Last Time

Harry had opened the door to them again, and as he sat between them, eyes glued to the screen, even as he ate an apple, they shared a glance over his head, a look that promised that nothing would ever go near their brother ever again. They would not drop the ball, and they would never even think to use him as bait again, he would not become a hunter, he would have as normal a life as they could give him now. The poor kid deserved it.

Chapter Ten – Declaring War

Remus was hesitant as he approached the normal house, on a normal street. He and Sirius were in Lawrence, Kansas looking for the Winchester house so that they could find Harry.

Harry had contacted Hermione, and she had sent them an owl saying that Harry was fine, that he wanted to stay in America with his family, and he didn't want them to come find him.

They had been forced to wait after the full moon. The two of them had initially wanted to come straight to Kansas to look for the Winchesters as soon as Remus had been able to keep his feet, but Dumbledore had called an Order meeting and had then had them looking into a completely different lead (in Britain) for Harry, and now that that had inevitably fallen through they had come straight to Kansas to look for Harry as they had originally planned to do, especially now that they knew from Hermione that he was actually with the Winchesters in America.

Sirius, under a light glamour to hide some distinguishing facial features, was the one to knock on the door. They were both alert, and despite being bone-weary tired from the recent bad transformation, Remus stretched his senses as much as he could. He heard the footsteps on the wooden floorboards a few moments before the door opened.

The woman was much too young to be Mary Winchester, and Remus knew immediately that something was wrong. There was a pit gnawing in his stomach. He already knew that Harry wasn't here.

"Can I help you?" The woman asked them.

"I hope so, we're looking for a young boy named Harry. He's about this big." Sirius said holding a hand halfway up his chest. "He has jet black hair, bright green eyes. He would have been alone."

The woman hesitated. She knew something and Moony howled inside Remus' head at what he saw as a blockade to their cub.

"He's my godson, and he's gone missing." Sirius said urgently, seeing the same slight hesitation that Remus had. "We think that he came here looking for his biological family, the Winchesters."

The woman shook her head. "The Winchesters haven't lived here since eighty-three. I only moved in several months ago."

"Did Harry come here?"

"Yes, in late June. I couldn't help him. I wanted to, he looked so small and lost, but…I don't know where the Winchesters went."

"Do you know anyone who would know where they went?"

She shook her head again, and she looked genuinely remorseful. "No, I'm sorry. They didn't stay in Lawrence after they moved. I told all of this to Harry and I thought…I'd hoped he would have gone back to where he'd come from. Did he not arrive back?"

"No." Remus said shaking his head. "We're trying to find him. Is there anything else you can remember?"

The woman shook her head after a moment of thought. "No. He was wearing a sweater which I thought was odd in this heat, and he had a torn-up backpack, but nothing else really stood out. He looked very upset that I couldn't help him. I'm sorry."

"Okay, thank you." Remus said and he turned and walked away, feeling the panic set in.

"Where is he, Remus?" Sirius demanded. "We need to find him."

"Hermione is the only person who has spoken to him. She said he was fine and that he didn't want to be found."

"I don't care, Remus! I need to see him! I need to know he's okay!"

Remus nodded his understanding. "I know. What I'm saying is we perhaps need to pay a visit to Hermione. We have to be careful though, Sirius, she's still a fifteen year old girl."

"You think she knows where he is?" Sirius asked him.

Remus considered it, but given how close she, Harry, and Ron were, yes, he was almost sure that Hermione knew exactly where Harry was.

"Yes. I think she knows more than she told us in that letter. If Harry would have told anyone, he would have told either Ron or Hermione, or perhaps both, but given that he's in the muggle world, getting a hold of Hermione would have been easier for him."

Sirius breathed out harshly, and then nodded. "Are you okay to Apparate again so soon, or do you want something to eat first?"

Remus shook his head. "The sooner we see Hermione, the better. I will be fine to Apparate back to London, though I might be a little dizzy after."

Sirius nodded and looked at him worriedly, before setting off, back to the small hidden copse of trees they had arrived in. They both stopped and then spun on their heels together, Apparating away from Lawrence with a loud crack.

Dean looked at Harry and he couldn't help smiling as a butterfly landed on the kid's nose. He was sat out on Bobby's porch cleaning his weapons in full view of Harry, who had looked over curiously for a bit, watching him work, before he got distracted by the wildlife.

