Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural.
February 2010.
Dean wasn't exactly sure how he ended up hiding in Bobby's kitchen, talking to his no-longer-dead wife while the older hunter was sleeping in the living room and Hermione locked herself in her old room, oblivious to all that was taking place.
Well, he had a vague idea how that happened. It involved pies.
Currently, though, he was sitting in the kitchen, a slice of pie in his hand and about two dozen more around him, Karen taking one out of the oven even as he ate.
"I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that you like pies," he said in between bites. "Did you bake all these?"
"I don't know what it is," Karen said with an embarrassed smile. "Since I got back, I can't stop baking."
"Yeah, when do you have time to sleep?" Dean asked.
"I don't," Karen admitted. "Must be the excitement."
"Or being dead."
The words slipped out of Dean's lips before he could stop himself, and though he did mean them, he couldn't help but feel slightly bad as Karen's expression darkened slightly.
"I know you don't trust me," she said. "And I know Hermione hates me."
"Why would you say that?" Dean tried, but there was no real attempt to conceal his feelings.
"Come on, Dean," Karen said, rolling her eyes at him. "That's why you're here, isn't it? Keeping an eye on me? I know who you are. Just like I know Bobby's not the same mild-mannered scrap dealer I married. You hunt things. I…" She took a deep breath. "I'm a thing. I get it."
"So then you know that Sam and I would never let anything happen to either Bobby or Hermione," Dean said. "That they're like family to us."
"I understand," Karen replied. "And he's lucky to have you looking out for him, Dean. But you're not the only one."
"Is that so?"
Once again, Karen fell into a short silence before speaking again.
"I remember everything, you know," she finally said when she spoke again. "When I died. That Demon taking over my body… and the things it made me do. And Bobby having no choice but to…" Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before resuming. "Well, you know what he did. But I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. The guilt. It weighs on him."
"So why don't you just tell him you remember?" Dean asked.
"Would you have, if it had been Hermione?"
Without even needing a moment to think of it, Dean knew that he wouldn't. just like Hermione didn't tell him the worst of her time in Hell, just like she tried to pretend to not remembering any of it after she came back.
She wanted to protect him from the truth… just like Karen was now trying to do for Bobby.
"He's my husband," she sighed. "My job is to bring him peace… not pain."
Dean didn't stay long after that, swiftly finishing the piece of pie and leaving before Hermione would come downstairs to check up on her dad.
Later that night found Dean and Sam returning to Bobby's house. Hermione was the one to let them in, much to Bobby's dismay, but even he couldn't stay indifferent when Sam told him what happened earlier that afternoon – namely, the old woman who came back from the dead and had now turned cannibalistic.
"Keep your damn voices down," Bobby said as Sam finished explaining how she nearly killed him, as well, before he shot her. "Karen's upstairs."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Dean snapped. "We're a little tense right now. Who's old lady Jones?"
"The first one to come back to life," Hermione replied.
"First one to go bad," Sam said, nodding at her.
"Ah, she was always a nutty broad," Bobby dismissed.
"Dad, she had Alzheimer's!" Hermione called out in desperation, ignoring Bobby hushing her to continue on her rant. "Between that and eating Mr. Jones there's a long way to go."
"Look, Bobby, I feel for you," Dean said, "but you have got to acknowledge that you're not exactly seeing this straight!"
"Bobby, whether you admit it or not, these things are turning," Sam pressed. "We have to stop them – all of them."
Before any of them could say another word, Bobby grabbed a gun from behind the sofa and placed it threateningly in his lap.
"Time to go," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
"What?" Dean asked, shocked.
"You heard me," Bobby said, just as sternly as before. "Off my property."
"Or what?" Sam asked. "You'll shoot?"
"If Karen turns, I will handle it my way," Bobby insisted.
"Dad, be realistic for a moment –"
"You too."
Hermione paused mid-sentence, looking like she had just been slapped.
"What?"
"You heard me," Bobby said, nodding at her but not taking his eyes off the Winchesters. "All of you, get out of here. Now."
"This is my house, too!" Hermione protested.
"It was her house first!" Bobby replied. "And if you can't accept that, then there's no place for you here."
Hermione looked at a loss of words for a moment before turning to the hanger by the door and grabbing Sirius' old leather coat.
"Have it your way, then," she said, her voice laced with unshed tears. "I hope the two of you live happily ever after before she turns psycho-zombie on you and eats you alive."
For a moment, Dean could see a hint of remorse in Bobby's eyes, but it was gone as soon as Hermione rushed out the door, slamming it behind her.
"Bobby, you're making a mistake," Dean tried, only for Bobby to cock his gun.
"I'm not asking you again."
Sparing only a half look at the old hunter, Sam and Dean left, hurrying to find Hermione before she got lost on her own in a dark town filled with zombies.
Luckily, they didn't have to wait long as Hermione was pacing less than three feet away from the front porch, her wand resting on a car's hood as she loaded what seemed to be silver bullets into her handgun.
"Mya, what are you doing?" Sam asked, rushing to her.
"What does it look like?" Hermione asked back. "I'm gonna kill her. I'm gonna friggin' kill her before she kills him!"
"Let's all just take a breath and think about this," Dean tried, but Hermione wasn't listening.
"Don't you have a town full of zombies to save or something?"
Dammit, she was right.
