Love, Fate and Prophecy: Bloodright
Part Four Chapter 18 – Almost Gone
Season 6 – Episode 18 (Frontierland)
Crowley was arm deep into a dead creature when he noticed a presence casually leaning against the doorframe of his laboratory.
"I heard you were working with Castiel, I never imagined that you'd've become his errand boy," he remarked.
"And I never thought that you'd become his side piece, but here we are," Gabriel responded. "I am not here for Castiel. We're long overdue for a talk, you and I."
Crowley moved over to the sink to wash off his blood-soaked arm.
"I can't imagine what it is you could possibly want to talk to little ole' me about." He was doing a good job of keeping his composure, but Gabriel could see that his mind was working in hyperdrive trying to figure out what the archangel could want with him.
"Many things. But first, Lucius Malfoy."
Crowley froze. "Who…"
"Don't pretend, Crowley. You think a filthy demon such as yourself could get near one of my people and I wouldn't know about it? You've got a pair on you – I have to give you that. Seeing as the fate that has met every other demon that has tried to make a deal with a wizard."
"That was you?" Crowley asked, his heart racing. Well, it would be, if he had a working one. This literary agent he possessed had been dead for a long time. Crossroad demons were rarely given any real training, but the one rule that they all knew was that to approach a wizard was death. Without fail. Crowley thought it was just an old demon tale, especially after nothing had happened after his last little foray into the wizarding world.
"Yeah. Me. They are off-limits."
"He summoned me," Crowley defensively.
"He did. But you offered him a deal."
Crowley scowled. "Might've, but as you know we were prevented from sealing it. No harm, no foul."
"What did he want?"
"Nothing sexy. It was rather mundane for a wizard. He wanted his family's reputation and fortune restored. Living in obscurity with no power or influence is driving him mad."
"And what did he offer you? You know that wizard souls cannot go to Hell. So, what could he possibly have that you wanted?"
"I don't only deal in souls, you know," Crowley responded, avoiding the question. It told Gabriel everything that he needed to know.
"You know Crowley if you weren't a bottom-feeding mouth-breather, I might like you. You're smart. Smarter than Castiel gives you credit for, at least."
Crowley scoffed. "Castiel is a few beads short of a rosary if you catch my meaning. But he has his uses."
"He does. And so do you, which is why I'm here."
Crowley moved onto another creature that he had tied down to a gurney while they talked. "So, you'd like to make a deal." This was ground that he was more comfortable with.
Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "You could call it that if you'd like. I'm not going to beat around the bush here – I know that you're going after purgatory. More specifically, the souls in purgatory."
"That was meant to be between Cas and me."
"Well, it's not anymore. Don't worry, I don't care. Castiel is going to do what he's gotta do. He has proven himself to be an…unreliable ally as of late." Crowley's silence told Gabriel everything that he needed to know. The demon questioned Castiel as well. "Planning isn't my brand, but I know that it's yours, and I would like to have a backup."
"And I'm your Plan B? Mate, what's stopping me from going straight to Cas and telling him about this little conversation?"
Gabriel laughed. "Don't flatter yourself, you are my Plan G or H. Nothing is stopping you from going to Castiel with this, but I have a feeling that you won't. You're too intrigued. And too invested in your own survival."
Gabriel waited.
"Bollocks," Crowley said. "You're right. What did you have in mind?"
Gabriel smiled.
xXxXxXxXxXx
Harry decided that Dean was having way too much fun. From the outfits to the references to characters from Western movies that Harry did not understand to the silly grin on his face. Granted, all these things were particularly grating because Castiel had taken all of the alcohol off of him before they went on this trip. So, he had to suffer through all of this sober. And the 1860s stunk. Literally. He had cast several charms to get rid of the smell of the people around him.
Things were beginning to look up though when the sheriff suggested that they visit the saloon.
The three of them entered through the classic swinging doors and looked around. It was…dirty. There was a drunk passed out at a table and some very unclean women standing in the corner.
"This is not awesome," Dean said to his brothers. Sam was deeply amused and took the lead in approaching the bar.
