Chapter 7

12 Grimmauld Place, London, 25th August 2011

"Wow," Sam and Dean said in unison. Remus smiled.

"Do try to keep up," Remus replied as he walked up the worn steps. "I'm just pulling your leg," he added with a smile. "I understand it is a lot." Dean and Sam followed him up the steps. Remus' hand moved toward the snake-shaped door knob and stopped suddenly. He turned to face the brothers.

"Just a warning, you would probably want to be quiet until we get into the dining room," he warned, voice already dropping to a mutter.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"The previous owner of the house grew up here. His mother has a portrait… Let's just say she is very… vocal if she's woken." His expression went from sadness to annoyance as he spoke.

Dean frowned. Woken?

"Some witches and wizards have a painter create a portrait which is hung after their death. The portraits have enchantments. The portrait will act like the deceased did in life. Walburga Black was not a pleasant woman," explained Remus as he noticed both brothers bemused expressions.

Dean whispered to Sam. "And I thought our lives were messed up."

"I know it's strange," Remus allowed. "We would have taken it down, but we can't." He looked very annoyed by that statement. "It's stuck with a charm. We've tried… Merlin knows we have." His expression turned to a scowl. The efforts to clean and put some order back into the house the previous year were long and somewhat successful, but there were still some things that needed to be done. Remus opened the door to a long, dark hallway. Portraits lined the walls, and Sam noticed a particularly large, plum coloured curtain, hanging on the wall.

"We have to keep her covered. It's the only way we get some peace," Remus whispered.

"She still believes it's her house."

They passed the long hallway quietly; Dean made an offhand comment about a haunted house from Scooby-Doo. The house looked very old, at least a hundred years old. Old ornate gas lamps hung on the walls and a large chandelier hung from the ceiling. The wallpaper was peeling slightly at the corners, worn and scratched.

Well, if anywhere would be haunted, this place would be, Sam thought grimly.

"Is that you Remus?" a soft voice sounded from the room at the end of the hall. A short, plump woman came into the hall. She had striking red hair and a kind demeanour.

"Hey Molly," Remus smiled.

"Get washed up for supper. It's almost ready." She looked behind Remus and saw the brothers.

"Hello dears, I'm Molly Weasely. You must be Sam and Dean?"

Sam smiled. "Hello, Mrs Weasley." Dean gave a small smile.

"Come meet the others," Molly smiled. She looked over her shoulder at Remus. "Where is Tonks dear?"

"She got called into the Ministry. Kingsley had to go too. They won't make it tonight."

"Typical, such an important meeting, and they get called in. Oh well, Alastor can fill them in." She seemed to be talking to herself by the end.

"What's for dinner?" Dean smelled appreciative.

"Don't listen to my brother. He eats like an elephant," Sam excused, as Dean shot him a glare. Molly just smiled.

"I understand. I have six boys. They're like wolves." Two red-haired gangly boys appeared in the kitchen, howling like wolves, as if on cue.

"Fred, George! Behave!" she scolded, and they walked back in, snickering. "Just because you're of age now doesn't mean you have to whip your wands out for everything! Come on in Sam, Dean,"

Sam wondered, with a slight ache in his chest, if that would have been how his mother would have raised him and Dean. He looked over to his brother and saw that he had a similar look on his face. The two teens went back to the table with a smirk and sat down. All eyes turned to Sam and Dean as they entered.

"'I remember you." One of the twins looked over to Dean.

"You're the guy from the joke shop today," Dean realized. "Weasley makes sense." He couldn't see them clearly in the hall, with the dimly lit gloominess.

"Just opened this year," the two said simultaneously.

"Awesome," Dean answered.

"Boys," Molly said patiently, looking at her sons. "We have to get to business. We can discuss everything later."

They entered a long room with an obnoxiously long wooden table. Ten people were sitting in the old chairs. They were a variety of ages and sizes, but the most notable was an elderly man who got to his feet as the boys came in. He wore half-moon spectacles balancing on a crooked nose over a long grey beard. He was wearing long maroon coloured robes.

"Sam and Dean Winchester, welcome," he smiled. "Albus Dumbledore," as he shook their hands. That's when both Sam and Dean spotted the hand that was still by his side was blackened and shrivelled, almost as if it was rotting.

"You're Headmaster of Hogwarts?" Dean recalled from the letter. Do we curtsy… bow…? He mused to himself as he smiled at Albus. Dude looks ancient….

"Hello, sir." Sam nodded, unsure what to do as well.

