Love, Fate and Prophecy: Bloodright
Part Four: Chapter Eleven – Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus
Previously
"Harry…someone tried to break in the Department of Mysteries a couple days ago. It somehow leaked to the press and people are up in arms. They're all claiming this never would have happened on your watch."
"Shit." He turned to his brothers. "Have either of you seen Castiel recently?"
They both shook their heads. Sam was lying, of course. "Fuck. I'll be right there."
"Thank you, Harry."
"What's happening, Harry?" Sam asked.
"I'm not sure. Look, will you guys be alright? I don't want to leave you in a lurch, and Kings really doesn't have the right to call me in, but it's really important."
Dean and Sam looked at each other. "Yeah, we can handle it," Dean responded. "But what…"
Harry ignored him and just flew off.
Harry didn't go straight to the Ministry. He didn't even go to England. He flew directly to Mount Olympus. It's where the privacy wards would be the strongest.
He started to pray. He didn't even have time to say the words out loud before the object of his prayer appeared before him.
"Young padawan, it has been far too long, I thought that you had abandoned the way of the Force."
Harry gave him an annoyed look. "It's been a couple of weeks. And I texted."
"Ah yes, these delightful little ditties. 'With brothers in States,' sent at the time that you were supposed to meet me. And then the oh-so-charming, 'Told Cas about veil,' both very descriptive and not at all concerning."
"It doesn't matter. Castiel tried to break in the Ministry."
"I know."
"Did it go according to plan?"
"I don't see a bunch of ancient, evil, wizards walking around out here, do you?"
"No."
"Then I think the answer is pretty clear."
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He was so used to any plans that he made going sour, no matter how well executed. "That's two wins in two weeks."
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Oh, do tell?"
"Like you don't already know?"
"I have an idea, but I'd like to hear you say it."
"You're a prat."
Gabriel didn't say anything but gave Harry a shit-eating grin.
"Sam's got his soul back."
"Yippee. That means that it's only a matter of time until they kick you to the curb."
"Gabriel…" it was an old argument between the two of them. Gabriel raised his hands.
"Look, I'm not saying that they don't care about you at all. The Winchesters are loyal enough to their friends and chosen family. But only to a point. If one of them is in danger, and sacrificing you, either literally or figurately, is the way to remove that danger, they will cut you out or down. They might hesitate. But, in the end, they are dangerously co-dependent."
Harry knew this was how Gabriel felt. And he wasn't even so delusional to think that there was no truth in that statement. But he was stubborn. "With me around, they'll never have to make that choice."
Gabriel threw his hands up in frustration. "Fine. Don't listen to me. It's your funeral. Do you need to practice the wards again?"
"No. You've already made me practice both the sigil themselves and the magic behind them. You're sure it will work?"
"I'm hurt! Do you doubt me, young padawan?"
"Always. I'm not an idiot."
"That remains to be seen. I believe you will be needing this – " Gabriel conjured a vial that looked as though it was filled with white light and held it out to Harry, Harry reached out to take it, but the Archangel pulled it back at the last second. "You'll be careful with this?"
"Of course. If there is any left, I'll bring it back to you."
Gabriel nodded. "Good." In a rare moment of actual seriousness, he said, "The wizarding world doesn't know what they've got with you as a savior. This action will protect all of wizardkind."
Harry didn't know what to say, so he just nodded and flew away.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Draco watched as the Winchester's left their motel room. Potter had been with them earlier. Ironically, they were easier to track when he was with them. The idiot had placed all sorts of enchantments to stop his brothers from being tracked, but none on himself. Typical Gryffindor, unable to think through an entire plan.
Speaking of, the shirt that Astoria had picked out for him was red. Red plaid, layered on top of a white undershirt. His trousers were made from the atrocious muggle fabric – denim. It was all horribly uncomfortable and undignified. On top of it all, she had insisted that he leave his hair loose and unstyled. She had said all of this would help him blend in and seem less intimidating to any American Hunters he ran into, not just the Winchester brothers.
Draco disillusioned himself as he took out his broom to follow the black abomination of a vehicle that the elder Winchester seemed to dote on. All the way to…oh, gross, what looked to be the entrance to a sewer. He spent a good solid ten minutes deciding if this was the particular adventure that he should insert himself into at all. He had seen Wanker Winchester grab a sword of all things before heading in.
He was about to leave until two creatures entered the sewer. They weren't muggles. Or wizards. There was something profoundly off about them, even though they appeared to be human. Almost on curiosity alone, Draco decided that it was time to save the day.
He cast a quick charm to cover up the sheer stench of the space that he entered and followed the signs to where he could hear women crying and the sounds of a fight. He ran as quickly as he could – hoping that he wasn't already too late.
