Love, Fate and Prophecy

Part Three: Chapter One – Aftermath

September, 2009

Very much aware of the stares (and possible press) around him, Harry did his best to hold in his emotions as he walked his godson to Platform 9 ¾. It was very difficult to believe that the war had ended over ten years ago. It was even more difficult to see his beloved godson, Teddy, about to leave on his own great adventure to Hogwarts.

And as much as Harry was trying to hold it in, Teddy was certainly helping with the overabundance of joy he was showing to getting to finally go to school. He and Andromeda had spent the night before at Grimmauld Place with Harry, due to its proximity to Kings Cross. Teddy had peppered Harry with questions all night – trying to get his surrogate father to tell him how the sorting happened, and also trying to weasel information about secret passageways out of him.

"Harry, from the son of one Marauder to another – I think you should give me the map," Teddy tried one last time.

Harry chuckled and ruffled Teddy's currently green hair, "Nice try Mr. Lupin. You may have it in your third year – not before."

Teddy changed his eye color to match Harry's and gave him the look of a sad puppy.

"But I think my father, you know, the one who died when I was only a baby, would want me to have it now."

Andromeda gasped. "Edward," she said warningly. Harry was known to be fairly sensitive about the death of Remus and Tonks. But, this time, he just laughed it off.

"I'll have you know that said father confiscated the map from me when I was in my third year and I didn't get it back until the end of the year. Maybe I should make it your fourth year instead."

Teddy's eyes went wide. "No! Third year is good."

Harry smiled. "Good agreed, third year it is."

"Hey!" Teddy exclaimed, realizing the trick he had just fallen for.

"Alright buddy, I think it's time for you to get on the train. Remember, owl your grandmother after the feast – that's why you have Moony. I expect a letter too, at least one a week."

"I know Harry."

"Ok good. One last hug and then I'll leave you with Andy to say your goodbyes. Remember what I told you?"

Teddy thought for a moment. "If I'm going to misbehave, don't get caught?"

"No, not that," Harry said, giving a nervous glance to Andy, who didn't look too thrilled with that advice.

"Don't do anything you would do?"

"Not that either – but I did mean it. Teddy Lupin, I want you to remember that I love you. And so do your parents and every day you make all of us proud just by being the wonderful boy that you are." It was a message very important to Harry – as he felt he had never gotten it himself.

Teddy burst into tears and hugged Harry. "Love you too, Harry."

"Good, now say goodbye to your grandmother, don't forget to write, and follow in the proud footsteps of our fathers and give McGonagall hell."

"Harry James!" Andy exclaimed as Harry backed off a couple of steps to give the duo a private moment. He was going to pay for that later, but it would be worth it.

After Teddy had boarded the train, he quickly found a window to waive from. Andy was crying and Harry was doing everything he could not to as they said goodbye to the child that they had more-or-less raised together.

"Come on Andy," Harry said, after the train had disappeared from view, "I think a good cuppa is warranted."

She nodded and the two of them left together.

XxXxXxXxXxXx

Three days later

Harry walked towards his best friend's office with determination. These last three days had made one thing quite clear. He stepped into her office without knocking. "Hermione, this time I mean it. This is my letter of resignation." Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples.

"Harry…"

"Now, I know what you're going to say. I know this isn't the first time I've wanted to quit, but this time, I am serious this time."

"I'm sure you mean it right now Harry, but what about three hours from now? That's about how long it took you to come back after the last time you quit. The time before that, it was less than half an hour. If this is truly what you want, I will help you, but this is the sixth time Harry James Potter. Work day is about done, why don't we go grab a drink and talk this over? We'll even invite Ron, I'm sure he can take a break from the store."

"Fine, but I do mean it," Harry muttered.

Even though it had been more than a decade since the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione felt that Harry had still not fully recovered from a childhood at war. Honestly, she wasn't sure she had either, but she had at least moved on with her life. She had Ron and the kids, and she had risen in the ranks to be Assistant Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Ron, after a stint as an Auror, co-ran the store with George. The two of them were very happy. Harry, was another case altogether.