"Hi," he said to the bartender.
"What'll you have?" he asked.
"Oh, uh, ok," Dean said. "Great. I'll have your top-shelf whiskey."
"Only have the one shelf," the bartender responded.
"That'll do just fine." He pointed to Harry and Sam. "And they'll have sarsaparilla."
"But…" Harry started. Both of his brothers glared at him, so he shut up, for now. But this was getting old, quick.
"You Elkins?" Sam asked.
"One and only," the bartender responded.
"You know a man named Samuel Colt?" Dean asked him.
"He passed through here about four years ago."
"He still around?"
"Rumor is, he's building a railroad stop twenty miles out of town, just by the postal road. Middle of nowhere."
Understanding dawned on Sam's face. "The Devil's Gate?" he whispered to Dean.
"Location fits," Dean responded. Harry was going to ask what the Devil's Gate was when one of the women approached them.
"Howdy, boys," she said, looking Dean, in particular up and down.
"Darla's my best girl," Elkins told them.
"Try me. You want a kiss?" She asked in a voice that Harry supposed she thought was seductive but looking at her teeth and the obvious sexually transmitted disease all over her face, it did not have the desired effect. Except to make him very amused at Dean's discomfort.
"S-so much germier than I pictured," he said, leaning away as the woman leaned in.
"Darla!" The judge from earlier walked into the bar, calling out to the woman who was still attempting to attract the eldest Winchester.
"Ah. Judge. Nice to see you," she said.
"I thought we had a date," he said, indicating to the stairs. She reluctantly nodded her head and went up the stairs with the old man. Harry felt bad for her.
"Wow, that was a close one," Dean said, visibly relieved.
"I guess it's good to be judge," Sam said.
"Yeah," Dean took a sip of the whiskey that Elkins had set in front of him. He spat it out on the floor. "Ohh. It's like gasoline," he said making a face.
"Perfect, I'll just take that then," Harry said, grabbing the shot glass and knocking it back in one fluid movement. It did not taste great but it was a great deal stronger than normal muggle whiskey. "I'll take another," he said, tapping the glass.
"Harry…" Sam started. "I thought you had agreed to not drink during this trip."
Harry snorted. "I did no such thing. I didn't fight Castiel when he took my ambrosia. This will hardly do the trick anyway. Just takes the edge off."
Dean looked like he had something to say about that when they heard a scream upstairs. The three of them ran upstairs, weapons out. They burst into the bedroom to see Darla, much more scantily clad in the corner and a steaming pile of bones on the bed. Harry presumed that was the judge.
"It was a ghost!" Darla insisted when the sheriff got there.
"It wasn't a ghost," the sheriff responded, annoyed. "Unless ghosts leave footprints." Several dark footprints lead to the balcony of the room.
"I am telling you, Elias Finch was here. He did…that, and then he walked out that door."
"Wasn't Elias Finch that guy we saw hung earlier?" Harry asked.
"Rope didn't kill him," the sheriff explained. "Seen it before."
"Well, you got any idea where he could be?"
"Could be a thousand places."
"Well, you got a way to flush him out?"
"' Course. We're gonna form a posse. Then we're gonna string Finch upright. Put a bullet in his head for good measure."
"That actually sounds like a good plan."
"You three should come along. Meet downstairs at dawn."
"Yeah, we'll be there," Dean agreed.
"Get yourselves some real gear first, huh?"
"Well, I think that we ought to pay our respects to Finch," Dean said to Sam and Harry.
"I was thinking the same thing," Sam said.
Harry had been thinking of getting another couple shots of whiskey but didn't say anything. He was also thinking that a couple of spells may help them fit in a bit better.
Before they went to the cemetery, Harry had a thought. "Where are we gonna stay tonight?" he asked. "It's not like there's a Motel 6 here."
"I figured we'd just stay in the Saloon," Sam said.
Harry scrunched his face up. "And take bed bugs back to Bobby's? He'd kill us. And then Ellen would resurrect us again to kill us again."
"You got a better plan?" Dean asked.
"Yeah. I got a tent."
"A tent," Dean said, unbelieving. "Where?"