It took him a second to take in what he was looking at. There were at least half a dozen women in a cage in the floor. The two monsters that he had seen enter not that long ago were each attacking one of the brothers. Draco had to say that he was a little impressed at how well the muggles were doing. A little annoyed as well. The short one dropped the sword that he had been using against the creature he had been fighting and Draco knew that this was his moment. He quickly disillusioned himself.
"Accio sword," he said, summoning the weapon to himself. This got everyone's attention and for half a second the fighting stopped.
"Who…" the mammoth Winchester asked before the creature that had been fighting him came to his senses.
"Sam!" Dean called out, seeing the incoming attack. Sam, Draco supposed, turned back to the monster, that's hands were glowing. The fighting resumed.
Draco quickly jumped into the fray, which felt like it was going against his very nature. He attacked the one closest to him – going up against Sam. "Stupefy," he tried. It bounced straight off the creature, but it made it turn toward him and away from the gigantic Winchester.
"Wizard," it growled. "You have no place here," its hands glowed and it advanced.
Draco tried a quick succession of spells, none that seemed to hit the creature as it drew towards him quickly.
"The sword, you idiot!" Sam yelled.
The creature got close enough to Draco to knock the wand out of his hands, so he had no choice, but to use his left hand to bring the sword up. If he hadn't been so terrified, he might have appreciated the irony of the situation. He was able to slash the creature and saw that the sword drew purple blood – so it could be hurt. The creature knocked him prone and just as he thought that he was going to die on this extremely foolhardy mission of his, the huge Winchester used his freakishly long arms to grab the sword and wound the creature, causing it to back up.
Draco felt like he didn't even have time to blink before he saw the now-armed Winchester stab the other creature in the back, killing it immediately, saving his brother from certain death. The second creature seemed to – apparate away?
His wand was just out of his arm's length. He was trying to reach it when he felt a boot on his arm. He looked up. It was elder Winchester.
"What are you doing here," he growled, applying light pressure to the wizard's arm.
"I, uh…"
"I know Harry didn't send you, why have you been following us?" He demanded, now drawing the sword and placing it against the blonde's throat.
"Dean!" Sam said. "He's a wizard."
"I know what he is," Dean responded. "But that doesn't change the fact that I don't know what the fuck he's doing here."
"He was helping!" Sam said, and he knocked Dean's arm slightly to the side to remove the blade from Draco's throat. He offered a hand to help him up off the floor.
"Sure, he was," Dean said, looking at him closely. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you here and now."
"I…er…I came to…"
"You know what, I don't care."
Before Draco could figure out what was happening, a fist hit him squarely in the jaw and he fell to the floor. Everything went black.
xXxXxXxXxXx
As it turned out, he was an idiot, Harry thought to himself. He stupidly chose to enter the Ministry from the public entrance. He was so focused on his goal that he hadn't thought.
"Look, it's Harry Potter!" someone shouted. Harry didn't know who did it, but he hated that person. All of sudden the Atrium, which was filled with press anyway, became a mad rush to reach him.
"Mr. Potter! Are you back to help?"
"Mr. Potter! What do you think of the Ministry failures in your absence?"
"Sources say that you are calling for the Minister's removal! Do you plan on taking his place?"
"Mr. Potter!"
"Harry!"
"Mr. Potter!"
Harry sighed. And cast sonorous on himself. "May I please have everyone's attention?" The hall went quiet. "Thank you. I am here in a consulting capacity. I have full faith in the Minister and my replacement as Head Auror. I cannot comment on the events that have brought me here, partially because I am yet to be fully briefed, and partially because this is an ongoing investigation, on which you know we do not comment. I thank the Wizarding population for their support and well wishes during this transitional period of my life. I am now a private citizen, so I will not be taking any questions at this time. Now, please clear a path."
He canceled the spell and was very grateful that he still commanded some sort of respect here as people cleared the way for him to enter. He approached the security desk.
"Hey, Ryan," he greeted the watch wizard.
"Head…Mr. Potter. It's good to see you. The Minister is expecting you."
Harry nodded and went straight past security. On one hand, he was happy that he didn't have to present his wand, as it was currently stored in a blade, on the other, this was an obvious breach of security protocols. Maybe he'd mention it to Hermione later.
He strode confidently over to the Minister's office. "Inga," he greeted the secretary. Her face lit up. "Oh, they'll be so happy to see you, go on in."
"Thank you, Inga," he went in the door. Everyone in the room looked up. It was filled to the brink with the most important people in England. From the new Head Auror to the Minister, as well as the Head of the Department of Mysteries, and even the Muggle Prime Minister.
"Thank Merlin," Hermione said. "Took you long enough, let me catch you up…"
"No need," Harry brushed off. Hermione looked surprised. But Harry was back in full Head Auror mode. "I know exactly what broke in and how to stop it from happening again. Now, what do you all know about angels?"
xXxXxXxXxXx
"But who is he?" Sam demanded after he entered the passenger side door of the car. Dean had tied up the wizard and stuffed him in the trunk of the Impala. They had saved the girls, but one of the dragons had escaped.