Dean exchanged a quick look with Sam, who nodded in understanding and agreement. He would go back to the town while Dean stayed here to make sure Hermione didn't accidently get herself killed – by either Bobby or Karen.
As Sam rushed into the Impala, Dean turned back to Hermione.
"Look," he started, "before you rush into this, you need to think this through."
"I have thought it through," Hermione said. "I have been thinking it through for a week. She's dangerous, Dean. For all we know, she could be killing him as we speak!"
"You really think one zombie can take on your Dad?" Dean asked. "Come on, Mya, you know him better than this."
"No, I don't," Hermione said, done loading her gun and cocking it before wielding it in one hand and her wand in the other. "I know who he is when he's not next to her. The man I saw here the past week… he's not my Dad."
"Yes, he is," Dean insisted. "Just because Karen's here doesn't mean he isn't your Dad anymore. But you need to see his side of it, too. She was the love of his life. He lost her once before, he doesn't want to lose her again."
"So now you're justifying him?" Hermione accused.
"No!" Dean defended. "But I – I understand, alright?"
Finally, Hermione paused long enough to look at him. He seemed almost desperate for her to understand.
"I'm just saying, if it were you who was gonna turn zombie on me… I don't know if I wouldn't have acted the same."
Hermione closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath as the tears started streaming.
"I…" she took a ragged breath. "I understand. And I'm sorry." Dean almost let out a relieved breath, only to stop as he saw the way she was clutching her wand. "But that's exactly why I can't let you interfere."
"Mya –"
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Dean's rigid body fell to the ground, and Hermione wiped the tears from her face.
"I am sorry," she said as she walked around him, heading to the house. "I hope you understand, too."
She found the front door locked, but that didn't deter her. A quick Alohomora sorted that out and soon she was inside the house. Both the kitchen and the living room were empty, so Hermione headed up the stairs.
They must be in their room, she thought. That's where he would take Karen if she was starting to show symptoms. Which means her transformation should be any moment now.
The closer she got to the bedroom door, the louder she heard them talking.
"I remember," Karen said.
"You remember what?" Bobby asked.
"Everything," Karen replied. "The Demon inside me. You killing me. I remember."
"Then you know… why I can't do it again," Bobby said, his voice cracking.
"I remember something else, too," Karen went on. "When I came back… There was a man."
"What do you mean, a man?"
"At the grave," Karen explained. "He was so thin. Like a skeleton. And he told me to give you a message."
"Me?" Bobby asked in disbelief as Hermione slowly entered the room. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"You've seen so much," Karen said, and now Hermione could see the tears streaming on her face. "I just… I just wanted to see you smile."
Bobby's back was shaking, and Hermione realized he was crying, too.
"What was the message?" he asked.
"He said…" By this point, Karen's body started shaking. "He said Lucifer sent him here, for you. That with you gone, Sam would give in." She closed her eyes in pain before opening them once more, still shaking. "Please, Bobby, please, do it. I can't… I don't want to hurt you."
"I…" The gun was so close, only a few inches away, but Bobby couldn't bring himself to reach out towards it. "I can't."
"You don't have to."
Bobby jumped at Hermione's abrupt words, turning to look at her. He clutched Karen's hand tighter, even as Hermione neared them with her gun.
"All my life, you've been protecting me," she said. "Please, just this once… let me protect you."
Bobby was full out crying at this point. Hermione never saw him like that before, but at last, he nodded. He let go of Karen's hand and stepped back, only for Hermione to shake her head.
"Get out," she said softly. "Out of the room, Dad. You don't need to see this."
Bobby hesitated for less than a moment before nodding, leaving with only the smallest glance at Karen. Once he was gone, Hermione turned her own attention back to the woman on the bed.
"I'm not happy about having to do it, you know," she said.
"Yes, you are," Karen replied. "I know you are. You wanted me dead since the moment I came back."
"Yeah, I did," Hermione agreed. "But I won't enjoy this."
One last tear left Karen's eyes before she closed them.
"I know."
It took no more than a moment for Hermione to take aim and pull the trigger, but the sound of the gunshot was almost deafening. Wiping away a tear of her own, she walked out of the room, making sure to close the door behind her.
They still had all the other zombies to take care of.
The next morning, they lit up Karen's funeral pyre.
Hermione took care of it all – she transferred the body from the bedroom to the pyre while making sure Bobby wouldn't accidently get a glimpse of it before magically cleaning the bed from Karen's blood.
If someone didn't know better, they would never have even guess someone was shot there.
Both Hermione and Bobby knew better.
Standing in front of the house, Hermione held her father's hand tightly as she cast the spell to light the pyre. Not a special fire, just a regular one.
A proper hunter's funeral.
Neither the father nor daughter said anything until Dean and Sam arrived, standing by their side.
"So," Bobby said, his voice hoarser than usual, "thinking maybe I should apologize for losing my head back there."
"Bobby, you don't owe us anything," Sam was quick to say.
"And, hey," Dean added, "at least you got to spend five days with her, right?"
"Right," Bobby said. "Which makes things about a thousand times worse." Hermione tightened her grip on her father's hand as he spoke. "She was the love of my life. How many times do I got to see her die?"
"Never again," Hermione replied. "Never."
And, maybe, if she said that with enough certainty… he would believe her.