On the outside, he looked extremely successful. He had become the youngest Head Auror ever. The-Man-Who-Conquered was still quite famous and had been voted Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor every single year since the Battle of Hogwarts. Although there were constant rumors as to his actual relationship status. He and Ginny had dated for a couple of years – and taken many breaks. Both were quite busy and in no hurry to settle down. Ginny was Captain of the Holyhead Harpies and had played on the National Quidditch Team. They were extremely private about their dating life. Sometimes to the point that Hermione didn't even know if they were on or off again. This was very frustrating to Molly, of course, who wanted them to get married already and start a family. Personally, Hermione thought they were both a long way away from that.

While being made Head Auror at such a young age was an honor, those on the inside knew why it had happened so quickly for the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry was one of the best – a great Auror, but he did not like to play by the rules. He was reckless, a danger to himself. After Ron had retired, no one else could handle partnering with Harry on field calls – he simply wouldn't allow anyone to get hurt if he could prevent it. That protective streak had landed him in too many life-and-death situations for anyone to be comfortable with the status quo. His friends were sure that he was going to get himself killed. The Ministry knew that the populace would never forgive them if he died while on the job. So, he had been promoted to desk duty. He was actually an excellent administrator, to the pleasant surprise of all. Even though he had never sought it out, he was a natural leader and under him, Britain was seeing an unprecedented period of peace.

That was the outside. On the inside, Harry was prone to bouts of depression and anxiety. Many times, Ron and Hermione would have to come "rescue" him from muggle pubs where he had drunk himself into a stupor. With the press following his every move and constant reminders of his public approval ratings (which were fickle, of course) as well as the desire to lead as the shining beacon of light for all of wizarding Britain, he was under a lot of pressure. And the war haunted him. He still blamed himself for every single innocent death. Sometimes, that made him determined as hell. Other times, it reduced him to a sobbing, drunken wreck on the floor of Grimmauld Place.

Trying to quit his job was a sign that he was beginning to spiral. Ron and Hermione knew the signs intimately and did their best to help him through it. Ginny helped too, of course, and all the Weasleys. But Hermione was beginning to worry that he would never be able to move past this. She sent a quick Patronus to Ron, asking him to meet the two of them at the Leaky Cauldron as soon as possible. She also sent one to Hannah.

Unknown to the public, but highly speculated about by the press, Hannah and Neville had created a second bar of sorts at the Leaky Cauldron. It was the most exclusive bar in London. The only people permitted were former members of the DA and the Order of the Phoenix. No press could get in and no one would leak anything that they overheard or saw. It was a safe haven for all of them. But most of all, for Harry. The group referred to this special, officially non-existent bar as The Room of Requirement. (This started as a reference to their traditional meeting spot, but now was largely a joke about the amount of alcohol needed to satisfy the thirst of the group.)

Ron managed to arrive at the bar before his wife and best friend and already had beers waiting for them at their usual table. No other DA members were about – they had the bar to themselves.

"So, I heard you've quit again. Any special reason why this time?" Ron asked upon seeing his friends. Harry flushed a bit.

"Don't you start in on me already," he said.

Ron held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not starting in on you, but I thought we could at least talk about it. Is this about Teddy? Because you just saw him off to Hogwarts for the first time?"

Harry took a long drink from his beer. "No… well, maybe."

"Ah ha," said Ron, "Hermione, you owe me a sickle. Ginny owes me five."

Hermione grumbled and handed over the money.

"We had a feeling that his leaving might make you go 'round the bend again," Ron explained, not that Harry hadn't already figured it out on his own.

"I haven't gone 'round the bend," he said. "There's just nothing left for me. We've rounded up the Death Eaters, dark wizards have largely gone underground and all that is left is the usual petty crime. I don't even get to fight it anymore! I do paperwork all day long. Before, when Teddy was still growing up, I had least wanted to be around for him, but now…" He finished his beer. Harry wasn't coping well with Teddy's absence.

