Disclaimer: SN and HP belong to their creators/publishers.

Harry regained consciousness easily enough. He would though, with Dreamless Sleep, once the potion wore off, you woke up. His eyes fluttering for a second or two before snapping open, he heard someone sucking in a breath, before a warm hand grasped his.

"Oh, Harry! Ron and I have been so worried! Even the Professors have been by to check on you but Madam-"
"Oh good, Mr. Potter, you're awake." the Mediwitch came bustling in at the sound of a raised voice.

"You suffered quite a shock Mr. Potter, but you'll be fine. I'd feel better if you remained here until supper, but since there is nothing else wrong with you, I suppose… After I give you a final check over, you may leave and go directly to the Headmaster's office. And not a moment before, understand? I can always keep you here until after supper" The Matron tutted, all too used to children trying to sneak their way out before she would allow it.

"I feel fine, Madam Pomfrey. Can I go now?" Harry begged. He really couldn't even remember what shocking event had landed him in the hospital wing, to begin with, and he did feel fine. One would think she was holding a caged animal against its will rather than a sick or injured child. The mediwitch nodded absently at him while carefully reading at the results of the spell she had cast. Seemingly satisfied with whatever she saw, she handed him his robes, that she had stored somewhere while he'd been asleep and ushered Ron and Hermione out so that he could change.

Quickly, Harry changed out of the pajamas, while outside of the curtains, Hermione attempted to pepper Madam Pomfrey with questions.

"Will he really be all right?"
"Of course, he will be."
"But he collapsed..." Hermione said, unconvinced. She was worried about Harry.

Logically, Madam Pomfrey would release Harry back to the dorms, insisting that he not go to classes for the rest of the day, that did make Hermione feel better.

"Miss. Granger, are you questioning my ability to judge my patient's-"
Thankfully for Hermione, she was cut off as Harry stepped around the curtain.

"I can go now, right?" Harry said anxiously, although he tried not to show it. He liked Madam Pomfrey, really he did, but she could be overbearing at times.

"You may go but I want you to take this before you go to bed tonight. It's something that will help you sleep. It is not dreamless sleep, but it should have a similar effect. Now, I think it would be best if you went directly to the Headmaster's office. The password is Chocolate Frogs." The good witch said while pushing the three second years out of the infirmary.

Harry didn't need any more encouragement and fled the wing as to put as much distance between him and the Matron as possible, leaving Ron and Hermione, calling after him.

He was curious as to why the Headmaster wanted to see him so he after telling the gargoyle the password, he went up and hesitantly walked past Fawkes who trilled in greeting.

"Good afternoon there young Harry," Dumbledore said. Harry smiled at him before noticing his head of house and Professor Snape present as well. The smile died on his lips."Care for a lemon drop?"

"No thanks," Harry muttered, looking worriedly back and forth between this two Professors and the Headmaster.

Professor McGonagall gave him a tight-lipped smile while the potions master lip curled slightly. Not as much as usual though, Harry noted.

"Sit down, my boy. We have a couple of matters to discuss. Nothing we can't work through, I assure you, Harry." Dumbledore said kindly when Harry looked at the Potions Master who was sending him a piercing look. It does, however, concern today's events in Professor Snape's class. Do you remember what happened?"
"Er, no. Sorry." Harry said although he felt like he did know. He knew, that it was big, but he couldn't remember what.

"You were asked to brew a simple paternity test." The wizened man said in an attempt to jog Harry's memories. It worked.

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He remembered now. He wasn't a Potter he was a Winchester. Merlin!

"No need for that now Harry. Professor McGonagall has just come back from meeting Mr. Winchester and your brothers, they live in America. Professor McGonagall thinks that they would provide better-suited living arrangements this summer than the Dursley's, it could be arranged for you to stay with them."
Harry's eyes widened and looked at his head of house, she looked back at him while the Headmaster handed him a piece of parchment, the same parchment he had held just hours earlier, in Snape's class. He looked at it as his professor spoke.

"It's true Harry. Mr. Winchester and I met in person while you were still in the infirmary. He is anxious to see you again." The elderly woman said kindly.

"But what about the Dursley's? I thought because of the wards…."
Harry looked at the adults in the room. Dumbledore had said only last year that he was safest in their care.

"The wards could still protect you, as the Potter's most obviously blood adopted you, however, I think you would be just as safe in America as you would be spending the summer with Lily's sister and her family. You begged me last year before summer term not to send you back to the Dursley's. I would have no other option, but to do just that again this year if you chose not to stay with the Winchesters."

"But the wards…how did they work when I am not actually..."

"I fear that is another one of life's mysteries, Harry. Love is amongst the strongest forces on earth." The man said cheerfully. while picking himself out a lemon drop.
"Can I... can I think about it, sir?" Harry whispered he really didn't want to spend the summer doing chores, but the thought of having a father and brothers, a family, was a lot to take in at the moment. He'd gone from being an unwanted orphan to a son in a matter of hours. He had a father whom he didn't even remember and knew nothing about. Brothers too.

