Last Time
The room he shared with his father was exactly the same, and he kissed Hedwig's head and opened the window for her. He noticed as he did so that there was a line of salt on the window sill. He would have to ask what was with all the salt tomorrow. But for now he was tired and he was happy to change his pyjamas for fresh pyjamas, brush his teeth, and he crawled into bed.
Bobby's place seemed more like home to him than the Dursleys ever had, despite how short a time he'd been here, and he felt safe and welcomed here. He closed his eyes and wriggled his body happily in the clean sheets. He just wanted to sleep now for a good several hours, and that was exactly what he did.
Chapter Seven – Birthday
It took Harry three days before he stopped feeling so shaky and weak, and in those three days he ate more than he had in his entire time being in America with his real family. He was encouraged to eat and rest by all four men in the house, but soon Harry was back outside, in the sweltering heat of summer, to sit under his bird feeder and watch happily, peacefully, as several different bird species came and went, dropping seeds on his head as they nibbled.
He was watched even more closely than before, and checked on more often too, but he wasn't doing anything too taxing, and he was eating everything given to him, and even drinking the awful glass of milk every morning without complaint. He didn't mind being watched, especially not after what had happened in that motel room. The terror of not being able to control his own body, the fear of thinking that he would walk himself to his death. It really had felt like a curse…one in particular came to mind. The Imperius curse. The fake Moody had taught him that curse last year. The difference was that Harry had learnt to throw off the Imperius curse with ease. Nothing about being caught up in the compulsion of that monster had been easy and he hadn't been able to throw it off at all. That was what had worried him the most. If he had been targeted by that monster, and according to everyone else he would have been because it had been drawn to his feelings of depression, without his family nearby to look out for him and stop him from leaving that room, then he could have died without ever meeting them.
"You're thinking too hard about it." John's voice cut into his thoughts.
Harry hadn't even noticed that John's approach had scared away all of the birds he'd been watching.
"I keep thinking about what could have happened." Harry said softly.
"Don't. It won't do you any good. What happened, has already happened, Harry. We can't change it now. That creature is dead and you're still alive."
"Barely." He scoffed.
"No, not barely, Harry. You're alive. Sometimes that's all that matters in the end."
Harry nodded and he sighed. "It's hard to come to terms with."
"It took me a while too, when I first found out about all of this. I didn't want to believe it either."
"Did you stumble upon the truth as well?" Harry asked curiously.
John sighed sadly, gave Harry a sad look, before looking back at his hands.
"So many evil things are real, I'm not sure how much to tell you."
"I'm alright with all of this. I've known that there are other things out there for a while now. I know that evil exists, I know not all evil is the work of demons and creatures, sometimes people are just that bad. Likewise I know that not all creatures are evil, and deserve the benefit of the doubt."
John sighed and gave Harry another, longer, look this time, considering him.
"Speaking of demons, they're real too, Harry. And they're some of the worst things I've ever come across. It was a demon who killed Mary, my wife, who would have been your mother. Dean was only four, Sammy was just a baby. A demon ripped her open and left my children without their mother, and I don't think any of us have ever gotten over it. People thought I had gone crazy when I tried to tell them what I'd seen, they tried to tell me I needed counselling. I knew what I'd seen, though. I found out the truth from a woman named Missouri. I learnt what I could, and then I started hunting these things down, so they couldn't rip another family apart like they had mine. I've been hunting the demon who killed Mary relentlessly, but it always slips through my fingers."
Harry said nothing, because there was absolutely nothing that he could say. He just looked at John when his father turned his head to look at him. John sighed and smiled at him.
"You're too young to have these weights on you. Me and the boys, we were gonna ease you into what we did, tell you after we'd gotten to know you better. We never wanted you to be thrown head long into it, and we never, ever wanted you to be a target for anything we hunted."
Harry smiled then. "I'm still alive." He pointed out.
John laughed and laid a hand on Harry's back. "We're gonna keep you that way too."
"What do demons look like?" Harry asked curiously.
"Normal people, Harry." John told him seriously. "They take over an innocent human to be their host, so they can look like everyone else, even people you know. I'll teach you how to recognise demon possession and other little tricks when you're older."