"He went to school with Harry."
"You just attacked one of Harry's friends?! Won't he be upset?"
"This asshole is not Harry's friend. They were childhood rivals, according to Harry's friends the two of them can't be in each other's presence for more than a couple of minutes without a fight of some sort breaking out."
"So, why would he help us then?"
"I have no idea. Which is why I'm putting him in the trunk of the car and taking him back to Bobby's with us."
"Will the trunk hold him?"
"Should."
"Would it hold Harry?"
Dean snorted. "I'm not convinced there is anything that could hold Harry. But that son-of-a-bitch is no Harry. I took his wand. Most wizards are worthless without one."
Sam recognized the end of a conversation when he heard one. Fine. If Dean was going to be such a jerk about the wizard in the trunk, Sam would change the topic. He took a deep breath.
"I am so…so sorry. I can't even begin to say," Sam said, changing his tone. He meant it.
"For what?" Dean asked.
"You know what." Sam couldn't believe how obtuse his brother was pretending to be.
"Did Bobby…"
"Cas."
"Cas. Friggin' child."
"You should have told me, Dean."
"You weren't supposed to know."
"What I did? What I was going to do to Bobby? What I did do to you? I'm sure I wasn't a peach to Harry either, although Cas didn't mention him much. Of course, I should know."
"Sam, Death didn't just shove you soul back in, okay? He put up the great wall of Sam between you and the things that you don't remember. And trust me when I saw that the things you don't know could kill you. That's not a joke."
"All right. But I have to set things right. Or what I can, anyway."
"It wasn't you."
"You know, I kind of feel like I got slipped the worst micky of all time…and I woke up to find out that I had burnt the whole city down. And you say it wasn't me, but…I'm the one with the zippo in my pocket, you? So, I'm not sure it's that cut and dry. And, look, I appreciate you trying to protect me. I really do. But I got to fix…what I got to fix. So, I need to know what I did."
"But you don't know how dangerous that could be."
"What would you do? Right, the same thing."
"Sam…"
Sam set his jaw. "Look, I understand why you're hesitant to tell me stuff that might jog my memories. Maybe, let's just start with the things I should know that I didn't before. Doesn't sound like soulless me was very interested in what you and Harry got up to while I was hunting with our somehow resurrected grandfather."
Dean knew that there was no talking Sam out of something when he was like this. And if this delayed his having to refuse to tell him about the worst part of it, he would take what he could.
"What did Cas tell you about what happened to Harry after he killed Michael?"
"Not a damn thing."
"Fine, we'll start there. First, you have to know that Harry's friends are overprotective assholes…"
xXxXxXxXxXx
Draco came to slowly. He was in a dark room – he couldn't make out much of what was around him, except from the way the light was hitting, it appeared that he was underground. He was also tied to a chair. Nonmagically. Also, his head hurt. That fucking wanker had knocked him out! After he had helped. Granted, that is what Draco himself might have done, but that arsehole was supposed to be like his damn Gryffindor brother.
For the next several hours, he remained tied to the chair. He knew he wasn't alone because he could hear muffled voices and footsteps above him, but no one approached the door or came anywhere near him. This gave him more time to take in his surroundings. There was an odd symbol on the floor and everything around him seemed to be metal. He didn't see any sign of his wand and he spent some time trying to both undo the knots that were holding his hands together and trying to call on some kind of wandless magic to get him out.
But it was to no avail. If the situation had been dire enough, he might have been able to spark some sort of emergency magic, but since he was simply tied to a chair and bored, nothing was going to kick in. Draco did notice that he was more injured than he ought to be – he could feel the bruises all over his body. He was guessing that that was from whatever sort of transportation the Winchesters had used to get him here.
Finally, when he thought that he might start shouting in frustration with boredom, the door opened. It was the giant Winchester, carrying a tray that looked to have food and drink on it. Draco hadn't realized how hungry and thirsty he was until just that moment. Behind him came the Wanker Winchester, with a mean look on his face that might have scared someone who hadn't had Voldemort living in his house for a year. Lastly, came Potter, who shut the door behind him. The power and anger radiating off The-Boy-Who-Lived did cause his anxiety to go up.
"Malfoy," he greeted coldly.
"Potter," Draco responded, his voice rusty from lack of use. "I would say it was a pleasure but…" he shrugged his shoulders to demonstrate his lack of mobility.
"Sam, you can untie him," Potter ordered.
"Harry…" the other brother said. Harry glared at him. He shut up. Draco could see that Potter wasn't just angry at his presence but that his brothers had probably just been treated to a classic temper tantrum.