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. They could tell that this was going to be a bad one.

"Harry, there is an opportunity that I've been meaning to talk to you about for a while now," Hermione said, hesitantly.

That seemed to pull him out of his head for a second. "Yeah, what's that? It's not another promotion, is it? Because I don't think I could take it." He summoned a whiskey bottle from behind the bar, and a glass and poured himself a generous serving.

"No. Not a promotion. More of a… sabbatical."

"Are you trying to get me to go on holiday again? Because you know what happened the last time…"

"Yes, yes, Harry, none of us need to remember what happened in the Maldives," Ron interjected. "Trust me, that's the last time we try to get you to relax. You realize that we are now banned from several southeast Asian countries, right?"

Harry chuckled. "Ha, yeah, that's true."

"No, not a holiday Harry, a sabbatical. MACUSA has been asking us for years to lend you to them, they would love for you to teach some workshops to their Aurors. I've always said no on your behalf, you've made it clear that you have no interest in the States, although I'm not sure why, but I think it would be good for you. We all think it will be good for you. Ginny too."

"You've already talked to Ginny about this?" Harry asked although he supposed he shouldn't be surprised.

"Yeah, of course, mate, not just going to send you off without my sister's permission," Ron shuddered, "That would not end well."

"We've also consulted with Luna, you know how she has a sense of these things," Hermione was referring to the only person who she trusted to do any sort of Divination. "And she said, and I quote, 'It's the only place Harry can heal,' whatever the hell that means. She'll never elaborate. I know she knows more. She just wants to piss me off." (Hermione, at one and a half beers, was already slightly tipsy.) "But she was very positive about it."

Harry hadn't ever considered returning to the US. He knew what awaited him there – rejection and hate. But maybe he deserved it. Maybe he could face them again.

"What would be my official purpose then, training Aurors?"

Hermione smiled. She didn't think that she even would have gotten this far. "Yes, and helping them prepare to hold the Quidditch World Cup next summer."

Harry didn't say anything – just poured himself another drink. Hermione figured it was better than the upfront, "Hell, no," she had always gotten when suggesting foreign posts in the past.

Hannah must have spread the word that Harry was out for drinks tonight and in need of the protective company of his friends as old members of the DA started trickling in throughout the night. Even Neville stopped by to give Harry a fresh update on Teddy – a now proud Hufflepuff, just like his mother before him.

Hermione had lost count on how many drinks Harry had had before she slipped out to go pick up the kids from Molly's. Thankfully, someone had already taken Harry's wand (she suspected it was George) and Ron had given her the signal that he would watch over their best friend for the rest of the evening, so she felt alright leaving. They oftentimes took turns, but this seemed like a night where Ron would be best.

It was getting close to about eleven at night when Harry seemed to be at the point of needing to be cut off. There was a fine line, that Ron now found instinctually, of allowing Harry to shed some inhibitions and expressing emotions he normally would not and letting him fall into an extremely dark place.

"Alright, mate," Ron said, helping Harry up from the booth. "Time to get you home."

"But it's not even midnight yet Ron!"

"I know Harry, but I think you've had enough."

Harry pouted. It would have been cute if Ron hadn't seen that look a million times. And if Harry wasn't a grown man.

Harry stood and wobbled, and it took all of Ron to hold him steady. While his best friend was leaning on him, still complaining about having to go home so early, George came over and snuck Harry's wand into Ron's pocket. "Thanks," Ron muttered.

"You need help?" Asked George.

"No, I got him," Ron grunted back, struggling a bit under Harry's weight.

Harry drunk and magic were not a good combination. The-Boy-Who-Lived was just too strong magically and while accidental magic was no longer a problem for him, no matter what his mood, he would sometimes put just a little too much power into his spells when he'd been drinking. It may or may not be the reason why the Golden Trio was no longer welcome in the majority of South East Asia. Or Reykjavík. (Rio was probably just a temporary ban though.)