"Is Bobby's water test one of those tricks?"
"You're too smart for your own good. Yes, that's one of the tricks."
"So he's making sure we aren't possessed by demons before letting us into his house?"
"That's right."
"Is water bad for demons?"
"Holy water is."
Harry made an O with his mouth as he realised what the trick actually was. "I see. So demons can't drink holy water?"
"Or get splashed with it."
Harry nodded.
"Come on, it's lunch time and I was sent out here to get you to come in and wash up."
Harry grinned. "I don't think you did a good job of that."
"Go on, get." John grinned, giving Harry a gentle shove towards the house.
Harry jogged in and went to the bathroom first, washing his hands. He really liked it here and he liked his new family, small and odd though it was. He was happy here, he felt protected, more safe than he ever had anywhere else. He already loved them, he realised suddenly, his hands stilling under the running water. He was growing attached to them and he would be devastated now if he had to leave them. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want to be away from any of them.
Harry swallowed hard. He could only hope that the four men he now saw as family thought of him in the same way. That they were as attached to him as he was to them, but his self-doubt and anxiety had him convinced that they didn't. That it was all one sided.
He took several calming breaths, finished washing his hands and he went downstairs to eat. He would just have to make them like him and make them attached to him. He didn't want to lose them, not now that he'd maybe found a place to call home.
Harry was awake in the early hours of the morning on his fifteenth birthday. It hadn't been a nightmare that had woken him, which was unusual enough, but he couldn't sleep either. He laid in bed for uncounted minutes, trying to ease himself back to sleep, but he couldn't manage it.
With a soundless sigh, he got up as quietly as he could, so he didn't disturb John, and he padded out of the bedroom to go downstairs.
It was silent in the house, as he got himself a glass of water and booted up his laptop. This wasn't how he would have chosen to start his birthday, but he didn't really mind. It was still better than any of his other previous birthdays, for the pure fact that he was here, with his actual family.
He went to the living room, and he sat on the settee, his laptop over his legs, and he googled veterinary sites for wild animals.
It was quiet as he worked, almost peaceful, if it hadn't have been for his nerves. Perhaps that was why he'd woken up? Or been unable to sleep, at least. He was actually worried about celebrating his birthday with his family, because he'd never really celebrated it before, especially not with the Dursleys, he didn't really know what to expect, or how he should behave. He was woefully socially inexperienced, and that was making him anxious. He cursed the Dursleys and their mistreatment of him, it was because of that that he didn't know how to act, or what to do, he hated it, and he hated them.
"Harry, what's up? You okay?"
Harry peered over his shoulder at Dean, who came to lay a hand on his head, running his fingers through his hair slightly, looking at him worriedly.
"I'm fine." Harry insisted.
"Nightmares?"
Harry shook his head. "No."
"You can tell me if you have had one. I might not be as good with feelings as Sammy, but I can still listen."
"I didn't. I just couldn't sleep."
"Excited for your birthday?" Dean teased, but his smile faded as Harry avoided eye contact.
"Not really. I've never really had a proper birthday before. I guess I'm just nervous."
"Nervous? Dude, don't be, we're going to make it awesome."
"That makes me nervous too. I don't know how to react to normal things like that. I don't really like having any attention on me."
"We're gonna look after you, Harry." Dean told him seriously. "You can react however the hell you want, we don't care, as long as you're happy. We'll try not to make you uncomfortable though, but we are celebrating your birthday."
Harry smiled, and looked down at his hands in his lap.
"I'll try to behave normally."
"No, behave how you want. You'll get used to it."
"What if I don't?"
Dean gave him a smirk. "You will. We're going to celebrate everything from now on, so you'll have plenty of practice."
"I get embarrassed easily." Harry admitted.
"You're worried about getting presents? Harry, don't be. I think you'll like what we've got you."
Harry looked into Dean's green eyes and tried to convey exactly how uncomfortable that made him.
Dean sighed, and reached out to ruffle his hair again. "You're not getting out of receiving presents, Harry. We want to spoil you. You deserve it."
"I don't though."
"You do." Dean said firmly, his voice rising slightly.
Harry flinched from that, and Dean took a breath and eased back. He tried to remember what Sam had said about not making sudden movements, and absolutely not to raise his voice. He was already failing.