Harry pulled out his (more manly) replica bag of the one Hermione had carried with her the year that they had been hunting horcruxes. He then put his hands on his brother's shoulders and flew them about a mile out of town. With a few flicks of his wandblade, he got it all set up.
"Uh, Harry," Sam said, looking at the tent's size with trepidation. "That gonna sleep all three of us?"
Harry grinned. "I dunno, why don't you go look inside and let me know."
Sam gave him a questioning look but went inside as instructed. "Dude!" They heard him call out. He stuck his head out of the front flap. "Dean, you've got to see this."
Dean shrugged and went in. "Woah," he said as he entered. It was unlike any kind of tent he had ever seen before. There was a small kitchen, including a stove and a table, as well as a living room and several bedrooms that held beds that looked more comfortable than just about any he had ever slept in.
Harry joined them. "Think it'll work?"
"Dude, this is awesome. How is this possible? This is nicer than most motel rooms we stay in."
"Magic, of course. This one is similar to the one that I used camping with my friends during the war. This one is better though – it doesn't smell of cats."
"Man, if we had had this growing up…can you imagine, Dean? No nights all squished together in the Impala. Separate rooms."
Harry's heart sank. Another reminder of how he could have helped if he had only come back earlier. Although imagining John willingly camping in a magical tent was a little difficult. He remembered when Dad had taken James and Albus camping he had insisted…Harry shook his head. No need to try to remember that.
"You alright, Harry?" Sam asked, noticing the change in demeanor.
"Huh? Yeah. Just thinking that Dad wouldn't have liked it much."
"Dude, there's a refrigerator. I think Dad would have gotten over it," Dean said. "At very least, Sammy would have insisted that we stay here. Wait…is this a full bathroom?"
"One of them," Harry said.
"TWO bathrooms?! That's it. We're taking this with us everywhere. Never sharing with Sam ever again."
That did lighten Harry's mood a little. He made a quick meal with what the kitchen was pre-stocked with (which he probably shouldn't have brought back in time with them) and then the three of them headed off to the cemetery, prepared to dig up this Elias Finch.
The grave was already dug up with nobody inside.
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Sam asked.
"Rose from the ashes, burned up its victim? You know, maybe we're not looking for a flaming bird. Maybe the Pheonix is actually walking around in cowboy boots."
"Like the dragon," Harry added.
"That makes sense, right? Could be Finch. So, question is, how do we put this thing out?"
"Well, we do know one thing that'll kill friggin' anything, right?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, the Colt," Sam said at the same time that Harry said, "A killing curse should do the trick."
His brothers stared at him.
"Will that work against a supernatural creature?" Sam asked. They had never really talked about the mechanics of the curse. He just knew that Harry didn't like using it.
Harry shrugged. "It should."
"Would it work against an angel?" Dean wanted to know.
Harry thought about that. "Probably not, but I honestly never thought of it. But I should ask Gabriel."
"And you think he'd tell you the truth?"
"Yeah. He said that he wouldn't lie to me anymore."
Dean snorted.
"You do realize that he's a trickster, right? He can't be trusted," Sam insisted for about the millionth time.
Harry ignored him.
Dean cleared his throat. "The Colt will work. Why don't you and Sam go get the gun?"
"But isn't the gun coming here?" Sam asked. "I mean, according to Samuel Colt's journal?"
"Yeah, but people here barely even know who Colt is. Maybe you got to go find him and make history. I'll stay here, hook up with the posse. 'Cause you know me – I'm a posse magnet. I mean it, I love posse. Make that into a t-shirt."
Sam groaned. "You done? Look, the problem is, Colt's twenty miles outside of town. How am I supposed to get there and back before noon?"
Harry raised his hand.
"Oh. Right. Magical brother."
"Want to go now?"
Sam and Dean exchanged a look.
"It's the middle of the night. I'm feeling pretty tired, aren't you Dean?" Sam asked, looking at Dean meaningfully.
"No," he noticed the look. "I mean yes, very tired. I think we should all get a couple of hours of sleep. Since we have that nice tent and all."