Ron expertly steered Harry towards the floo and managed (somehow) to get them both back to Grimmauld Place without any major disasters.

Harry collapsed on the sofa.

"Ron," he said, he slurred, "I'm not sure going to the States is the best idea. They hate me there." He was very serious. "Said I was a freak."

Ron was very confused. As far as he knew, Harry had never been to the States. He had refused to cross the border when Ginny had been playing in the last World Cup in Canada and all his friends were headed to the American side of Niagara Falls.

"I've heard they love you over there – quite the Harry Potter mania for a while. But the war's been over for years now, I'm sure the hype has cooled by now."

Harry shook his head. "Nope, nope, told me never come back. Not safe."

"America's not safe? Have you heard something?"

"No, no. I'm not safe."

"Mate, you're not making any sense at all."

Harry huffed. "Wait here," he said in his most commanding Head-Auror voice, which was negated by his walk as he toddled off. Ron was at a loss and was debating on whether or not to follow him.

"Ron, get in here!" Harry yelled from the study on the other side of the room. Ron ran over. Harry was fumbling with the magical safe. "I need my wand," he said.

"Uh, Harry, you're still pretty drunk, I'm not sure…"

"Ronald Weasley, you give my wand back to me or I'll tell Hermione about, about…" he thought for a second and then said, "you-know-what." When Ron just gave him an impatient look, Harry tried again. "I'll tell your mum."

Ron turned white, gulped, and handed it over, hoping that he wouldn't regret it.

Harry used his wand to unlock the safe. "Here, you can have this back," he said, surprising his friend by giving his wand back for safe keeping. "Don't want another incident like in Iceland."

He pulled a bundle out of the safe – one that Ron had never seen before, it looked like an old backpack. He opened it and grabbed something out of it. Ron gasped.

"Harry is that a gun? Where in Merlin's name did you get one of those? And why?"

"It's mine," Harry said possessively.

"Yes, I got that, why don't you hand that over to me," Ron said, as gently as he could.

"It was a present."

"Alright, great, but Harry, is it loaded?"

Harry shrugged, "I dunno. Probably. It would be like John to give me a loaded gun."

Harry placed the gun down on the table and started rummaging through the bag. Ron took this opportunity to send a quick patronus to his wife. He had a feeling he was going to need backup. While his Jack Russell Terrier ran off, he gingerly removed the gun from the table. He had only handled a gun a couple of times in his life – they were a bit of a taboo in the wizarding world, plus any wizard worth his salt could ward against them, so they weren't particularly useful as weapons.

When Ron was examining the gun, he noticed the initials engraved in the silver handle. "Who is H.W.?" He asked, not expecting an answer out of Harry.

"Henry Winchester," Harry responded, distracted and pulling a couple of books out of the bag while he reached towards the bottom.

"Ok – who is that? I thought you just said someone named John gave you this?"

"It's…"

Hermione burst into the room, panting a bit.

"I'm here… what's going on? Is Harry ok?"

Both men looked at her, a little surprised.

"That was quick – where are the kids?" Ron asked.

Hermione waved him off, "I left them at your mother's, I had a feeling… Ronald, is that a gun?"

"Yeah – Harry said some guy named John gave it to him."

Hermione turned to her best friend. "Why do you have a gun, Harry?"

Harry sighed dramatically. "Catch 'er up," he said, sitting in his desk chair, clearly exhausted.

Hermione looked at Ron expectantly.

"Er – Harry said that Americans hate him and that he's not safe there? Then we came in here and he showed me this gun that he says belongs to him but has the initials H.W. on it."

Harry nodded in agreement with all that Ron had just said. "John gave it to me for my birthday," he explained. "That was before he realized I'mma freak."

"Harry! You're not a freak. And you're not making any sense. Maybe you should just go to bed, and we can talk about this in the morning."