The huge one came over and untied his arms. Draco stretched but didn't get up from the chair. He pointed to the tray that was on the table. "That for me?"
"Yeah." Potter conjured a small table and levitated the food over to him. Draco looked at it warily.
"Did you put anything in this?"
"No."
Draco figured that was the best he was going to get. Potter was enough of a good-doer that he figured that poison was above him. He dug in quickly, very hungry. The men just stared at him, silently. It was weird.
"So, are you going to tell me why you're holding me hostage, or are you just going to stare at me all day, Scarface?" He asked after he finished the last of the glass of water. Potter flicked his wand and the glass refilled itself.
"We'll be the ones asking the questions here, buddy," the one who knocked him out in the first place said.
"Then ask already. Unlike you, I have a wife and child to get home to who are probably worried about now."
"I told Hermione you were here. She'll be in contact with Astoria," Potter said off-handily.
That lessened Draco's worries. If Potter was willing to tell people where he was, that meant that he didn't plan on killing him. "Great, Granger contacting her won't worry my wife in the least. Since they're such good friends."
The wanker punched him in the face. He hadn't been expecting that.
"Why have you been following us around?" He demanded.
"Ow," Draco responded. "You going to let him treat me this way, Potter?"
Potter looked pained. "Answer his question, Malfoy."
Draco hesitated. And got punched in the face again – the other side this time.
"Dean…" Sam said, apparently opposed to the violence.
"This little fucker has been following us for months and all of sudden decides that he would like to help us out? I don't buy it for one second. I won't ask again. What is your deal?"
"He's been following you for months?" Potter asked. That surprised Draco, he would have thought that he would have already known.
"Uh – yeah. I left you a message. He tried to convince me that you sent him to get me out of jail."
"You know I don't know how to check those!" Potter responded, extremely frustrated.
"Why'd you bother to get a cell phone if you don't check your fucking messages! Or answer it."
Potter ignored the first question. "You didn't think it was odd that I didn't ask you about it?"
"I thought you had taken care of it!"
"You thought…WHY IN BLOODY HELL DID YOU THINK THAT?"
"Because he's just as big of a prat as you are, Potter. It must run in your family."
The one that he now knew was called Dean growled, "Shut up."
Potter's attention snapped right to Draco. "What did you say?" He asked in a dangerously low voice.
"I said you're both prats. What, you spend a couple of months in the States and you forget English, Potter?"
"Not about that. About my family."
Oh. Potter didn't know that he knew. He really was a moron. "You're brothers. Merlin, Potter, I've suspected for months. You just confirmed it though, thanks."
Potter's eye's narrowed and he pulled out…what in Merlin's name was that? It looked like some sort of weird, short sword. Whatever it was, it was sharp and against Draco's neck.
"I didn't confirm a damn thing."
Draco didn't like the sharp object on his neck. But he did like how angry Potter was. Irritating the Boy-Who-Lived was his specialty, he perfected it in their school days. Maybe if he riled him up enough, he would storm off. Plus, it had the added benefit of being fun. "Whatever Potter. I overheard Witless talking to Half-Breed about it. I found your grandmother. You can't deny it now. You're wearing a glamor now, but you even look like them. I knew you were a blood-traitor, but I never imagined you were also a mudblood."
Potter dropped the blade from his neck and punched him in the stomach. Hard. He probably would have kept going, but his tall brother pulled him off.
"Alright, that's enough," he said. "Dean, Harry, go upstairs and cool off. I'll ask him questions. When you can talk without resorting to physical violence, you can come back down." He stood in front of Draco as if to guard him.
They gave him almost identical scowls. "Fine. I need a drink, anyway. Let's go, Harry."
Before he stepped out of the door, Potter turned around, "Incarcerous," he said. Black ropes snaked up and Draco was once again tied to the chair. "Try anything and I will kill you." He left.
Sam sighed as he watched them leave. He turned to the man tied up in the chair. He went to try and undo the bindings.
"Don't bother," Draco drawled. "You won't be able to break them without magic. Especially since Potter cast the spell."
"Oh. Alright then. I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Sam. I'm sorry about them…they're both a bit hot-headed."
Draco scoffed. "I've known Potter for a very long time. You don't need to explain him to me. I'm Draco Malfoy. We met once before, in Scotland." There was no recognition in the man's face, which was interesting. "It was brief."
"Right. You helped us with the dragon. Why?"
The wizard cocked his head slightly to the side. "Is that what that was? Muggles are mad, you know. Our dragons are the proper sort. Scales and wings and all."
"You didn't answer the question." He was calm but serious.
"I don't know if you'll believe me…"
Sam's eyes narrowed. "Try me."
"I was trying to get on Potter's good side. I thought that if I saved his family – something I know he values more than anything, blood or not, that he would listen to me."
Sam laughed. And then stopped. "Are you serious?"