Harry wasn't quite over what had happened to him with the Shtriga. He still sometimes woke up in the night screaming, and it was usually Sam who would reach him first. It was too ingrained in Dean to immediately go for a weapon and he lost time grabbing for one, and then putting it back down again while Sam just immediately raced to Harry's room to comfort their baby brother.

Harry was getting better though. He hadn't screamed at all last night and he seemed happier and bubblier today because of it. He'd had a decent amount of sleep, from when Dean had tucked him in at ten until he'd woken up himself at gone nine the next morning. He had eaten his breakfast, he'd taken his supplements, and then he had gone straight outside into the heat to play with his bugs and birds.

Dean had followed, he still wasn't comfortable leaving him out here on his own. Anything could come calling, and he didn't want Harry to be caught in the crossfire. He was cleaning his weapons, sharpening some knives, but there was a loaded shotgun resting against the wall of the house, within reach if it was needed.

His cell rang, and Dean put down the oil and the disassembled gun and fished it from his jeans. He had been hoping it was their dad, but the screen display said Jenny. He frowned.

"Jenny, hey, what's up?" He asked, sitting back in the chair and keeping an eye on Harry.

'Hi, Dean. I just wanted to let you know that two men came this morning. They were looking for Harry.'

"What did they look like?" He asked seriously, pinning his gaze to Harry before taking in a quick look at the grounds to make sure nothing was moving, or out of the ordinary.

'They were both tall, one was sandy blonde with amber eyes, the other had black hair and grey eyes. The latter said he was Harry's godfather and that they were looking for Harry who had gone missing. They knew about you…well, the Winchesters, and they said that Harry might have come calling.'

"What did you tell them?" He demanded.

'I had to say that Harry had been here, just in case they call the police, but I never gave them your number, or told them that I had given it to Harry. I told them I'd urged Harry to go back home, and that I didn't know where he'd gone.'

Dean eased back a little, though he still felt tense and alert. "Thank you, Jenny." He told the anxious sounding woman. "Harry doesn't want to go back to those people, he wants to stay with us."

'Is he okay now?' She asked softly.

"Yeah, he's doing much better." He assured her, looking back at Harry, who was messing with those damn wasps again.

'That's a relief, at least. He looked so sad and lost.'

"Thanks again for covering for us, Jen."

'I owe you.' She said.

Dean nodded. "Take care."

'You too.'

Dean slumped and closed the cell, reaching up to rub a hand over his mouth.

"Harry, leave those damn wasps alone!" He called out.

"They won't hurt me!" Harry replied stubbornly, sending him a bitch glare. Damn he looked so much like a younger Sammy like that.

"They might!"! Dean yelled back.

He saw Harry scoffing and rolling his eyes from where he sat. His mouth moved, but Dean couldn't hear what he was saying, as Harry clearly bitched about him to the damn wasps.

"Why are you shouting?" Sam asked, coming out of the house and squinting in the bright light.

"Harry and those damn wasps. He's gonna get hurt! Anyway, I have something else to tell you."

"What?" Sam asked, his expression turning serious. "Did dad call?"

"No, but Jenny did." Dean said.

"Jenny? From Lawrence? What happened?"

"Two men turned up, looking for Harry."

Sam's face hardened and he looked out to where Harry was playing with his wasps. There were two or three of them crawling over his arms and neck while he stood still and just…let them.

"Those people he's so afraid of, do you think?"

"The one introduced himself as Harry's godfather."

"Harry hasn't mentioned having a godfather." Sam pointed out.

Dean nodded. "I know."

"So definitely people who know him, and know about the house in Lawrence, but not that we weren't living there anymore. They're trying to get information by trying to claim a relation to him. Did Jenny say anything to them?"

"She said that he'd been to the house looking for us, but that she'd been unable to help him and sent him on his way."

"They won't give up that easily." Sam said angrily. "Harry is adamant that if they find him they'll drag him back to Britain. They didn't want him to know about us, and they don't want him here with us. They won't stop looking for him."

"We'll protect him." Dean said seriously. "Harry, damn it, it's on your face!" He shouted out a moment later.

"It tickles!" Harry said back, his voice laughing as the wasp crawled over him.