"Certainly, Harry. No one is asking you to make a decision now. If you want, you can write them a letter, introducing yourself. They are muggles and American at that, so there are different rules to abide by concerning muggles, so McGonagall could not inform them of who we are, but I am sure we can arrange it so that any correspondence between you and the Winchesters will be received."

"Thank you, sir. I-I think I will go and write them a letter now."
"Of course Mr. Potter. Your father's name is John and your brothers are Dean and Sam. They are both older than you, but they seem like polite young men. If you need help figuring out what to say, my office door is open. Give me the letter, once you are finished and I will see that it gets delivered." Harry nodded in understanding and quickly left the Headmaster's office.

Stumbling down the steps, he blindly made his way through the stairways and corridors to the common room, where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him.

"So what did Dumbledore want? Was it about Snape's class today?" Ron asked eagerly as soon as he saw Harry.

"Ron! It's Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape"
"I don't want to talk about it right now guys," Harry mumbled just before Neville came rushing up to him.

"Harry! I am so sorry. I didn't mean for the cauldron to explode! I swear I don't know what happened. I thought with Hermione helping me, I'd actually get it right this time," cue nervous laughter. "Are you okay? P-professor Snape was really mad, and I lost the house fifty points. I am so sorry Harry, I didn't mean to. Honest!"

"It's okay, Nev," Harry said, but it was half-hearted at best. Harry was too worried about what he was going to say to the Winchester's. He'd didn't even know where to begin.

"Oh, okay. If you say so, Harry. Hey Harry? What did happened in Professor Snape's class after the cauldron exploded?"

"Nothing. I just want to be alone right now guys okay? I'll see you for dinner." And with that Harry trudged up the stairs and into the boy's dormitory leaving behind a confused Neville a worried Ron and an upset Hermione who was going to follow Harry had Ron not stopped her just in time. "Let him go 'mione."

Digging through his stuff, he managed to pull out a piece of parchment and a quill pen along with some ink. Setting it down in the window seat, he perched up on the bench and stared out onto the snow-laden grounds hoping dejectedly, that he would find some sort of inspiration out there. Turns out, unless he had a strong desire to talk about the Scottish winter, there was little outside that was going to help him write the letter.

Harry sighed, he'd have to do it sometime.

Dear Mr. Winchester and Family,

No, too impersonal, this was supposed to be a letter to his family. His father and brothers, but they were strangers, and this was his first letter to them, so how was this letter supposed to be personal? Besides, it wasn't like he had a whole lot of practice writing letters. Usually, the only time he got to write was during the Christmas Holidays when Hermione and Ron were with their families because during the summer months he was forbidden to make any contact with "those freaks".

Harry tried again,

Mr. Winchester and sons,

No. No. No. That wasn't any good either. Why couldn't Harry come up with a good way to address this letter? He could always address it to his dad but Harry didn't want to replace his dad, James Potter, like that. At least, not yet.
After several other attempts at making a less formal address, Harry finally gave in. It would have to be a formal one because Harry didn't know any other way to address his father or brothers.

Dear sir,

Because that was a safe bet. People liked to be addressed as sir and ma'am.

You probably don't know who I am or why I am writing, but I am your son, Henry Winchester. My professors said that I should write to you and introduce myself since I just found out that you are my father and because we don't know anything about each other. So, er, here goes.

I like to go by Harry and I am twelve years old. I am currently in my second year at the boarding school I attend. It's located in Scotland, but I live in Surrey with my aunt and uncle during the summer months….

.

.

.

... I don't know when this will reach you because of the distance, but Professor McGonagall promised that you would write back. So um, I guess I will wait to hear back from you.

Harry

Harry read over the letter multiple times wondering how the Winchesters would react to receiving a letter instead of a telephone call or an email. Maybe, his professor had explained.

Folding the letter carefully, he walked out of the dormitory. In the common area, he saw Hermione had convinced Ron to work on some homework, but it didn't look like Ron was trying too hard. Harry smiled slightly when Ron noticed him and leaped from his chair with an exclamation. "Harry!"
"Hey, Ron."

"Do you want to walk with me while I deliver the letter to Professor McGonagall and we could walk down to the Great Hall together?"

"Sure. You comin' Hermione?"
"I'll meet you down there." Was the only thing Hermione said, as she was nose deep in some text. Some things never changed.

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged.

"So mate, gonna tell me what happened this morning in Snape's class or is it a secret," Ron said as soon as they were out of earshot from Hermione. Harry winced, of course, Ron would want to know.

"Well, I…" Harry said nervously and twitched. He didn't twitch. Must be nerves.

"Um, kind turns out that the Potter's weren't you know..."
Ron stopped and looked at Harry with wide eyes.

"Blimey, mate. Are you sure? I mean you look so much like your father, er, I mean James, that..."

"Yeah, Professor McGonagall actually met up with um, them, today after Snape's class."

"Oh, what'd she think of them, because if they are anything like your current relatives-" Ron started but shushed when Snape rounded the corner. He sent them both a piercing look but otherwise ignored them.