"But Hermione, he hasn't… oh right, yes, let's get you to bed Harry."

There was a special bedroom at Grimmauld Place set up for nights like this, separate from the normal bedrooms that all three of them had in the house. On one of the upper floors, in Regulus' old room, there were three single beds set up. Ron and Hermione would put Harry in the middle one and they would sleep on either side, so that if he got up in the middle of the night, one of them could take care of him. It was very reminiscent of the close quarters they had kept during the war. Exhausted from an emotionally charged day, all three of them went to sleep.

The next morning, Harry awoke with a groan. His head was killing him and his stomach felt… actually it was better that he didn't think about how his stomach felt. He was beginning to feel his age – in his earlier twenties he would have woken up feeling just as clear-headed as if he hadn't had a night out, but something happened at 25 – oh, no. He ran to the bathroom to throw up.

As he exited, Ron was in the hallway, waiting for him. "Rough night, eh?" He asked, far more cheerfully than Harry thought necessary.

"As if you didn't know," Harry grumbled.

"Well, mum has prepared a full breakfast, and Hermione's downstairs laying it out."

Harry felt his face get a little greener. "Molly's not here is she?"

Ron laughed. "No, I wouldn't dream of it – she does not need to see you in this state. Hermione went over to check up on the kids – who I'm beginning to believe prefer the Burrow, and mum sent it over. Also, her hangover cure."

Harry groaned. "I don't know what's worse – the hangover or your mother's cure for it."

"That's exactly the point, you know. She thinks its proper punishment for drinking too much. I don't envy you."

The two of them headed downstairs and ate the enormous breakfast that Molly had sent over. Hermione and Ron kept the conversation light and worry-free until after Harry had taken the cure (which required a full stomach to be effective).

Then Ginny arrived.

"Gin!" he exclaimed, giving her a quick kiss. "I thought you were off at training?"

"I was – I am, but Hermione sent me an owl. I believe we all need to have a little chat." She said seriously.

Harry looked around at his friends, wary. "What did I say last night?"

"Not enough," replied Ron. "Let's go into the study where we can… talk."

Harry honestly didn't remember a thing that had happened – including how he got back to Grimmauld Place, he must have blacked out. He hoped this wasn't another intervention, those were always painful.

When they got into the study, Harry saw his backpack on the desk. He went white. "Who took this out?" He demanded, turning to Ron and Hermione. He also pulled out his wand. "You had no right."

"Steady there Harry, we didn't take that out, you did. Why don't you put your wand down and maybe you can explain why you have a muggle gun from someone I've never once heard you mention," Ron responded.

Harry looked wildly around, thinking of trying to get out of there. This was not something he wanted to discuss. Ever. With anyone. This was his deepest, darkest secret. He was beginning to have a panic attack, the room spinning slightly around him, his magic butting at him from under his skin and it felt like every nerve was tingling.

"Harry," Ginny said gently, swimming into his line of sight. "Why don't you have a seat and take a couple of deep breaths." She maneuvered him into a chair. When Hermione had sent for her this morning, she thought it might have been Harry not handling Teddy going off to Hogwarts very well, but clearly, there was something more going on. "Ok, Harry. Remember what the mind healer said – think of five things you can see, four things you can hear, three things you can feel, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. Deep breaths." She guided him carefully through the meditation and he could feel his mind clearing a bit.

The two of them had seen mind healers both together and separately, and this was one exercise that one of them had given Ginny to help Harry through panic attacks.

Harry didn't have panic attacks often, but when he did, they were bad. Aurors who worked under him would claim that Harry was steadier and more cool-headed in a crisis than anyone else. But, when he did break down, it was epic, and always in the safe confines of his own house (or mind healer's office.)

Hermione offered him a calming draught.

He shook his head. "No, I'm alright now. Thanks." He took a couple more deep breathes. "I suppose I've gone so long without talking about it, I never thought it would come up ever again."