"Yes. I have found myself in a precarious political position. I've been blackmailed, which is why I've been following you and the wanker around, but I realized the information that I now have is too valuable to share. I thought if I brought what I knew directly to Potter, that we could cut a deal and I could go back to my life."
"And you couldn't have just said that to him?"
Draco thought of that. "How much do you know about Potter and me?"
Sam shrugged. "Very little. Dean knows more. I know that you aren't friends, but you were classmates at Hogwarts."
"That's an understatement if I ever heard one. Enemies is a better term. We hated each other. Still do, as I'm sure you can see. The war…the war changed things. I don't like Potter, but he can be depended to do the 'right thing,' like the Gryffindor he's always been."
"Even though you hate each other."
"Yeah."
Sam knew that Harry was a hero of sorts in the wizarding world. But to have a self-described enemy describe him in such a way made him realize the kind of integrity his brother had. He wasn't sure that any of Dean and his enemies would describe them in the same way. "If you wanted his help, why did you verbally assault him?"
If Draco had had the range of motion to shrug, he would have. "Force of habit."
Sam frowned. "Well, I'm gonna go upstairs and talk to him. Maybe I can act as an intermediary of sorts since neither of you seem to be capable of controlling your temper in front of the other. Are you alright? He hit you pretty hard."
"It's better than the time he hit me with a curse that nearly made me bleed out." He saw the look of hesitation in Sam's eyes. "I'll be fine. Wizards can withstand more than muggles. It's nothing a quick couple of healing spells won't fix."
"Alright." Sam left the room. Draco took a deep, painful, breath. Maybe this wouldn't be a waste of his time, after all.
xXxXxXxXxXx
When Castiel came to he was in a bed. Which was very odd for him, seeing as he didn't sleep and had rarely needed to lie on a bed before. Although, since meeting the Winchesters it seemed to have been happening more often. He moved to get up. A soft hand met his shoulder.
"Slowly, Castiel, you don't want to further damage your wings. They're quite lovely."
Swimming into his vision was a young woman with long, blonde, hair and pale skin. If Castiel had been the sort to notice what female humans wore, he would have found her earrings, made from a vegetable of some sort, odd, but seeing as he was an Angel of the Lord he didn't give them any special thought.
"Who are you? Where am I?" He demanded to know.
"I believe you've heard of me. I am Luna Lovegood, a friend of Harry's. You are currently in Southwestern France. It was quite clever of you to remember the blessed waters of Lourdes. You would have been much more hurt if you had not taken action so quickly."
That made the angel relax a little. He had, indeed, heard of this witch. If magical people could prophets, she would be one. In Enochian, she was called Phurdrux. He wasn't sure what the English equivalent would be – recaller, possibly. Her family line was holy.
"How did you find me?"
"You called out quite loudly on angel radio. That's what your friend Dean, calls it, which I like. I happened to be finishing up some work I started here a couple of years ago. I thought you would be safest with me."
"You know Dean?"
She tilted her head slightly to the side. "We've met. Harry introduced us."
Castiel nodded seriously. "Did he send you to me?" He suspected that the wizard knew exactly what would happen to him if he tried to enter the area where the portal was. And he hadn't stopped him from trying or tried to help him get around the defenses.
"He did not. I doubt that he has any idea where you are. You may want to call your friends to let them know that you are alright. You've been asleep for the last couple of days while we healed you."
"We?"
"My fiancé, his father, and myself. We are all quite experienced with non-humans. All of your feathers have grown back in, but you might want to be careful flying for a little bit."
"You can see my feathers?"
She nodded. "They are very beautiful. I also sent Newt to the caves to gather any that fell out. We have them all here in a bag for you."
Castiel was touched. There were many humans and nonhumans that would use angel feathers for nefarious means or financial gain. "I – I thank you. You are kind."
Luna smiled. "You have a good heart, Castiel. You are not like other angels. You see what others don't and care deeply. You mustn't lose yourself in your ambitions and forget what brought you here in the first place."
If it weren't for the pure sincerity in her voice, Castiel might have been offended. But this woman seemed to understand him in a way that he wasn't sure that anyone else did. He nodded and sat up. He could feel the new plumage and it was itchy. But a stretch of his wings told him that the damage from the magical fire had been repaired.
"Are you ready to leave?"
"I'm afraid I must. I am fighting a war."
"Yes. I know of this war. We are not holding you here, of course, although the area is warded against other angels. As I said, you may want to avoid flying for a couple of days. I have a portkey that will take you to the United States if you wish to meet up with the Winchesters."
He nodded. "That may be the wisest course of action."
She held out what appeared to be a necklace made of corks from wine bottles. He reached out to take it. She also slipped the bag with his feathers over his shoulder.
"Castiel, one more thing."
"Yes?"