"You do deserve to be spoiled, and we're gonna be the ones to do it." Dean said his voice once again level and calm. "Will it help if everyone isn't gathered around you and staring?"
Harry shrugged a bony shoulder, but Dean took it as a yes anyway. He took the hastily wrapped present from his back pocket, and handed it over.
"Happy birthday, kid." He said with a smile, then left the room to grab some coffee, leaving Harry to look at the present nervously.
Harry put his laptop aside, and sat forward, passing the present from hand to hand. It was light, rather flat, and oddly shaped.
He looked to the door almost anxiously, before he peeled open the paper carefully. A black cord spilled out, and Harry slid out the necklace. The black cord was like the necklace that Dean wore, but the pendant was different. Dean's was some sort of horned man. Harry's was a pentacle. A pentagram within a circle made of metal. Harry smiled at it, and looped it around his neck. It hung a little low, but hopefully he would grow into it.
Harry didn't notice Sam coming down the stairs, nor Dean gesturing frantically to him to get him to come into the kitchen first.
"Hey, is he okay?" Sam asked as a paramount concern, accepting the mug of coffee from Dean.
"He's fine. Woke up early because he's nervous about being surrounded and fussed."
Sam's shoulder's dropped. "I was worried about that. We can't not celebrate though."
"He doesn't want it, Sam!"
"Dean, he needs to get used to it. It's normal. It's a part of his healing."
"You didn't see how anxious he was! The way he avoided even looking at me, Sam."
"Why are you boys arguing today? You know it's Harry's birthday." John cut in, giving them both a glare.
"Dean doesn't want to celebrate it."
Dean glared harder at Sam. "I didn't say that. I said Harry doesn't want to celebrate it!"
"What happened?" John cut in.
"He's nervous, anxious. He couldn't even look at me." Dean said in a hissed whisper.
"We're not ignoring his birthday." Sam said warningly.
"I didn't say we should ignore it!" Dean insisted, trying to keep his voice level so that Harry didn't hear. "He can't have us all sat gawping at him as he opens presents. I've given mine to him already, just go and say hi, say happy birthday, throw your present at him, then come right back out here, got it?!"
"Is that easier on him?" John asked.
"It will give him the chance to open our presents without us watching." Sam said consideringly. "So he can react how he wants without fear of our reactions, then it takes away the anxiousness."
"Exactly!" Dean nodded.
"Huh, that's surprisingly considerate of you." Sam teased.
"Shut up, Sam." Dean replied, but he'd eased back from his anger and it was more teasing now that he knew he'd protected Harry as well as he could. "I can think about what's best for him too."
"I'll go and give him my gift then."
"You do that, but don't hover over him!"
Sam nodded and walked into Bobby's front room.
"Hey, Harry." He said happily, brightly, watching as those emerald eyes lifted and looked at him. Harry grinned as his hand played with something around his neck. "Happy birthday."
Harry went all bashful then, and sort of curled up where he sat, and Sam noticed what Dean had. Harry was too shy for this. He was too new to them to be thrown into such an awkward situation like a birthday.
Sam didn't sit down, but he did move to the other sofa to give Harry some space. The thing around his neck was a pentacle on a black cord…Dean's gift. Sam almost smirked, of course Dean would give Harry something that would protect him.
"I'm going to go and grab a coffee. I can smell it from here and there's nothing better when you've just woken up." Sam said, noting that Harry looked more curious. "No coffee until you're older, it's for adults, and students taking on too much."
Harry chuckled a little, but peeked up shyly. "It smells bitter."
"That's just the way Dean likes it, bitter like he is."
Harry laughed properly then, and he had poked out of his shell a little more, so Sam handed over his present and then left the room. It was one of the hardest things he'd had to do. He didn't like leaving Harry on his own.
"You took your sweet time!" Dean complained.
"We were talking, Dean."
"Oh yeah, what about?" Dean challenged.
"How you're so bitter." Sam snapped.
"Boys, enough." John told them immediately, firmly. "Don't let Harry feel any tension from either of you, he'll think it's aimed at him."
"You idjits fighting again?" Bobby asked, walking into his own kitchen.