"Subtle. Real subtle," Harry said. "We ride at dawn?"
Dean grinned. "Damn right we do."
xXxXxXxXxXx
Harry flew them about a half-mile away from where Colt's cabin was. From what he had briefly heard the day before, this man was paranoid, and he wanted to be sure that they were able to handle any wards that they came across. Unfortunately, Sam decided that the ten-minute walk would be an ideal time to have a heart-to-heart.
"You know, Harry, if there is anything you'd like to talk about, Dean and I will listen."
"What makes you think that there is something I'd like to talk about?" Harry asked, warily.
"Dude, I saw what happened when you dropped your glamour. Look, I know that Dean and I aren't exactly the pictures of perfect mental and physical health, but that…"
"I've always been skinny," Harry pointed out.
"Yeah, but there is skinny and then there is…whatever the hell you are."
"It's not purposeful, you know," Harry said, awkwardly. "I just don't think to eat. I grew up on small rations, I guess I just don't notice if I haven't eaten in a while."
That did nothing to allay Sam's concerns. "…do you want to talk about your childhood?"
Harry gave a bark of a laugh. "Absolutely not."
"I know that Dad was concerned about your relatives. Dean too. But since I was a kid, they never really said anything to me."
"Trust me, my mind healer and I have spent hours on the Dursleys. They're just not worth it."
"You go to therapy?"
"I mean, not recently. It's not exactly easy to find a mind healer that could handle my particular set of problems. It had to be a witch or wizard, of course, but that was a problem too because I'm such a public figure, discretion was really important. It doesn't matter, Ginny made it is a requirement of us staying together ages ago." Harry wished that Ginny had just dumped him instead of being determined to stick by his side. Then she may have had an actual happy life, instead of being stuck with a deadweight like him.
"Yeah. I went with Jess. Once or twice." Sam had never admitted that to anyone.
"Did it help?"
Sam shrugged. "I think so. But it's not like I could be completely honest. There aren't therapists that specialize in people brought up as hunters."
"I know that you didn't feel like you always fit in with Dean and Dad," Harry said, cleverly flipping the script on Sam.
"I didn't. I always wanted more, you know? It's not that I didn't see the value in helping people, I just thought, with a law degree I'd be able to help them differently."
"Do you think you'll ever stop hunting?"
Sam shook his head. "Unless we're somehow able to get rid of all monsters, I don't see how it could be possible."
That comment was like a punch in Harry's gut. But before he could respond to that, they arrived at the house. It looked abandoned on the outside.
"Uh – maybe let me do the talking?" Sam said to Harry. "It's strange enough for me to be out here, I can't imagine what he'll think of a British man."
The door was closed, but not locked. Sam stuck his head inside. "Hello?" He asked into what looked to be an empty cabin. He gave Harry a nod and they both entered.
They were immediately met with water being slung at them.
"Ok, we're not demons! Not demons. Just – just hunters. Sheesh."
That was the first time that Sam had referred to Harry as a hunter. He liked it.
"You're what then?"
"You Samuel Colt? My name is Sam Winchester – this is my brother, Harry. We're hunters from the year 2011."
Colt gave them a look up and down. "He ain't no hunter," he said looking specifically at Harry. "Why should I believe anything you just said?"
"How would you know he's not a hunter?" Sam asked, surprised and curious.
Colt snorted. "You think I don't know a wizard when I see one? What kind of fool do you take me for?"
"I am a wizard," Harry finally spoke up. "But I am also a hunter."
"No such thing. Your type is way too hoity-toity for hunters. Ain't never seen one of you get your hands dirty. Plus, if he's your brother, why is his accent different?"
Harry and Sam exchanged looks. "It's a long story," Sam said. "But he is my brother. And a wizard. He was just raised in a different place than me."
Colt gave them a long, hard look. "So, it's true."
"What's true?" Sam asked.
"Wizards takin' away hunter's babies. Guess I owe Craig an apology. Prove to me you're from the future."
Harry was at a complete loss. Sam wasn't, though, he pulled out his cell phone and handed it over to Colt, being sure to turn it on. Colt looked at it and then goes back to his desk.