"I am," the man smiled warmly. "It's lovely to meet you both. Thank you for coming to meet us and agreeing to help us. We are in a very dark time in our world."

Dean grunted. "It's dark in our world too." Sam quickly dug his elbow into Dean's ribs.

"I understand, which is why I am so grateful for your help. "Albus didn't seem put out by Dean's words. He isn't reaching for his wand anyway, Dean thought in relief.

"Please feel free to speak your minds here," Albus smiled. "Let's start with some introductions, shall we?" Albus finished cheerily. The boys then turned and looked at the other people. Most of them were red-haired, apparently Molly's children, five boys and a girl. One's missing, Sam noted.

"It's nice to meet you all," Sam replied, diplomatic as ever.

"This is my husband, Arthur, my boys Bill, Charlie, Fred and George, and Ron, and my daughter Ginny." One by one, Molly pointed them out.

"Hey," Dean smiled a little.

"Alastor Moody," a grizzled man spoke. When they looked at him, they were taken aback. One of his eyes was fake, larger than the other, a vivid blue, which was darting around independently of his other normal brown eye. His face was covered in scars, and a chunk of his nose was missing.

Sam nodded, quickly moving past the blue crazy eye.

"Nice to meet you," said Dean in a polite voice. Alastor seemed like a Bobby type of guy. Nothing getting past him didn't take a crap, the whole nine yards.

There was a soft knock on the door. Remus got up and walked into the hallway, out of sight. A few moments later, Minerva entered.

"Hello Sam, Dean. I'm glad you made it here alright. I hope the trip wasn't too strenuous."

"Hey Minerva," Dean replied, not daring to use his 'Minnie' nickname… yet. "We're still getting used to the way you guys travel." He shot a glance at Sam before turning back to Minerva.

"Good to see you, Professor," Molly smiled. "Ron, would you please go and get Harry and Hermione?"

"They're getting things ready in the kitchen."

"Sure Mum," Ron nodded and got up. He walked from the room and turned to go down the hall.

"Harry as in… Harry Potter?" Dean looked to Molly for confirmation.

"Yes, he's just inside," Molly answered. Sam looked up when Ron came back in a few seconds later, followed by a girl with bushy brown hair tied in a slow ponytail.

Harry looked sullen, depressed at being back in this house again, The house that Sirius spent the last year of his life trapped in, unable to leave under Dumbledore's orders. When he came to get Harry at Privet Drive 5 days before, the discussion arose about the ownership of the building. After a quick test involving Kreacher the house-elf, the Order deemed it safe to return to using it as headquarters.

Hermione pulled the hair tie from her hair and wiped the sweat from her brow, blushing when she noticed the others had seen. The last to come in was Harry. He was skinny for his age, they noticed, with round, black-framed glasses in front of piercing green eyes. His hair was jet black and shaggy and Sam could just about see a tiny red line on his forehead under the unruly mess that was his hair. As far as famous people go, this kid seemed pretty ordinary to the hunters. It certainly didn't match the vision Sam had in his head based on the descriptions he read about.

Hermione beamed as she noticed the new Professors in the doorway.

"Hello Professors," she smiled, looking from her Headmaster to Head of House, to the newcomers.

"Just call us Sam and Dean for now," said Dean, friendly. "We're not your teachers yet."

Harry looked over them, his emerald eyes scanning over each one before glancing over at the headmaster. Sam stepped forward and offered his hand to Harry. "You must be Harry. It's nice to meet you."

Harry shook it firmly and stepped back. The two men looked fairly ordinary, Harry thought. He remembered the photos in the Daily Prophet from a few days before. They were a little older now, by just a few years. They looked out of place in the new robes they were wearing. Not used to wizard clothes yet, Harry figured.

"You're shorter than I thought you would be," Dean commented as he shook Harry's hand. Dean and Sam took a seat.

"To be honest, the two of you aren't what we expected either," Ron frowned. Then curiosity lit his features. "Did you kill a guy?!"

Before Sam and Dean could say anything Molly whacked Ron on his hand with a wooden spoon. Ron yelped in pain, earning reproachful looks from Harry and Hermione.

"What?" Sam asked.

"There was an article in the newspaper about you a few days ago. I don't know how it got out," Hermione explained, glaring at her friend. She raised her wand. "Accio Daily Prophet."

A blur of white whizzed through the air and Hermione caught it. She handed the newspaper to Sam, who took a closer look. They scanned through the article, which was below a large, moving picture of Dean and Sam's mugshots.