"No, just a bit of banter, Bobby." Dean said, still staring hard at Sam.
"Why is Harry on his own on his birthday?"
"He doesn't want anyone crowding him or fussing him. He doesn't want anyone watching as he opens his presents." Dean said, finally turning his gaze to Bobby.
"I know how he feels." Bobby said gruffly. "So how we handling it?"
"Dean and I just gave over our presents and excused ourselves to get coffee."
"Kid is damn bright, he'll see right through it if we all do that."
"I don't think he cares, Bobby." Sam said quietly. "He's just glad not to be put on the spot."
"Right, okay." Bobby said, moving to a cupboard, and taking out some wrapped gifts that were clearly books, and went to go give them to Harry.
Bobby came back literally less than a minute later.
"I see what you mean. You'd think I was handing him his execution order the way he tried to curl into himself."
"He'll get better." John said, before walking to the front room to hand over his own presents.
Harry was studying the books that Bobby had given him, two small books on learning Latin. There was a neatly folded, flattened pile of wrapping paper in front of him. That spoke volumes to how nervous Harry truly was.
"Harry." He greeted. "Happy birthday."
Harry turned his head to look at him, and he smiled. A small, sweet smile that broke John's heart. If he thought about it he could still see the bruise on Harry's face, where he had been hit, if he closed his eyes he could see the bruises and wounds on his body, one of which he had to stitch up, yet Harry was such a loving, sweet kid that the very thought of someone, anyone, hitting him made John tremble with rage.
"Here. I'm going to grab some coffee while you open these, then I'll be right back, okay?"
Harry nodded. "The coffee must be good today." He quipped, more as a way to let John know that he knew what they were doing.
"The coffee is always good." John said, giving that tiny shoulder a gentle clap, taking in the grin that stole over Harry's face, before heading back to the kitchen, allowing Harry to open the books he'd gotten him without anyone watching.
Of course Sam was hovering. He was a few heartbeats away from pacing.
"Sit down, Sammy. He's fine." John assured him, going to the coffee machine and pouring himself a mug.
"Did he seem like he was coping with the presents?"
"Sam, he's fine. Couldn't keep his hands off the books Bobby got him." He added with a smirk. "He might never have had presents before, but his awkwardness comes from us being strangers, not getting gifts."
"That kid is too damn smart." Bobby snarked. "He'll blow through those books in less than a week, I guarantee it."
John chuckled as he picked up his mug and started drinking the coffee. Considering Harry was already reading those books, he wasn't going to take that bet.
"Think it's been long enough yet?" Dean asked, looking anxious and uncomfortable.
John sighed, and wanted to give the both of them a smack about the ears.
"Just sit down and give him a few minutes."
Dean did as told, as always, but Sam looked torn, and he did start pacing as John had known he would.
"Sammy, he's fine, I swear." He told his son.
"I just worry for him. With everything he's been through already, and we don't know even half of what he's been through. He's still hiding a lot and I'm worried what that is. What he's told us already is bad. Like seriously bad. What's worse than that that he feels he has to hide it?"
John hadn't considered that, and he sighed wearily. He felt old. Old and tired.
"It can't possibly be worse than what he's already told us!" Dean denied immediately.
"You might not want to hear it, but it could be." Sam pointed out.
"You need ta stop speculating about it!" Bobby cut in. "That boy ain't even been here a month yet. He's not gonna spill all his secrets in so little time. He needs to settle with you all first."
"I just want to make everything better for him, Bobby."
"I hear ya, Sam. I do, but you're making me anxious so god knows how Harry feels. Just let him come to you and in the meantime, stop stressing over it."
Sam sighed and slumped into a chair, and the kitchen lapsed into silence for a moment as John finished his coffee and stood to pour himself another. He checked his watch, and decided that just less than fifteen minutes was long enough for Harry to get over the awkwardness of his own birthday.
"Go on, boys." He said, nodding his head to the other room.
The two of them didn't need telling twice and they were gone. John gave a dark chuckle.
"Them two are so protective of that poor boy."
John nodded his agreement to Bobby's assessment.
"Poor kid isn't going to get to do anything with those two always hovering over him." Bobby added.