"All right," he said, as he put the phone down.
"A-all right? That's – uh, that's it?"
"Well, when you've done this job as long as I have…a giant claiming to have a wizard brother with some magic brick doesn't exactly give you the vapors."
"We need your help killing a Phoenix."
Colt raised an eyebrow. "I'd think magic would take care of that. I've never heard of such a creature."
"Well, you shoot one in about three hours."
"If you say so."
"I don't. You do." Sam handed the journal they had found in the Campbell library over to Colt. Colt looks at the notebook and then at the one sitting on his desk that is identical.
"That's…I'm either too drunk or not drunk enough. So, what is it that I'm about to exactly do?"
"The answer is always not drunk enough," Harry said. Sam glared.
"The Phoenix is in Sunrise, so, uh, if we leave now, you can – "
"I appreciate your situation, but I'm not gonna be of any help to you. I'm booked."
"Well, that's where I come in handy," Harry pipped in. "I can apparate us to Sunrise, you can shoot it, and I can bring you right back. Instantaneous travel."
"If you think I'm going to let you get near enough to me to get me anything, you've got another thing coming, boy. I know how to deal with your kind."
"Hey, don't threaten him," Sam said, "you say in this journal that you would there. Right here…"
"Don't believe everything that you read," Colt responded, not taking his eyes off of Harry. Harry was confident that he could take him.
"But you're a hunter."
"Retired."
"There's no such thing."
"I'm out."
"There is no getting out," Sam frowned. "Look, for what it's worth, in my time, you're a hero."
"Me?"
"Yes."
Colt laughed like that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.
"Now, look, we – we need to kill this Phoenix. Its ashes are the only thing that can kill the monster I'm hunting. So, stow your crap for a few hours, and let's go. We got to go now. So, either you're coming with us, or I need the gun."
"What gun?" Colt asked a complete look of innocence on his face.
"The gun," Sam said.
"Oh. That gun. I lost it in a game of Stud."
"You're lying."
"Am I?" the man laughed again. "Now, that doesn't sound like me." Harry was beginning not to like this so-called "hunter hero."
"You shot a couple of demons with it less than an hour ago," Sam accused.
"How do you figure?"
Sam took a deep breath. It had been a long time since a hunter had tested him in this way. He was a fucking Winchester. "Two pairs of boot prints. Cabin reeks of sulfur."
Colt nodded. "Not bad." He opened his jacket so that Sam could see the colt in his holster. "I won't talk to you about it with that in the room though."
The venom in the old hunter's voice surprised both Harry and Sam.
"He's my brother," Sam said, standing defensively in front of Harry. "Anything you say to me, you can say to me."
Colt just looked at him.
"It's fine, Sam, I can step outside." Harry didn't really care if this hunter didn't like him. As long as he gave Sam the gun, it made no difference to him. If talking failed, he could just summon it, anyway. But he didn't want to risk Sam getting caught in any crossfire.
"Don't you just loiter, either. I want you gone."
Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I'll take a walk then." Sam nodded, although he wasn't very pleased. "Since you know about wizards you know that I can kill you with a single spell, you better not hurt a hair on his head," Harry said threateningly to Colt. He turned and went out the door.
Harry wandered aimlessly. It was beautiful here – wide open skies with majestic mountains all around. He wasn't concerned about going too far. Flying back to Sam wouldn't be a problem, so he thought he might as well explore a bit while sipping on his flask that he had snuck out of the bar in town. The whiskey wasn't as good as the stuff Gabriel had him drinking, but it was better than nothing.
He hadn't walked more than two miles away when he heard a galloping in the distance. Before he knew it, a small band of Native Americans had arrived and halted in front of him. One of them jumped off his horse and strode forward. He was an imposing figure – taller than Harry and held himself as someone with authority. But that was not what was most interesting about him. He was a wizard. Harry could see his wand latched in a holster attached to his wrist.
"Haáahe," the man said.