"It's about St. Louis?" Dean asked. Sam nodded.

"And the mugshots from Arkansas," the younger Winchester frowned. They looked up to all eyes on them.

"We didn't kill anyone," Dean sighed, wanting to set the record straight even if it was annoying. "A few years ago, a shapeshifter took my form and killed someone. It was caught in the act. We had to go into hiding essentially… A few years ago, an army buddy of our Dad's needed help. He was the warden in a prison with a ghost problem.

"We got caught on purpose and sent to his prison to help deal with it. Hence, the pictures," Sam finished.

Harry Hermione and Ron all shared shocked looks.

"Look, hunting requires us to do some things that are not exactly... legal, but it saves lives, so we do it," Dean frowned. "It may not be the wizard way, but it's the Winchester way."

"I understand," Hermione nodded. "The Daily Prophet is utter rubbish anyway. I wouldn't let it worry you." She then muttered under her breath. "I'd rather read the Quibbler at this point…"

"Okay dears, I think that's enough for now. Dinner is ready." Molly interrupted Dean before he could ask about the Quibbler. Dean and Sam watched from their chairs as platters began to float in from the kitchen.

"Cool," Dean said, impressed. His stomach rumbled. "It reminds me of that scene from that one Disney film," he said as he started to fill his plate.

"Disney film?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Shut up…" Dean replied.

The two brothers eat mostly in silence, watching the interactions between the other people at the table. Ron was wolfing down his food, talking to Harry. Hermione was chatting with Ginny. The youngest Weasley kept glancing at them periodically but never spoke to them. Her father was doing much the same but instead of fear, his eyes were filled with wonder at the sight of two muggles, wondering which question he should ask first. Sam was keeping to himself.

"Dragons?" Dean asked, looking at the redhead. "You raise dragons?"

"Yeah, in Romania. I came home to help with the war effort," Charlie explained. His hair was long, a little longer than Sam's.

Sam rolled his eyes. "No Dean."

"You didn't know what I was going to ask!"

"We all knew, "Sam shot back. He looked back to his food, catching sight of Arthur, who looked like he was going to explode from excitement. Sam cleared his throat. "So Mr. Weasley. What do you do at the Ministry?"

"I am the Head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. It's a new division. I confiscate fake protective spells and charmed objects. With You-Know-Who returned, the public is desperate to protect themselves. Some people will take advantage of that."

"Are bogus charms that bad?" Dean asked between mouthfuls.

"They can be," Arthur sighed. "Of course, it depends what spell is put on them, but essentially, they can be deadly."

"Bloody idiots, messing around with things they shouldn't. They should just learn some protective charms. These gimmicks won't help when Death Eaters come knocking," Alastor grumbled. "The Auror office is filled to the brim with complaints."

"Auror?" Dean asked.

"Dark wizard catcher," Arthur explained.

"Also, what is a Death Eater?" Dean asked again.

"It's a name given to You-Know-Who's followers," Remus said. The boys nodded and Sam turned to Arthur.

"You said your department was new," Sam looked back at him. "Are you new to the Ministry?"

"No, I used to be head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office. Sometimes Muggle objects would be tampered with by charms or curses. I would deal with it," His eyes lit up.

"And used to take them home to tinker with…" Molly frowned. "Honestly, you could arrest yourself with the amount of junk you've been 'tinkering' with." She muttered under her breath about a car. The tips of Arthur's ears went pink. Albus was chuckling quietly.

Dean grinned, "And what exactly, were you tinkering with?"

The table erupted in a groan and Dean looked at them curiously before one of the Weasley twins nudged him. "Tried to warn you, mate."

"It's fascinating! It's called a walkperson! It runs on elektricity, and you can play music with it! I think I broke some red things inside, so it doesn't work any more," Arthur gushed

"Do you mean a Walkman?" Sam asked.

"Arthur has a fondness for Muggle objects," Molly explained. "He likes to see how these things work.

"I can see why…" Dean nodded as a plate of chicken whizzed through the air past him. "Your world is a bit mind-boggling too."

"Yeah. Minerva was explaining a bunch of things to us back in Diagon Alley," Sam replied, looking down the table to see Minerva talking quietly with Albus.

"Actually," Dean began. I don't know if there's a way to do this, but is there a way to get our phones to work?"

"Remember what I was talking to you about back in July, Arthur," Minerva spoke up when Arthur looked confused.

"Ah right, yes. Your communication devices. May I see them for a moment?"