"I raised them to always look after one another." John sighed. "Dean more so as he was older. They're just carrying that on now with Harry. He's a small boy, been hurt too much, and has this air of vulnerability about him. The boys can sense it, and pull tighter around him. They just want to protect him."
"Ain't nothing wrong with that." Bobby agreed. "But Harry needs his own space to grow and learn too. Make sure those boys keep a balance."
John nodded and sighed. Thinking that he'd left it long enough to give Harry some time without being immediately swarmed he stood and moved off to the front room.
That pile of neatly folded paper was still there, Harry's gifts were carefully, almost reverently stacked, and Harry looked shifty, but he was smiling as Dean spoke animatedly, flailing his hands around.
"I'm just saying that it's terrible that I'm the only one who didn't give him books!" Dean was saying.
"I like books." Harry insisted, smiling.
"Urgh, you and Sammy are so alike."
"Are you tormenting him?" John asked as he came further into the room and sat next to his youngest son. Harry gave him such a sweet smile that it wrenched something within his heart.
"No, I'm just saying that everyone but me gave him books! Even you gave him books, Dad!"
John smirked. "Course I did. Harry likes books."
Dean groaned and Harry laughed.
"Can't even believe that you all got him books." Dean grumbled.
John kept an eye on Harry, and he seemed a little uptight, but otherwise perfectly fine.
"What did you get him?" John asked.
"This." Harry said, pulling the pendant out from his chest to show him.
John controlled the smirk at seeing the pentacle around Harry's neck.
"I like it." Harry said, pressing it back down and laying a hand over it.
"It's not even a book." Dean pointed out proudly.
"It suits you." John said, and Harry beamed so happily and he sat a little straighter, looking proud. It was sad how such a simple remark made Harry react in such a way because he was so affection starved.
John didn't consider himself the affectionate type, he knew he'd made so many mistakes in regards to his boys, but even what small bit of affection he could show to Harry was more than the boy had ever gotten before…John needed another hunt. He needed to kill something to stop himself from thinking too hard about Harry's situation and the abuse he'd suffered.
Looking at the tiny teen beside him, fifteen years old today, he wondered if he shouldn't take him to a hospital to have him properly, thoroughly checked over.
He wasn't healthy, not by a long shot, and he feared that there might be something seriously wrong with his youngest boy. He didn't want to lose him now that he'd found him. One of Mary's boys.
Harry wouldn't like it, Sam and Dean would likely interfere in anything he tried to plan, but he'd meant it when he had said that he'd rather Harry hate him than watch him suffer. Whether that meant forcing him to show his injuries and taking care of them, or dragging him to a hospital to undergo tests to make sure that he wasn't suffering with something unseen. Which reminded him he would have to set up therapy sessions for Harry too. He sighed and looked at the bright, happy boy who was talking to Sammy and Dean as if they'd known one another for years. Not today. Today was Harry's birthday and he apparently didn't need another reason to hate his birthdays. No, he'd go on a solo hunt if he could find one, just to blow off a bit of steam, and then he'd sort everything out when he came back.
Harry had almost crawled into his own skin when he'd been presented with a birthday cake and told to blow out the candles. They could see how red his cheeks went to be placed on the spot, the centre of attention, and his shoulders had hunched, his arms had pulled in tight over his chest, his hands locked together almost as if he were praying…perhaps he was, for all of them to fuck off and this situation to be over.
But they had wheedled and poked at him, until he had picked his chin up and blew out the candles quickly. Normal candles and not those re-lighting ones. They didn't want to traumatise him after all.
Harry picked at the cake, not really recovered from the horror of having to blow out candles in front of an audience…at least they had decided not to sing to him, and not entirely because of Harry either after both Bobby and John had refused point blank to sing anything for anyone.
After the cake Harry had been dragged off by Dean to watch movies, with a rather large stash of snacks and candy for the poor boy to try after they'd found out that he'd never had British candy, and had never heard of most American candy.
Sam and Dean were spoiling him, but John let it go. After what Harry had gone through he deserved a bit of love and attention, and a lot of spoiling.