"Hello," Harry responded. He cast a quick translation spell. The other wizard recognized that immediately and cast one of his own with the most interesting looking wand Harry had ever seen (outside of his own wandblade, of course). It was made of wood but seemed to be intricately carved with animals and plants that had a motion of their own. If it weren't considered highly rude and dangerous, Harry might have asked to hold it.
"I am Congresswizard Woqini of the Sutaio. You passed through our wards that alerted us to the presence of another magic-user. This area is dangerous for our kind. We came to warn you."
Harry's eyes widened. His American history was not strong, but he remembered being awake at the beginning of a lecture given by Professor Binns about how MACUSA was formed with elected officials from the wizarding communities that already existed. In his former role as Head Auror, he had learned the proper diplomatic terms to use for those members of government.
"Nice to meet you Representative Woqini, my name is Harry, I'm from the United Kingdom, here visiting family," it was not a lie. "Why have you warded this area? What makes it dangerous?"
"Welcome, Harry. There is a man that lives not far from here who hates our kind and he has…" Woqini used a word that did not translate into English. Woqini noticed. "He hunts," he tried instead. "He has harmed members of our community in the past. You are lucky that we were passing by today to warn you."
Harry frowned. "Are you talking about Samuel Colt?"
All the men reacted strongly to that name. Must be him then.
"Yes. If you come with us, we can take you to our shelter nearby and tell you what this man has done to magic kind. He isn't natural, this man, he can hurt us in ways that no one else can."
That got Harry's heart racing. "I left my brother with him. Thank you for the warning, Woqini, I have to get back to him."
"Wait!" he shouted as Harry turned to go. "It's not safe. We can go with you to retrieve your brother."
Harry shook his head. "It'll be fine."
"You don't know what this man is capable of."
"I know. But he doesn't know what I'm capable of either."
"I sense your power. But be careful, Harry. Come to our settlement with your brother after you have retrieved him, we will check to be sure that the Hunter hasn't done anything to hurt him. We know of his methods and have the potions that can counter what he does. Your brother could be in grave danger if we don't get to him quickly." Woqini did a quick bit of legilimency that Harry had not experienced before but told him where to find the settlement.
Harry nodded and flew directly back to the front porch, almost directly on top of Sam, who had just exited. "Sammy, thank Merlin," Harry said.
"Harry…what…"
Harry didn't give him a chance to finish asking the question before he put his hand on his shoulder and took them to just outside of Woqini's settlement. Harry turned to face Sam and put his hand on both shoulders and started examining him. "Are you ok? Did he hurt you? Dean is going to kill me."
"Woah, woah, calm down. What's going on? I'm totally fine – it's only been about half an hour since you last saw me."
Harry cast a bunch of diagnostic charms on Sam and only let out a sigh of relief when they all came back negative.
"I got the gun, too. What's going on?"
Harry quickly told him what Woqini had told him. By the time he was done with the summary, the man himself had apparated to where they were standing. They were too far away for the horses to have been able to make it back in that amount of time.
"This is your brother?" Woqini asked.
"Yes. His name is Sam."
Woqini frowned. "What is wrong with him?"
Sam bristled. Harry realized that he hadn't cast the translation spell on Sam and quickly corrected it so that he could understand more than the body language coming from the native man.
"I did some diagnostic charms on him, but I'm not a healer, so I missed something. What are you sensing?"
"His magic – it's almost gone."
Harry sighed in relief. "Oh, he's a squib. He's not magical."
Woqini's frown deepened. "That's not true. May I?" He lifted his wand.
"You can – but no mind magic," Harry said, remembering Death's warning about the wall that he put up in Sam's mind.
"Of course not," he agreed.
Harry was possibly too trusting, but he was pretty sure that he could protect Sam from any offensive magic that came his way. He nodded, giving permission. Sam looked a little freaked out, but not overly concerned. "I am trained in the ways of a healer and have a particular affinity for the magic and medicine of warriors," he said as he performed a long list of spells in a language that Harry did not recognize.
"Please come with me, into the settlement," Woqini said.
"Harry, the clock is ticking," Sam said, impatient, if not curious. "We've got to get back to Sunrise before noon."