"Sure," Sam replied. Dean gave his phone to him and Sam passed them to Arthur. He beamed as he looked over the devices. "They really are quite fascinating, aren't they? And so compact..."

"Focus Arthur." Molly reminded him with a smile "I'll take a look at them for you. I'm not sure yet, but I can give it a try."

"Awesome, thanks." Dean nodded.

"Professors… I mean Sam and Dean," Hermione spoke up. "What's it like living in America?"

Dean shrugged before answering. "I guess the same as it is over here. Though the magic in our world is slightly more threatening. There's more bad magic out there than good. And it always seems to come with a price. I guess you guys are all over the world, but the witches we meet are mostly evil."

Minerva spoke up then, "I have been doing some research in that area, Mr Winchester. It seems that the witches and warlocks you have encountered may have inert magical qualities like we possess. I believe you would call them Wiccans. However, some of them had their abilities bestowed upon them by a demon in exchange for their souls."

"Yeah, that's usually how it goes," Dean nodded. "The witches we meet probably are more similar to Wiccans. They practice with hexes a lot… cat skulls, hex bags, that sort of stuff. It's disgusting."

Hermione nodded, reminding Dean of how Sam acted when they were interrogating witnesses. She must be a booky type, Dean figured.

"Ew," Ron frowned.

"Where do you live?" Harry asked, having been very quiet up until this point.

"Not anywhere. We just move around. Motels mostly," Sam replied.

"Sleeping in cars is also fun…" Dean added sarcastically. He shrugged. "We're used to it

Molly patted her chest lightly, "Oh you poor boys. Living homeless…"

Sam and Dean looked a little uncomfortable at her pity but shrugged it off. They understood her point of view, but in reality, the Impala was the best home they'd ever known.

"Do you have a place to stay during winter break?" Arthur asked quickly, an idea already forming in his head.

"Just stay at the school I guess," Dean replied.

"Oh, the school can be so drafty…" Molly sent another plate whizzing by.

Ron cut in. "Most of the kids stay behind mom. It's not that bad."

"Besides, those jumpers you knit keep little Ronniekins warm and toasty." One of the twins sniggered.

"Shut up!" Ron glared at the offending twin. Fred or George, Dean wasn't sure.
"Thanks for the offer, But I'm not sure what we'll be doing. We might go back to America for the holidays," Sam explained.

"Yeah, we might check on our friend Bobby," Dean said. "Make sure he hasn't eaten a damn bullet." The last part was under his breath to Sam, who nodded.
"So, what exactly will we be learning about in your classes?" Harry spoke after adjusting his glasses. The other children, as well as the adults, turned to look at the Winchester's apart from Albus who became very interested in his teacup.

"We're still working that out," Sam told him. "We're trying to figure out the best way to structure the lessons. You'll be learning about the things we hunt."

"It's not just demons." Dean continued. There are wendigos, vengeful spirits, even some deities. You'll learn all about those later."

"You don't want to be too far ahead of your classmates," Sam grinned.

Harry nodded in understanding.

Remus sat up and eyed the three kids before addressing Sam and Dean. "I enjoyed my time teaching at Hogwarts. I'm sure you will too."

"I taught Defence Against the Dark Arts for a year," Remus told them. "Unfortunately, I had to leave for family reasons after that."

"He was the best teacher we've ever had. No offence Professor." Ron grinned sheepishly at Minerva. Molly began to gather the plates.

"Let me help Mrs Weasley," Sam offered.

"Sit down Sam, it's alright" Molly smiled and flicked her wand. The plates rose and stacked themselves, floating toward the kitchen.

Albus stood, causing the rest of the table to quieten down. "I suppose we should get the meeting started. There was a sudden tenseness in the air.

"Of course Albus. You four, up to bed" Molly immediately rounded on Hermione, Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

"Mum!" Ron protested.

"You know the Order meetings are only for those of age," Molly cut him off sternly before he could say any more.

"Molly, we need to let them stay, "said Albus calmly. "I know you are worried. But think of everything they've done in the past year. They are capable of this. Dumbledore's Army was very successful." He threw a wink to Harry, a twinkle in his blue eyes. Harry smiled at his praise.

"They are still children, my children!" Molly hissed as she fussed over the dishes while trying to get the chairs moved back into the meeting room. Molly lost her concentration on the spell as she worried over what the children could hear. A loud crash drew everyone's attention to the mess of glass on the floor.

"Oh no…" She looked up in horror and before Sam could go help her clean up the broken pieces, an ear-splitting scream pierced the air.