His friends let him sit in silence to gather his thoughts. He had been doing a lot of work with a mind-healer recently (not about this, of course) but maybe it would help, if he spoke it aloud. Even if it was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Do you all remember the summer between fourth and fifth year?"

There were nods.

"And how I was put on trial for having an illegal portkey?"

Again, more silent acknowledgment, but they let him continue.

"Well, it wasn't a domestic one to get away from Dementors, although there was an encounter at the time. I spent most of that summer in the States."

"I'm sorry, what?" Ron asked. Hermione glared at him.

"Do you remember my neighbor that you talked to – the one going to Ilvermorny?"

"The American, right? I did think it was odd that the Dursley's were letting you spend so much time with him. I wrote him a letter, but he never replied." Hermione said. "I just figured he got busy with school and forgot. What was his name again? Samuel?"

"Sam, yes," Harry said. "Well, he wasn't – isn't a wizard and he did not attend Ilvermorny."

"Harry, that was dangerous, you let me talk to a muggle at length about Hogwarts!" Hermione was always concerned with following rules and she was mortified that she broke the International Statute of Secrecy.

Harry sighed. "Don't worry Hermione, you didn't break any laws. He isn't a wizard - he is my brother, Sam."

Dead silence. Ron was afraid that Harry had had a complete mental break.

"Harry … you don't have a brother, not a blood one at least."

Harry looked at him. "I do. Two actually. This brings us to that gun and H.W. H.W. is me. It was me, at least. I was born an American. My parents were muggles. My birth name is Henry Winchester and my father, John, gave me that gun for my 15th birthday."

An explosion of questions followed.

"How is this possible? It's not is it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Harry let them get it all out. All three looked at him, demanding answers. He got up from the chair and went back to the backpack on the desk. He pulled out two official-looking documents – both blue with the seal of the United States on the front and handed them to Hermione. It was pretty clear that Ron and Hermione weren't sure they believed him. Ginny knew he wouldn't joke or mess around with something like this.

"Harry, these are American passports," Hermione said dumbly. "Muggle ones. And this second one – it's up-to-date. You got this only five years ago."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, the first one was only good for five years. To keep some finances up-to-date, I finally had to get it renewed. I thought about letting it go – but…"

Hermione sat down hard in a chair. "You know what this means, right Harry? It means that you shouldn't even be allowed to be Head Auror – you have to be a natural-born British citizen to be in your position."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. Not that any of this was particularly funny, but Hermione was just so damn predictable – she went directly to the potential consequences of this information, instead of thinking about what it meant to Harry.

"I assure you it is all perfectly legal. I was legally adopted – both the muggle and the magical way. As my parents were both British citizens, as am I, even though I was born overseas. It was through the American Purpura Convention. So technically speaking, I can still claim my half-blood status."

"Harry is this why you've always refused to go to the States? Didn't you have to return to get this passport?"

"I did – very briefly though. Look. It's a long story. Maybe it's best that you just listen and I'll tell you everything."

And he did. He told them everything he could remember. About the convention and the plane trip. Meeting Dean for the first time – meeting John. How he and Dean bickered constantly and barely managed to be civil towards one another for the majority of the time. The strange American wizarding customs – especially with non-practicing wizards. Sam's constant curiosity. Meeting Bobby. Learning about hunting and training with his brothers – helping with a few salt and burns. And even talking about John, the most painful part of it all. How he had seemed like he wanted to keep Harry – how Harry had hoped that he loved him, even. The pressure from Sirius and Dumbledore not to stay. How he had finally felt at home like he had a family, and ultimately, with the dementors, how it all came crashing down around him.

He looked like he wanted to cry towards the end of it all, Hermione and Ginny with him. Ron looked furious. But even with the reawakened feelings of rejection, confessing all made him feel lighter, like the burden of the last fourteen years was lifted from his shoulders at last.