"I think they want me to spend the summer with them."
"Oh, that's good," Ron said obviously relieved. "because I think mum wanted to try to take you in for at least a couple of weeks."
"That's nice of her," Harry said sincerely as they approached their Professor's office. Fortunately, the door was open meaning she hadn't left for the Great Hall yet, but Harry still hovered unsurely outside her office.

"Come in Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."

"Professor." Both said, slightly abashed at being caught but the woman didn't seem to mind.

Harry held out the parchment for his professor to take but retracted it slightly when a look of surprise passed over her face.

"Have you written it already Harry?"

"Yes, ma'am. I wasn't sure what to write so I did as you suggested." Harry said anxiously. Once he gave it to her, she'd send it to his father. Now that he was here with the letter, he wasn't sure if he wanted to communicate with his dad. He'd just found out today. It was much too early. He didn't know if he could give her the letter. If he did and Mr. Winchester replied, then is solidified the fact that Lily and James weren't his parents.

"Harry," Minerva said softly while shooting Ron a look that told him to go ahead to the Great Hall.

"Harry sit down."

Harry sat numbly down, staring intently at his hands.

"Harry, I want you to listen to me. Do you want me to send this letter right now? I understand that you just found out about Mr. Winchester and his other sons. If it's too much too soon, we can wait. I told Mr. Winchester that you would probably be in contact with him, but none of us expect you to have a letter written so soon." The witch said softly. While she had plenty of time to be disappointed that Harry wasn't James' and Lily's son, now was not the time to dwell on the fact. Their adopted son needed her, and she would not fail in their memory.

"It's okay, you can go ahead and send it," Harry said without much enthusiasm.

"Are you sure?" She must have been unconvinced.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very well, Mr. Potter if you are sure. I will see that it goes out first thing in the morning." Harry nodded before getting up.
"Mr. Potter, before you go, I need to catch you up on what you missed in today's class. It was nothing but notes, I am sure Miss. Granger's notes are detailed enough but if there is something you are confused about, know that my office is always open for you." Somehow, through the muddled of thoughts that were running through Harry's brain, he understood the unspoken words behind her offer.

He offered her a small smile in return.

"Come now, Mr. Potter. We best not keep Mr. Weasley or Miss. Granger waiting."

Back at Bobby's the Winchester's were left to their own thoughts. Each of them was handling the news of their youngest brother or son being alive.

"What I don't understand is why are they coming to us now and telling us this?" Dean said to the room at large.

Sam sighed. Was he the only one excited about the fact that his baby bro had survived that night?

"'Cause they just found out about us."
"I heard that! It's just how do we know it isn't a trap or something? How do we know that that woman is telling the truth? That he actually survived?"

"I offered her holy water kid, you saw yourself, nothing happened. Silver and salt didn't affect her either. If that woman is somethin' evil, it's nothing we've ever encountered before."
"I wasn't saying she was setting a trap, or that she was a demon or anything," Dean said aggressively. "I heard her say that the school was located in Scotland. How could Henry be all the way in Scotland, when we live here? How did he find out about us? You never went to Scotland did you?"

"I don't know Dean. Maybe he'll explain it in that letter he's going to be sending us. And no, I've never been to Scotland or England."
"Why don't they just use a computer and send us an email? It's faster and more modern and that way we don't have to wait around for the letter. What if we aren't even here by the time it arrives?" Dean huffed. What kind of archaic school did his brother go to? I mean, what school enforced a letter-writing policy nowadays anyway.

"You heard that that Professor said, the school is one of the oldest school in Scotland and some elements they try to preserve and I am sure Bobby would hold the letter for us."
"And one of those things they are trying to preserve is letter writing?" Dean said sarcastically.

"I think it's nice that they are trying to teach kids how to write a letter and how to address an envelope. It's a life skill, you know. Not everything can be sent by a computer."
"Sam?" Dean looked at him with his bitch-face.

"Yeah."
"Shut up. Not everyone's a nerd like you and can understand what school wants to spend time teaching twelve-year-olds how to write a letter."
"If that school of his wants them to write letters then we will wait until the letter arrives and then we will respond with our own letter," John said not even bothering to on to Sam or Dean for their constant bickering.
"Are you being serious right now? Because there is no way I am going to write him a letter telling him about myself, when I could just call him up and talk to him on the phone or Sammy could send him an email." Dean asked, clearly not amused that he would be reduced to writing letters in this day in age just to communicate to his kid brother.

"Just because your penmanship sucks and you don't know how to write, much less address an actual letter, doesn't mean the rest of us to have to suffer through your complaining, besides I don't know his email address." Sam snarked back.

"If he even has one. Probably doesn't and that's why we are having to use snail mail."

"Enough! Dean, you are going to write your brother a letter, and I mean handwrite him one- like he is taking time away from his studies to do- no typing it up and printing it out. And Sam, stop messing with your brother. God! I don't know if I can handle another son if he's going to be like you two." John groaned.

Hey Dad, is it normal for schools to teach twelve-year-olds DNA profiling?"