Harry stayed up until midnight, at which point John told him it was no longer his birthday and he had to go to bed. He and Dean had been watching movies all afternoon, and half of the night too, the two older brothers sandwiching Harry between them, and an hour into the movie fest Harry had forgotten his embarrassment of being presented with a birthday cake and he had come back out of his shell to laugh and joke with his brothers. John had joined them for a bit, and it was nice, watching old movies with his boys, a beer in hand.
Harry was bringing out the best in them all. Offsetting their overprotectiveness, and the need to raise him right. Harry had been exposed to the things in the dark, there was no helping that after he'd been targeted by that thing less than a week ago.
Then Harry had admitted that he'd known even before that, before they'd even met him. John had given Harry's books to Bobby to cross-reference, and everything within it was kosher. Every way they knew of to detect the creatures these books mentioned, their habits, their preferences, and how to kill them. Harry had apparently picked those books up off of a shop shelf back in Britain. That itself roused John's need to dig deeper. How did his son, the son he hadn't known about, just pick up hunting books off of a shelf if it wasn't demonic intervention?
John left it half an hour, then went upstairs to check on Harry. The window was open, allowing his damn owl to come and go as she pleased, and John hated it. He went to make sure that the salt line was still intact, but any gust of wind, normal or supernatural, would blow it right off and put them all at risk.
He and Bobby had put a devil's trap right under the window, hidden by a new rug, just in case.
John went to Harry and couldn't help smiling at his boy. He looked impossibly younger in sleep, perhaps as young as twelve, and it made John sigh. He shook his head and tucked Harry in and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face.
Harry made a soft sound and squirmed under the covers, but he settled soon after. John smiled despite himself. This little kid had wormed his way in so quickly and effectively, it was as if he'd always been there.
He was a Potter in name, but he was a Winchester by blood, and everything else that mattered. His mind automatically drifted to Adam and he run a hand through his hair before sitting on his bed. Adam was almost a full year older than Harry. They were both fifteen for the moment, though Adam was turning sixteen next month. He would need to go and spend some time with Adam too, he usually did for his birthday.
John sighed and looked back to Harry, and considered leaving him again so soon. He'd had an almost breakdown the last time he'd left, so this time he would explain he was going on a hunt and would be back soon. Maybe try to keep in contact with his boys a little more.
He was just so close to the trail of that yellow-eyed demon, and he had been out of the game for too long as it was. Harry was important, no doubt about that, and he'd die to protect him, but killing that son of a bitch was also important. He'd been on the hunt for so long, too long, he couldn't drop it now, not for anything.
Soon. Another few weeks, and he'd be back on the hunt for it. He would kill it. For Mary. For his boys.
Remus watched as Sirius paced. Neither of them had eaten today. The owls they had sent to Harry had all come back undelivered. The birthday presents they had sent him had come back that morning, also undelivered. The owls didn't know where to find him and that meant they didn't know how to find him.
Hedwig hadn't been seen since they had sent her off with that message to stay calm and wait for them in Privet Drive. She had clearly known where to find Harry and with that last letter, they had lost their only link to Harry without realising it.
Remus ducked his head and tried to control Moony. The full moon was in a few days and the wolf was closer to the surface, baying for their cub. The cub that they had lost.
"This is serious now, Moony." Sirius said, finally sitting down, staring at him.
"He's been missing for over a month." Remus agreed.
"He must have found a way to contact those Winchesters. We need to find them."
"You're a wanted man, Sirius." Remus pointed out. "And you know I can't do anything until after the full moon."
Sirius slammed a hand into the table. "I knew I should have gone to him the minute I read that letter! I knew he wasn't going to take it well. Of course he was going to do something rash, I mean, what the hell would James have done in his place?"
Remus snorted a soft sound of amusement. "He'd have been gone the moment he found out."
"Yet we didn't think his own son would follow in his footsteps? Moony, we have to get him back. James and Lily, they'd never forgive us if anything happened to him. How can we face them again knowing we lost their son?"
"We won't be able to." Remus sighed softly, knowing it was true. Sirius was right, James and Lily would never forgive them if anything happened to Harry. The baby they had gone to America to have in the first place. The baby they had given their lives to protect.
"You got the address for the place where the Winchesters are living?" Sirius asked.