"He told me that if I ever returned that he would hunt me down. I thought maybe after he had cooled off, he might reach back out again. But I never heard anything. Not from him or Sam or Dean. I figured it was probably for the best. You all know better than anyone that being related to me is dangerous. And if anyone were to find out that I had a muggle family, they would be a target. Even in the States. They're better off without me. And I've been too cowardly to face any of them again." Thoughts of self-hatred came roaring into Harry's mind. After being rejected by two different blood families, he had always thought that the problem must lie in him. He waited – wondering if this would be the moment that Ron, Hermione, and Ginny rejected him too.

"Harry, you're an idiot."

"Ronald!" Hermione snapped.

Harry looked up.

"I meant it, a complete idiot. I know, of the Golden Trio, I'm considered the dumbest, but it's not me. It's you. Harry, the people who have you in their lives are the luckiest people in the world. And I'm not just talking about what you've done for Britain. You are generous to a fault and more forgiving than any other man I've ever met. Hell, you've forgiven Snape. And Merlin knows why you helped Malfoy after the war. I know you'd go to any length to protect those of us you love and we are all better for it. And I'm willing to bet you my share in the shop that you've not one hundred percent stayed away from your family this whole time."

Harry had the good grace to look ashamed. Hermione looked like she wanted to kiss her husband.

"Well, Harry? Have you had contact?"

Harry shook his head. "Not directly."

All three looked at him with pointed stares. They knew he didn't like to admit when he had been generous, but they weren't going to let this pass.

"I may have found… small ways to help them. Sam applied and went to college. Graduated even, with honors. I may have set up the scholarship that helped him out. At one point, he wanted to go to law school and I had it all ready to go – but the funding request never came through." Harry was immensely proud of his younger brother. It wasn't quite the way he had promised his brother that he would be there for him, but it was the best that Harry could think of, while still maintaining a distance.

"And Dean and John?"

Harry winced. "They get along by running credit card scams. And they still think they do! But even I know muggle companies have gotten better at spotting it over the years. So, it has been arranged for them to… find credit card offers, and even though they think they're running a scam, I pay all the bills. I'm told they got suspicious of a card once, so my team makes sure that they stop working every couple of months and they find new offers."

Hermione gasped in exasperation. Of course, Harry Potter was funding American hunters. That seemed on-brand for his level of trouble. And here she was thinking that he had gotten reasonable in his advanced age. "How many people do you have employed to watch out for them?"

"Er – not many."

"Harry…"

"Eleven, ok! It started as three, but really, they travel so much and are tough to keep up with. I don't know any details – the project manager just lets me know what resources are needed and I provide them. And it's all in different shell companies. The paper trail would take an expert to track – I think my team has made it near impossible. I hope they have, at least. I haven't seen any of them this whole time – but, they're my family…"

All of this was quite heart-breaking, but it did fill in some gaps on where some of Harry's insecurities came from.

"Alright, enough of this emotional crap," Ron grumbled. "I think another night out is what we all need. Although, maybe slow down the drinking a bit Harry. Ginny – activate the coins. And Harry, if I ever hear you call yourself a freak again, I'm personally going to organize an event where everyone is invited to come and say nice things about you to your face. For hours."

Harry flushed with embarrassment at the very thought of the threat. "Alright, alright. Fine. Let's get some drinks."

XxXxXxXxXxXx

Naturally, in the coming weeks, Hermione had thrown herself into research. She wanted to learn everything there was to know about Hunters – both American and British, as apparently there were still British hunters, just safely under the control of the government. While Harry had maintained a full distance from the day-to-day lives of the Winchesters, his team filed regular reports on all of them. He had just put them aside in a filing cabinet, to which he had given her access. She poured over those reports as well as government files. Luckily, she was high enough up on the chain of command that she had full security clearance.