"Please take it off your face!"

"No! I put sugar water there for it to eat."

"Don't put it on yourself! Damn, Harry!"

Harry just laughed and carried on dipping his fingers in the sugar water and dripping it on his bare skin for the wasps to have.

"That damn kid will be the death of me!" Dean groused.

"Those people won't accept that Harry doesn't want to be with them." Sam said, changing the subject back to the two men looking for Harry. "I mean, he has a phone, Dean, a laptop, he could call them, or email them, any time he likes, but he hasn't, and as far as we know, they haven't called or messaged him."

"They sound controlling, abusive." Dean said protectively.

Sam nodded. "That's what I think. Obviously those people he was with weren't the only ones who were abusive towards him."

"God, Sammy, what I wouldn't give to just give 'em a go over. Ten minutes, that's all I want."

Sam grunted in agreement. "We should have had him when he was a baby."

"Not sure what we would have done with a baby when we were twelve and eight. Remember dad back then? I'd have been the one raising Harry, as well as you, and I barely kept you alive at times."

"You're too hard on yourself, Dean. You raised me fine. You know you're the one I care about most, right?"

"No chick-flick moments." Dean cut in immediately.

Sam snorted a laugh, knowing exactly what Dean was doing. The same as he always did.

"Just letting you know I love you, man. I appreciate you and everything you did for me back then."

"God, kill me know." Dean cursed, looking skyward.

Sam laughed properly then. "You're a jerk." He told his brother.

"Bitch." Dean answered automatically.

The both of them fell silent for a while, watching as Harry continued to cover his face and arms with sugar water so that he could have wasps crawl all over him.

"If he gets stung I'm smashing up that nest with a bat." Dean grumbled.

Sam chuckled. "I think he'd be more upset over that than the Shtriga."

Dean considered that, then conceded the point. "Yeah, you're probably right. Honestly though, Sam. I'd do anything for that kid at this point."

"I get it." Sam agreed. "I would too. That's why those people aren't getting him, or dragging him back to Britain. He's staying with us."

"I was thinking we could start up a little prank war with Harry."

"No. Absolutely not. Dean, those things always escalate until one of us goes too far, or one of us gets hurt, we can't do that to Harry!"

"Just something small, Sammy, come on. I think Harry would like it. He's getting really cheeky lately. There's a prankster in there somewhere."

"So you want to traumatise him with a prank war…or rather, what you call a prank war?"

"Sure. We tell him what's what, I prank you first, with Harry fully on board watching, you don't blow up and just retaliate as normal, while Harry watches, and we have a nice, fun prank war and get him more comfortable with us and then hopefully he joins in."

"We can't wake him from sleep, touch his food, or do anything to actually hurt him. We can't blow up at him either, no matter what he does, we can't get angry."

"I wouldn't anyway, that's reserved for you."

Sam snorted and shook his head. "I can't believe I'm even thinking about this."

"It'll be fun." Dean insisted.

Sam rolled his eyes. "When have any of these prank wars been fun, Dean?"

"I don't know, but that itching powder in your boxers was hilarious."

"I supposed supergluing your hand to a beer bottle was fun." Sam chuckled, but he turned serious. "We can't do that to Harry, though. Nothing too damaging and if he reacts badly, we have to call it quits."

"Got it, get ready, Sammy, I'm gonna ruin you and take Harry along for the ride."

"Don't go crazy, Dean. We're supposed to be easing Harry into this, not throwing him in at the deep end."

Harry had stopped feeding the wasps, and he had started putting the sugar water on the trunk of the tree, which led the wasps away from him at least, and then he ran off to the uncut grass, if it could even be called grass, at the edge of Bobby's property. He hunched down and went carefully searching through the grass and the weeds for more bugs.

"I swear that kid is mad about bugs." Dean complained, going back to cleaning the weapons he'd spread out on the table.

"It keeps him calm and happy. That's what we want at this stage." Sam told him. "If he's surrounded by things he likes, with no pain, no trauma, he'll start bonding to us more."

"Think dad already ruined that." Dean grumbled.

"That forced trip to the hospital really didn't help, and using him as fucking bait, yeah, that really didn't help, but he's let us back in, and there's a reason it's us and not dad."