"Harry does not have to be your enemy. It would be unwise for you to treat him as such. He is brave, noble, and loyal to a fault. It is those qualities that truly give him his power. Like Dean and Sam, he will stop at nothing to protect those he loves. If the three of them are working together, I doubt that there is anything they can't overcome."
Cas nodded sharply. He would need to think on that. If Harry was against him and he pulled Sam and Dean onto his side, that could mean very bad things for him and his cause. Best to nip that in the bud before it was too late. Then, when this was all over, he would explain it to his friends, and they would see that the end justified the means.
"Portus," she said and Castiel was whisked away.
xXxXxXxXxXx
"…he just wants your help," Sam finished explaining to his older brothers after coming up from his conversation with Draco Malfoy.
Both of them looked at him like he was crazy. It was the same expression and it freaked him out a little bit.
Harry snorted. "Typical. Just bloody typical. He wants my help so he spends a considerable amount of time insulting both me and you. The pair on him…"
"I don't understand what he said that upset you so much."
"He called you a half-breed."
"Yeah? Seems rude, but not…"
Harry cut him off. "He was insinuating that either of your parents was a creature of some sorts. It's what he calls one of the kindest men I know."
That didn't clear anything up for Sam. "And this man is half what?" Dean asked.
"Giant."
Dean couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. Harry glared at him. "He's a dick, but that doesn't mean he's wrong."
"Hagrid is almost nine feet tall. I assure you – Sam is short in comparison."
"That's what he called me. What was the word he used for you…mudblood?"
"Don't say that word," Harry snapped.
Sam held his hands up.
"Sorry. You wouldn't know, of course, I didn't either the first time I heard him say it. It's the equivalent of a racial slur – hate speech, for wizards who are born to muggle parents."
"Which you are," Sam said.
Harry was just going to agree with that statement, but Dean shook his head. "He wasn't. Dad was a squid."
"Squib," Harry corrected.
"Right, right. Grandma was a witch."
"Is a witch. In both that she has magic and is one of the most unpleasant women I've ever had the misfortune to meet."
"What?" His brothers were doing absolutely nothing to clear up what the hell was going on here. Sam honestly felt like the two of them had learned some sort of secret language when he was gone.
Dean continued his questioning. "You've met her?"
"Yeah."
"Without us?"
"Yeah. She reached out to me. I suppose because of Malfoy. That's one mystery solved. Although I'd still like to know how he knew to even look for an American relative of mine. If he wants my help, I think I'll go ask him," Harry was pretty desperate to get out of this conversation. He should have just kept his mouth shut when Dean talked about Millie.
Sam put a hand out to stop him. "Wait a second." He gave Harry a searching look. "You've been keeping things from us. Again. From Dean, I suppose, more than me. You know that has to stop right?"
Harry felt like his younger brother was looking into his soul. He sighed. And nodded. "After I get rid of Malfoy, we can have a talk."
"Get rid of?" Dean asked, a little concerned. Only a little though, he trusted Harry's judgment.
"I'm not gonna kill him."
"Good, well, we're coming with, just in case," Sam said.
Harry rolled his eyes but headed down to the safe room, his brothers following closely behind. Honestly, he had been putting up with Malfoy for twenty years and he hadn't killed him yet. Although he supposed that wasn't from lack of trying.
Malfoy appeared to be utterly bored when Harry entered the room. Which infuriated him, just a little bit. "Sam says that you want my help."
"What, no small talk, no barbed insults?"
"Malfoy, I have a hell of a couple of days, you probably want to stop taking the piss out of me."
"Fine. It's Joanne."
"Joanne?"
"Dr. Hess."
"Oh. What about her?"
"She's been blackmailing me. Or, rather, my family. Ever since I joined the department. That's why I joined the department. She wanted an "inside man," to try and control the situation. You really should learn some subtlety, Potter. But I suppose that would be asking too much of you."
Harry pulled up a chair and sat down. He was grateful that Sam and Dean had remained silent so far. Malfoy was irritating enough without having to balance conversation with his brothers at the same time.
"What does she have on you?"
Malfoy squirmed.
"Malfoy…if you don't tell me, I can't help you. I might not anyway, just out of principal."
"Could you untie me first?"
Harry scoffed. "Fine." He flicked his wand blade and the ropes disappeared. Malfoy stretched and ran his hand through his hair. Something Harry had never seen him do before, probably because it was usually filled with slime. "I don't have all day, Malfoy."
"It's not me. It's my dad."
Harry looked at him with disgust. "What has dear ole Lucius gotten himself into this time? Trying to resurrect Voldemort," Malfoy flinched, "Grow up, it's just a name. Is he trying to bring him back?"
"No. Of course not."
"Well, you have me at a loss than, Malfoy."
"It's just…will you promise not to arrest him if I tell you?"