"I know. It'll be fine, Sam." Harry had a feeling that this was too important to skip the opportunity to learn more. He had had his suspicions about Sam for a while now. He had been planning on having Luna take a look at him, but he had never had the chance.
The settlement was incredible. It was utterly unlike the portrayal shown in the Western movies that Harry had caught glimpses of on the Dursley's tv set as a child. It more closely resembled the camping ground from the Quidditch World Cup he had attended before his fourth year. And it felt like…home. Like Hogwarts or Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. This was a magical place for magical people. It was a bustling morning. Harry could see magic being performed casually everywhere, from clothes being washed to what appeared to be a class sitting in a circle. He was surprised to see that the children that were there were wearing cranberry and blue – the colors of Ilvermorny. While there was a large contingent of the students that looked like they belonged to this tribe, there were also children from all other races.
Woqini noticed him observing the children. "We appear to be about the same age, but I do not recall seeing you at school. Were you homeschooled?"
"No. I went to Hogwarts," Harry explained. "Are those students from Ilvermorny?"
"They are. Many of our children attend Ilvermorny. Some go as day students while others board at the school during the term. Of course, some children learn better here with their families. Each community has their specialties so each year of schooling is assigned one magical community and they come to that settlement for instruction once a week. This also allows the children that chose home school a connection to the country-wide community of witches and wizards."
Harry was impressed. He wondered if Ilvermorny still functioned in that way. He knew that they accepted squibs and students who may only have a strong proficiency in a very specific type of magic and completely incapable of other, more traditional, spell work. He wanted to ask more questions, if only for the sake of Hermione, but Sam was giving him a look of great annoyance. "Right. What did you mean when you said that Sam had magic?"
"This man – your brother, you said? You would expect him to be magical, wouldn't you?"
"Our father was a squib and our mother was a muggle," Harry said, skipping the more complicated explanation.
"His magic…I've never seen anything like it. It was bound and later corrupted and mostly destroyed. Only a small amount remains."
"What do you mean, bound?" Sam asked.
"Your magical core – it was bound inside you, so you couldn't access it. The bindings remain, I can see the scars they created. But later, not much later, the core was corrupted to the point of being damaged beyond repair."
"I'm a wizard?"
Woqini looked surprised. "You were meant to be. Someone, or more likely, something cruelly took that away from you when you were very young. I am sorry."
Sam's head was going a million miles a minute. How could this be possible? Wouldn't he have been taken away like Harry was?
"Can you fix him?" Harry asked, somewhat desperately. He could not imagine being told that he was magical only to have it all taken away from him.
"He said damaged beyond repair, Harry," Sam said, still trying to process this all.
"I would not know where to start but with some considerable study and time, we might find a way to heal him. He will never be at full power."
"Time isn't something we have," Harry said unhappily. "We must be going," he said looking down at his watch. "Thank you, Woqini."
"You're welcome. If you change your mind, you would be welcome back to our settlement. Your brother as well."
Harry nodded and flew them back to right outside of town.
"Are you alright, Sam?" he asked, seeing how upset his brother looked.
"I'll be fine," he said, setting his jaw. "Could you…could we…not tell Dean about this?"
"Why?"
"It wouldn't change anything. I just…I need to wrap my head around it all."
"Alright. We'll hold off telling him. It's not my news to share, in any case."
Sam just nodded.
xXxXxXxXxXx
They arrived to find Dean ducking behind a building, gun out.
"Dean!" Sam called out to get his brother's attention.
"Hey, where's Colt?" Dean asked when his brothers got up to him.
"He's not coming," Sam said.
"What?"
"But he sent this," Sam handed Dean the Colt.
"Ohh. Hello, beautiful," Dean said examining the gun with admiration. Harry did not understand his brother's connection to this particular gun.
"All right," Sam said, impatient to keep things moving.
"Come on," Dean said. He started walking onto the main road. "Get out here, Finch!" he yelled.
"What are you doing?" Sam demanded, alarmed from the side of the building Dean had just been hiding behind.
Harry put a hand on Sam's arm. "I've cast the ward to protect him from gunshots."