Remus nodded. "I found where I'd written it down after James told us. But you know I can't go yet. The full moon is in two days. You know about the American hunters, Sirius."
Sirius nodded tightly, but he wasn't happy with waiting, Remus could see it. He felt it himself. They didn't even know if Harry had made it to America, or if he'd found his biological family.
Remus silently cursed the wolf inside him, which was preventing them from looking for Harry. It had to be him that went to look, because Sirius was a famous escaped mass-murder, and they couldn't risk him being seen or caught.
"We will find him." Remus said, both to Sirius and to reassure himself. "We will track him down and make sure that he's safe."
Sirius sighed. "I know we will. We won't give up until we do."
"I'll contact Molly again and see if Ron or Hermione have had any luck. He's more likely to contact them than he is us now that he's so angry with us."
"I wish I'd told him the minute I first saw him." Sirius said, his tone full of regret.
Remus chuckled. "A lot of good that would have done you, considering he thought you were a mass-murder trying to kill off his best friend."
Sirius gave him a manic grin. "It might have given him something else to think about other than me trying to kill him."
"You really didn't help yourself there, Padfoot." Remus reminded.
Sirius let out his bark like laugh. "True enough, but I'd been on the run for a year, after twelve years in Azkaban, and I honestly wasn't thinking."
"That, I believe, is your strong suit."
The both of them shared a look and a laugh. They sobered again rather quickly. Harry never strayed too far from their minds, and the worry was only getting worse.
Dumbledore had sent the Order out looking, covertly, for any sign of where he might have gone. The last thing they needed was the Ministry getting involved, or worse Voldemort and his Death Eaters finding out that Harry was missing and alone without protection.
Remus heaved a sigh, and Sirius echoed him. A few days for the full moon, a bare day after to recover, and then they would go looking for Harry in America, starting in Lawrence, Kansas.
The day Harry's stitches had been cut out was the beginning of the end of the Winchesters, and Bobby's, peace, as he almost gave them all heart attacks by disappearing the very same day.
"Harry?!" Dean yelled out across the junkyard, looking around, trying to spot his baby brother, looking for anything that moved.
"Yeah?" Came the faint call.
Dean's shoulders lowered and he heaved a sigh of relief.
"The hell are you?" He called out, only to hear nothing. "Where are you?" He shouted out louder.
"By here." Came the reply, and Dean followed it…right to the tree in Bobby's yard.
He stood by the trunk and he looked up, to see Harry's skinny legs dangling off a branch.
"You get down here right now!" Dean commanded.
"I'm watching the birds, Dean!" Harry complained.
"I don't care, get your arse down here, now!"
"Dean, did you find him?" Sam called from the porch.
"Oh yeah, I found him." Dean snapped back. "I'm not asking again, Harry!"
"Why?" Harry whined, staring down at him.
"Because I said so!"
"That's not a reason! My stitches are out now."
"So you think that means you can start climbing freaking trees?!"
Harry nodded, looking confused. "Yeah."
"No!" Dean snapped. "Now get your butt down here, I ain't asking again!"
"Dean, Sammy said you'd found…oh for god's sake." John cursed, coming to stand beside Dean and looking up at Harry in the tree. "Harry, down, now!"
Harry puffed out his cheeks in agitation, looking so much like a younger Sammy that both John and Dean had to check themselves. For half a moment it looked like Harry would refuse, and then he shifted and gripped a branch and started lowering himself down.
John reached up to grab Harry's waist and then eased him down to the floor, spinning him around to look at him. Harry had an extremely familiar petulant look on his face.
"What do you think you were doing?"
"Looking through the leaves for bugs." Harry answered.
"That isn't what I meant and you know it. Why were you climbing the tree, Harry? You could have fallen!"
"You said I could when my stitches were out." Harry pointed out stubbornly.
"I didn't mean straight after! Harry, your muscles are still healing, you could have fallen."
Harry frowned and looked away. "I thought I was okay now."
John sighed and eased down. He laid a hand on Harry's tiny shoulder, holding in his anger when he flinched under his touch. He gentled his grip.
"I know I said you could climb the tree when your stitches were out, but you need to wait a bit longer. Can you do that?"
Harry nodded, but he sent a longing look to the tree.