Harry huffed. "I can't bloody arrest him, can I? You got me removed from my position."
"Wait…what?" Dean asked. "This son-of-a-bitch got you fired? You don't have a job anymore?"
"I did not!" Malfoy responded, heatedly. "You chose to resign, Potter. Couldn't handle even the tiniest dent to your perfect reputation. Saint Potter lives on!"
"It wasn't about my reputation."
"Yeah. Kind of figured that out. So did Joanne."
"You figured out what based on my resignation?"
"That there was something more than your reputation on the line. That was supposed to be it, by the way, the end of my agreement with the Merlin-damned Men of Letters. I got charges brought up against you and then I could go back to my life. But no, you had to do a Wronski Feint, which made them more suspicious and ever since then I've had to traipse over this stupid country trying to figure out your secret."
Harry smirked. "I was always a better seeker than you."
"Not this time, Potter. I play the long game. I almost gave up after I tried to jailbreak the Wanker over there. But then I got my big break."
"Which was what, exactly?"
"He was speaking on one of those muggle devices. Mentioned that you were his brother."
There was dead silence in the room.
"So, it's true."
Harry took a deep breath. He didn't see the point in denying it anymore. "Yeah."
Malfoy grinned. "I knew it! This is the scandal of the century, you know? Harry Potter, nothing more than the unwanted mudblood progeny of filthy American hunters."
This time, it was Sam that lost his temper. He punched Malfoy in the jaw, knocking him out of the chair and onto the floor. He then lifted him by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. "You don't talk about our family that way. He wasn't unwanted. He was kidnapped."
"Alright, alright," Dean said, moving over to where Malfoy was pinned against the wall. "You can put him down, Sam." Sam released his grip. Only to have Dean take his place in a swift motion and throwing a left hook into Malfoy's face, breaking his nose with a satisfying 'crack.'
All of this took Harry completely by surprise. He had never had family, real, blood family, that was, defend him against anyone. As nice as it was, it was too little too late. He wasn't a child that needed protection from a bully. He used a spell to push his brothers away and helped Malfoy back into the chair. "That's enough."
Malfoy spat out blood but decided against throwing any more insults at Harry.
"So, you found out that I had muggle brothers. I presume that you went to Millie thinking that she would know about me."
"Found out about that, huh?" Malfoy rasped out.
"Yeah."
"Grandmother Winchester was a waste of time. Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot, here," Malfoy said.
Dean snorted. "Ya think?"
"I've had this information for weeks. I haven't told Joanne. I haven't told a soul, except Astoria. I'm bringing this information to you. Hell, I could have made a lot of money selling this story to the press. But I didn't. I saved their lives! We want the same things, Potter. You want to protect your family and I want to protect mine. I'm sure we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."
"You're blackmailing me," Harry said incredulously.
"I wouldn't…."
"No. This is how this is going to work Malfoy. You are going to tell me what your father got himself on the Men of Letter's radar. Everything – you won't leave a thing out. Then we'll see what can be done. But don't think that you are getting off any easier than an unbreakable vow to keep this quiet. And if you, your father, or your mother steps a toe out of line from now on, I will get all three of you put in Azkaban, where you should have gone in the first place, and I will throw away the key. Do you understand, Malfoy?" From the tone in Potter's voice, it was clear that this was not a negotiation.
Malfoy nodded in agreement, feeling a little queasy. He had overplayed his hand. Astoria would be disappointed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear your answer," Dean said.
"Yes. I understand, Potter."
"Good. Now. What did Lucius do?"
xXxXxXxXxXx
Dean didn't even ask before pouring firewhiskey all around after they had sent Malfoy back to England with a portkey that would land him directly in Percy's office. Sam refused his, scrunching up his nose, but Harry downed his glass, drank Sam's, and then poured himself another.
Sam looked at Harry like he should be passed out on the floor.
"Yeah. His alcohol tolerance is that of at least five hunters," Dean explained. Sam didn't know if he should be impressed or concerned.
"Only five?" Harry asked. "My memory may be fuzzy, but I do believe I outdrank ten non-hunters."
"If you can't remember how many it was, you didn't outdrink them," Dean said smugly. "I won that bet, fair and square. You refuse to pay up."
"Dean, I don't think you could even eat that much apple pie."
"Oh yeah, wanna bet?"
"I think that's what got us into this discussion the first place," Sam interrupted. Harry was acting just like Dean did when he wanted to stall. It would be amusing if they didn't have very important things to talk about. "Are you going to explain what happened here? Who are the Men of Letters? Why exactly did you resign from your job? And what's this about a grandmother that I've never even heard of?"
That felt like a minefield to Harry. "All of this nonsense with Malfoy started that day in the cemetery."