"Yeah, well, what if someone pulls out a knife?" Sam snapped. Harry flinched but didn't respond.
"Come on!" Dean yelled from the street. "Let's do this!"
"So, this is how you want to die. Fine," Elias, the Pheonix, responded as he walked into the road and faced Dean.
Both men aimed – but Dean was the better shot. The bullet hit Elias and he collapsed, before burning up and turning to ash.
"Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker," Dean said at the same time.
The clock struck noon – the time that Castiel was supposed to arrive to take them back to their own time.
"Dean! The ashes!" Sam called out. As his brothers ran to gather the ashes on the ground, Harry was quicker and summoned the ashes into the glass bottle he had conjured, more were headed towards him when he found himself suddenly transported to Bobby's living room.
Ashes fell everywhere.
Dean turned desperately to Castiel. "You gotta send us back."
"Dean, look at him. He's fried."
"And I've got the ashes right here," Harry said.
Everyone looked at him with wonderment.
"I love magic," Dean said. Harry gave Sam a look. "Bobby, you – " Dean addressed the older man, whom he had just realized was looking a little worse for wear.
"I'm still kickin', Annie Oakley. Be good as new in…a decade or two. Why don't you idjit sweep up this mess you made in here?"
"Of course, Bobby," Sam said.
There was a knock on the door. Sam answered it while Harry magically gathered the ashes that had spread throughout the living room.
"Is there a Sam Winchester here?" a postman asked when the door was opened.
"Who's asking?"
"Look, this is nuts – me and a couple guys made a bet. So…this thing's been laying around the office since…ever? Uh, with a note on it saying to bring it here today. It's from a-a Samuel Colt?"
Sam looked down at the package with surprise. "Yeah. Yeah, that's time. Great. Thanks." He grabbed the package and shut the door in the courier's face. He brought the package into the living room where everyone else still was and opened it. There was a letter on top.
"Dear Sam," Sam read out loud. "I got this address and date off your thingamajig, and I thought the enclosed might come in handy. Regards, Samuel Colt." What he didn't read to everyone was the PS at the bottom. It read, "As discussed look in the lining for how to deal with the wizard when he shows his true colors."
Dean grinned at the ashes. Now they had three bottles full.
"You know what this means?" he asked.
"Yeah," Bobby replied, "I didn't get a 'soulonoscopy' for nothing."
"Yes. And…it means we take the fight to her."
AN – Crowley's back! I've missed him, have you? I don't think we ever got a Crowley/Gabriel scene in the show, but they are an interesting duo. I had a talk with my DM about them, and we decided that, ultimately, they are both end up being chaotic neutral. At this point in the series though, I think Crowley is chaotic evil.
Woqini (Woo-ka-nay) is loosely based on a real historic figure that would have lived in Wyoming in this time period. I was very nervous and hesitant to add this character in because I want to be as respectful as possible of a culture that I am not a part of and has, historically, been badly represented. I spent a couple of hours reading as much as I could about the people what would have lived in the area of Sunrise in the 1860s, which I know barely scrapes the surface. I wanted to be particularly careful around the subject of boarding schools, but I want to make it clear, in this case, that all magical communities contributed to the curriculum at Ilvermorny and no one is forced to attend.
I've known from the beginning that Sam had his magic stolen from him. There have been little hints along the way – but a lot of careful editing went in to trying to keep it subtle. No one has said anything to me, but I hope y'all noticed. This is something that will be more explored in my very unplanned threequel, but I wanted to go ahead and plant the seeds now. There is a lot more to both that AND to Colt's knowledge of wizards, which will not be relevant to the end of this story, but I plan to use in the future. (Got to do something to keep things interesting, right?)
Thank you all for all the thoughtful reviews and comments. I love reading what y'all have read into my writing that I did not mean to put there, but you are totally right about.
I will be out switching up my posting day soon, as I will be going back to the office. I'm working remotely on Mondays and Tuesdays so it will be one of those two days. The next update is going to come the week AFTER the 4th of July because I will be out of computer range for a bit, but never fear, I will be back on either the 12th or 13th!