Additionally, she learned everything she could about the Convention. How it worked – what it might mean for Harry. While wizards didn't have a lot of research or understanding of genetics, Hermione liked to keep current on modern muggle science, just as light reading before bed. Somehow, the ceremony performed changed altered a baby's genetic materials. Instead of receiving genes from two parents, the child would have the genetic equivalent of four parents. She frowned slightly when the outdated articles said that the child would only pass on genes from their adopted parents onto their children. She highly doubted that was the case.

Harry entered her office, interrupting her thoughts. They had an appointment today, and she wanted to brief him on a few things.

"Hey Hermione," he said as he entered the room. "I had some of the junior Aurors pick up some pastries from your favorite bakery."

"Harry. That is hardly an appropriate use of your employees." She chided.

"Does this mean you don't want this pain au chocolate I had them pick up for you?" He teased.

"Absolutely not – hand that over."

Harry pushed the bag towards her as he took a seat.

"Hermione," he started. "I've been thinking about it, and I think that I should go on this sabbatical. I talked it over with Ginny and my mind healer and they both agreed that it could bring me some … closure."

Hermione nodded. "I'm glad to hear you say that Harry. When I mentioned it to our colleagues that you were considering it seriously for the first time, they were pretty excited. But Harry, there is something you should know before you go."

"What's that?"

She hesitated for a second. She wasn't sure how to tell him this, but it was important. "Harry – John Winchester died three years ago."

Harry's whole body stilled. He held his breath. He felt … hollow. The man had rejected him, kicked him out, but there had always been some small hope, that maybe - no, he wouldn't let himself go there. He pushed the grief of what might have been down. Maybe this was for the best, he could have a fresh start with his brothers. If they even wanted that. Woodenly he asked, "How?"

Hermione shook her head. "The official medical records state that it was as a result of a car crash. But it's strange because while he was admitted to a hospital after the crash, the records first indicated that he had made a complete recovery. In all likelihood, it was something to do with his profession."

Harry nodded. That seemed about right. He let out a breath. "Sam and Dean?"

"As far as I can tell, they are both still alive. Although they also both have certificates of death to their names – I spoke to your team about details. It appears that they have continued with the family business. Together."

It shook Harry that his brothers could have died – that his father had died, without him knowing. It cemented his feeling that now was the time to go back.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just surprised. When do I start?"

AN – Happy Friday! I'm sorry if my last chapter hurt your feelings – at very least, I predicted that some of you would not be happy with the turn of events. It's what had to happen to tell the story that I would like to tell, but I understand the resentment. In my view, there was no chance that Harry would ever abandon the fight against Voldemort – to have him chose otherwise would be extremely out of character. Now, did I have the separation happen in a particularly angsty/tragic way? Yes, yes I did, maybe because I'm evil.

This is a different Harry than canon Harry. I'm trying to remain true to who he is to his core, but take into mind that his experience with the Winchesters have shaped him quite differently. If you would like to read a HP/Supernatural crossover that features a more epilogue-friendly HP, I highly recommend Demented'verse by hells_half_acre. It's my favorite SPN/HP crossover and I purposefully tried to veer off course from it in my own work, as to not invite comparison, because I don't think I would come out favorably. I love everything about that fic – especially the Harry Potter characters.

I know that my choice to skip ahead may also be highly unpopular. I have eight chapters so far in this Part written – and I think that's only half way through, so Part 3 is going to be quite long. But boy has it been fun so far. I'm super bad at keeping secrets – so it's very hard for me not to give y'all a preview and mention who will be showing up along the way, but I don't want to ruin anyone's enjoyment.

A note about Sam's college. I understand that there is great debate in fandom about how long he actually went. I've decided that Sam started college at age 18 in the Fall of 2001 and graduated in May of 2005. Was planning on starting law school in 2006. He was taking a year off between undergrad and law school to work, save up money, stay in Stanford with his girlfriend when Dean showed up.

Next chapter is entitled, "Free to be You, Me, and Harry." I'm very much looking forward to bringing the Winchesters back into this and that title will be a dead giveaway for where we are in the series.