"He's forgiven us, but not him?"

"Something like that, though I doubt Harry would word it that way." Sam explained, watching as Harry found something that made him grin in delight. "He's not ready to forget that Shtriga, or that we pretty much fed him to it. He's holding dad at arm's length to…not so much punish him, but more to hammer home exactly how unhappy he was with us doing that to him."

"We'll do better next time." Dean swore, reassembling the gun he'd just cleaned with well-practiced hands. "We'll protect him better and not just go straight to the quickest way to kill something that's targeted him."

"I hope there's not a next time. I mean, it was a shock that he actually knows about this stuff without us telling him, but…damn, Dean, I just really wish these creatures would stop targeting him. He's been with us for a month and a half and already he's been targeted twice, that's really unusual."

"Yeah, I hear ya." Dean agreed.

"We really need to do better, keep him closer, and maybe stop taking him on hunts."

"He likes being with us."

"I know, but if one of us stays here…" Sam trailed off and shrugged.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, maybe."

"How you boys doin'?" Bobby asked, coming out onto his porch.

"Harry's fine." Dean said, looking up to where he was lying on his belly on the floor, his upper body lost in the grass. "Damn, he's weird."

"He's a good kid." Bobby said firmly. "A really sweet boy. Anyway, your daddy called. He's on his way back."

"Harry hasn't said he wants him here." Sam pointed out angrily.

"Yeah, but you think John will listen to that? He's a few hours out. From what he was saying it's a fleeting visit to check on Harry anyway. Got the feeling he's got another hunt lined up and he wants you boys with him."

"No, we're not leaving Harry."

"Leaving me where?" Harry asked, popping up out of nowhere.

"The hell did you come from?" Dean demanded.

"I needed a drink so I came over for water." Harry said. "Why are you leaving me?"

"We're not leaving you." Dean said sternly.

Harry chewed on his lip. "Is it another hunt?"

"We don't know what it is yet. Dad is coming back in a few hours."

Harry's face remained blank. "If you need to go hunt then I don't mind. You can leave me in the room again."

"You still got targeted last time, Harry."

"I know. But what are the chances of running into that sort of creature again?"

"Knowing our freaking luck, higher than I'm willing to take." Dean grumbled.

"That thing was rare though." Sam pointed out.

"I ain't ever heard of one being in the States before." Bobby agreed.

"We want you to be safe, Harry. Do you really want to come and maybe risk getting targeted?" Sam asked him.

Harry considered it, but when he looked up his face was hard and determined. "I want to stay with you. I won't be left behind."

"Harry, you've been with us for under two months, and you've been targeted twice. We can't promise that it won't happen again, but we swear you will never be put in danger again, we will never use you as bait."

Harry smiled at that. "I know you won't, but I want to stay with you, so that means you can't protect me from everything."

"We can damn well try." Dean told him.

Harry laughed. "I'm a trouble magnet. I always have been. You're not going to leave me all over the place while you go for weeks or months on end and I never get to see you. I come too."

"We'll talk it over later, when dad is here." Sam said.

Harry nodded and picked up his water bottle. "I won't be left around, I've had enough of no one wanting me." He said softly, before taking his water back over to the tree.

"Well that complicates things." Bobby said.

Dean sighed. "We're just gonna have to salt the doors and windows, and hope he doesn't get targeted when he's out."

"Maybe dad doesn't even want to hunt." Sam said.

Bobby and Dean both gave him incredulous looks.

"I meant maybe he doesn't want us to go with him. If we can stay here then Harry can stay with us."

"Yeah, maybe." Dean sighed. "Guess we'll just have to wait until he arrives."

Harry was annoyed when Hermione messaged him saying that Sirius and Remus had tried to force her to tell them where he was. He was tempted to send them a strongly worded letter to show his displeasure.

Hermione had shown herself to him though, as she hadn't cracked, and hadn't told them where he was. They did know he was in America though, and they knew he was with his family.

Hermione had warned him that they were trying to find him, and had sworn that they wouldn't give up when she refused to tell them anything.

Harry was angry, but he calmed himself. No one knew about Bobby. No one knew his family were hunters and travelled all over, they wouldn't be able to find him. He was certain of that.

