter's favorite snack is, you're either too young or you've missed the best non-canon thing to ever happen to this fandom. I'm not sure it's ever going to make it into this fic (because I haven't figured out how to work it in) but I have written a version of The French Mistake episode with Harry (because it's in Canada/the US) going into Darren Criss' body – the Glee years. It's utterly ridiculous, but I don't know if I've ever had so much fun in my life.
This chapter is a lot of fluff, but I promise things get far more serious and substantial in the next chapter, the finale of Part Two, titled, "Too Good to be True."