"What's up there that you want so badly?" Dean asked.
"A wasp nest." Harry told them.
"A…a fucking wasp nest?! Harry, damn it, are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"Wasps won't hurt you if you leave them alone." Harry said stubbornly.
"Those evil little things will sting you until you die!" Dean insisted.
Harry shook his head. "They like me. I've been feeding them sugar water for weeks. They associate me with food."
"Great…you're making friends with freaking wasps."
"Right, you can keep the wasps, but don't go climbing the tree, okay?" John told him.
Harry nodded and hurried off, putting some distance between them. Poor kid was still uncomfortable with them giving him discipline, he still anticipated getting a smack.
"I think we have another Sammy on our hands." John sighed, cutting a look to Dean.
"I saw it." Dean said, before smirking. "But he went a whole conversation without backing down. He's getting more comfortable with us."
"If he's taking after Sammy I don't think that's a good thing." John said, before shaking his head and turning back to the house. At least he could wipe away the fear that Harry had gone missing. He'd thought his heart was going to explode thinking that demons had gotten a hold of him.
"Sammy turned out fine." Dean said, chuckling.
John gave Dean a look and chuckled himself. "I could have done without another Sammy."
"What?" Sam asked, looking at them.
"Turns out that Harry takes after you, Sasquatch." Dean said, grinning at him and clapping his shoulder.
"How so?"
"The both of you puff your cheeks out exactly the same."
Sam gave Dean a deadpan glare.
"That!" Dean said, pointing and grinning. "He does that look too. Face it, Sammy, you and Harry are way too much alike."
"Except for the height." Sam pointed out. "Then he takes after you. You both got the short gene."
"Hey, I'm average, you're the one that's freakishly giant, and Harry's just tiny. I can fit my entire hand around his upper arm. That ain't natural."
"He's been abused." John cut in warningly. "He's never going to reach the height he could have. He'll never reach his full potential because of what those monsters did to him."
"What are we gonna do about that, Dad?" Dean asked, a hint of something dark in his voice. "We're not gonna let them get away with it, are we?"
"We're not going to go and kill humans." Sam said firmly.
"They're monsters, Sammy." Dean said angrily. "You saw the state of Harry when he arrived. He's never going to get fully better. He's always going to be short and skinny. He still flinches from us sometimes. He's having nightmares and that kid is keeping more secrets than we are!"
"They're human, Dean. Monsters, yeah, absolutely, but human ones, we can't just go and waste them, no matter how much we want to."
"Sammy's right." John told them, feeling old as he sat down and scrubbed a hand over his face.
"You can't seriously be thinking about letting them get away with what they did to him!" Dean demanded, his voice rising.
"No." John said immediately. "But now isn't the time to think about them. Harry needs our full attention. Have you gotten anywhere with his defence lessons?"
"Yeah, we've shown him a few more moves. He's not that bad at it, but his grip is weaker than I'd like, and if he went against a seriously strong person, or monster, he'd never be able to break their hold on him. He doesn't have the strength for it."
John sighed and felt the added burden of that layer over his shoulders. He really needed to take Harry to a hospital and see if that wasn't due to some sort of deficiency or something. What Harry had already told them was bad enough, the things he was still hiding was potentially terrifying. He really needed to get Harry seen to, and see if there wasn't something that could be done to get him on the track to being healthy.
He looked out the window, and saw Harry kneeling in a patch of wildflowers, uncut grass up to his waist, a smudge of dirt on one cheek and something crawling over his fingers that was making the boy smile so widely and freely.
Harry was getting better, more comfortable with them, but they needed to get him healthy too. John scrubbed at his face again and decided that tomorrow he would drag Harry to the hospital. He'd do it early before Dean or Sam got up, so they couldn't interfere or try to stop him. His mind was made up. Harry was seeing a damn doctor and he'd already put it off for too long.
He just hoped that all three of his boys would forgive him for this move when all was said and done.
A/N: So our little cinnamon bun is going to be subjected to more of John's terrible parental decisions, but it gets much worse than that for our poor Harry…as the Winchesters are about to find out. Old enemies come knocking about, and it's Harry who pays the price.
StarLight Massacre. X