Sam had a sudden flash to memory. Beautiful green scenery, a smirking blonde man that he now recognized as Malfoy, and the smell of fresh dirt. "Ah!" It fucking hurt.
"Sam!" Dean called out.
Sam shook his head. The pain went away as quickly as it came. "Sorry. Just remembering."
Dean glared at Harry. "What the hell man?"
"It's fine, Dean," Sam said. "It was just a flash."
"Wait…does he know?" Harry asked, confused.
"That I was a soulless monster for the last year and a half? Yeah. Cas told me."
"Oh."
"You were just explaining why you resigned from your big, fancy, job?" Dean prompted, hoping that changing the subject would distract Sam from trying to remember anything more.
"Yeah. He saw me do magic in front of you two. He presented the evidence, which was ironclad, to the Ministry and they had no choice but to put me on trial. The sneaky bastard had the paperwork filed quicker than my lawyers could fight it."
"You were fired…because of us?" Dean asked.
"I wasn't fired," Harry explained. "I resigned before it could go to court. Kingsley…the Minister, accepted my resignation with the understanding that it would give my lawyers times to build the case, but I don't intend to return."
"Wait, why was doing magic in front of us illegal?"
"It's illegal to do magic in front of muggles. Even more illegal considering your profession."
"But we're your brothers. Family. Didn't you once say that immediate family is allowed to know about magic?" Sam was sharp. Harry cursed his Hermione-like memory.
"They are. But I would have to reveal our relation to get out of it that way. And I wouldn't dream of it."
Sam bristled. "Are you ashamed of us?"
Harry blinked at him with surprise. "Of course not. How could you think that?"
"He's trying to protect us," Dean explained. "Dude, we fight demons, ghosts, and all other sorts of creepy crawlies. We've gone toe-to-toe with the devil himself, I think we could handle some wand-waving idiots."
Sam felt bad for his assumption as he came to understand what drove Harry to such extreme lengths.
"It's not about you not being able to handle yourselves in a fight," Harry said, annoyed. "I know you can do that. It's about sheer numbers. There are thousands of witches and wizards in the United States alone. Security is a concern, of course, but my main worry is the bloody paparazzi."
"Oh, right," Dean understood now.
"Huh?" Sam was confused. "You think that photographers will what…hurt us?"
"No. I think that they will plague your every living moment. Maybe not forever. But for a while. But you heard Malfoy – it would be the scandal of the century. They will sensationalize the hell out of the story and the first arsehole to get a picture, or even more so, an interview with one of you, well that would be one very rich witch or wizard."
"Alright, fine, we know why you resigned. But why the hell didn't you tell me?" Dean practically yelled.
"Because it doesn't bloody matter," Harry shot back. "Look, I didn't need the job. I was just a political figurehead. I hadn't done anything useful in years. And you hardly needed any more stress in your life."
"Dude, what is family if not people that you can burden with your problems?" Sam asked.
"What he said," Dean agreed.
Harry was stunned. He would have never thought to tell his brothers about his problems. He was pretty sure that if he wasn't helpful enough that they would kick him to the curb in the way that Gabriel seemed so convinced that they would. Burdening them with more than what they dealt with on a daily basis felt completely off limits if he didn't want to lose them.
Dean slapped him on the back. "You're just out of practice. Don't worry, with Sammy around, you'll be whining like a little bitch about every papercut soon enough."
"Hey!" Sam protested.
Harry smiled.
"Now, about our grandmother? When did you meet her?" Dean asked, trying to move them from anything overly emotional as quickly as he could.
A cloud passed over Harry's face. "Well, let me tell you. It's a wonder that Dad turned out as well as he did…"
AN – Alright, I lied. This chapter was about halfway done when I posted last week and I didn't think I'd be able to finish it in time, but inspiration hit, and I was too excited not to post. I think it's a better stopping point than the last one because it kind of wraps up the Soulless-Sam Saga and begins to set up the plot for the remainder of this fic. Plus, I'm super excited for everyone to read the Luna/Cas scene. It's been a long time coming.
If I were to guess, I think about six chapters from the end of this story. I will now (actually) take a short hiatus. I will post the next chapter on May 14th. I'm hoping to finish writing the whole thing by then. Just the thought of taking a break was enough for me to clearly see myself to the end for the first time. I always had an idea of what I wanted to happen, so I've been building towards it, but now I have it fully plotted out.
I have been remiss in the last couple of chapters, but thank you so, so, so much to everyone who reviews and comments. I am writing this story mostly for my own amusement but I don't think that I would have taken it this far without all of the support I've gotten from y'all. Thank you also for all the followers, favoriters, and bookmarkers. I hope that sometime you will have something to say in a review or a comment, but as a serial non-reviewer myself, I understand why you may not. I get almost daily e-mails with someone who has added me to a favorite list or left kudos and it fills my heart with joy.
Next chapter will be out on May 14th.