He had eaten his dinner with no fuss and then drank the nutrient milkshake that was called PaediaSure. At least they had gotten him the chocolate ones, but mostly Harry just forced the thick drink down, well aware that it was going to help him recover from his abuse and help him to grow.

He was allowed to do some of his creature work after dinner, and he liked lying on his stomach with his books and notebook in the middle of the floor.

Sam would usually sit with him, pouring over his own books, and Dean was sometimes there, sometimes he went out to a bar. He was here today, and Harry thought that maybe it was because John was supposed to be there any minute.

"Harry, did you take all your supplements today?" Bobby asked, holding the sheet that recorded his meds, and when he had to take them, and also his height and weight. The doctor wanted a monthly recording to check his progress.

"Yeah." Harry said simply.

Bobby marked it off on the sheet and then went to tuck it back on the fridge.

The front door knocked, and Bobby cursed, going to get his flask of holy water, while Dean and Sam tensed up and were suddenly a lot more alert, just in case it wasn't their father, or he brought something else with him.

Harry noticed that Dean stood and went to block immediate access to the room Harry was lying in by standing in the doorway.

"You're all paranoid." He pointed out.

"Yeah, well being paranoid has kept us alive!" Dean told him.

John was let into the room, having obviously passed the holy water test, and Harry smiled at him.

"How have you boys been?" He asked, hugging Dean who was closest, then going to hug Sam, who stood to do the whole manly shoulder clap hug thing that Harry didn't understand, before John came to him and hunched down beside him, ruffling his hair.

"How are you, Harry?"

"Fine." He said.

"You been taking all your meds and shakes?"

Harry nodded. "Uh-huh. I don't like them much, but I haven't missed any."

John smiled at him and then stood. He looked tired and weary, but that wasn't really anything different for him.

"I got a plate left for you if you want it." Bobby said.

John nodded and scrubbed a hand over his face. He obviously wanted to talk about something, but he either wouldn't, or couldn't, speak about it with Harry there.

"I found out more information about that demon." He announced out of the blue…so maybe he would mention it with Harry there.

"The yellow-eyed demon?" Dean demanded.

Harry looked up curiously.

"I found out its name was Azazel." John told him.

"That's deep biblical shit." Bobby said, thrusting a plate of food at John and then moving to a book. "Sure I have something over here about it."

"Azazel is a Prince of Hell." Harry said. "They're among the first creatures that Lucifer created. I read that in one of my books. There are four princes to counter the four archangels."

"Angels aren't real, Harry." Dean told him gently.

"Of course they are." Harry said simply. "What, you think demons are real, hell is real, but not heaven and angels?" Harry gave him a scathing look.

"What do you know of Azazel, Harry?" John asked him.

"Well, I know the princes were originally the generals of Lucifer's armies." Harry said, frowning thoughtfully.

"We're talking about the literal devil here!" Dean said.

"Lucifer, technically a fallen archangel and not a devil with pointy horns and red skin." Harry said. "If anyone was powerful enough to create demons though it would be an archangel. They do have the power of creation."

"You have that book still, by any chance?" John asked him.

Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, then stood and went to go digging through his backpack for it. It was a book on more worldwide creatures, and it mentioned archangels, and Lucifer's army of knights led by their generals, the four Princes of Hell. Harry hadn't realised that the book meant actual demons though as it referred to them only as dark creatures.

"Here." Harry said, finding the small book and opening it to the section on the Princes of Hell. "Azazel, Asmodeus, Ramiel, and Dagon." Harry said, pointing it out to John, who had left his dinner on the table, forgotten, while he poured over Harry's book.

Sam and Dean stood at John's shoulders, reading what he was.

"All the Princes of Hell are said to have yellow eyes." Harry said. "Are you sure it's actually Azazel?"

"All of them?" John asked, looking frustrated.

Harry nodded. "Azazel is supposedly heralded by mass cattle deaths though." Harry pointed out.

"None of the others?" John asked, looking a mite happier.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not really on the up-and-up with demon lore, or even really biblical stuff. It's only because of that book really, and I didn't know it was about demons. I just recognised the name Azazel."

Harry wondered if Hermione could help him, and he pulled out his phone and asked her to look for books mentioning demons, Azazel, or the Princes of Hell.

"I doubt this stuff is on the internet, Harry." Dean told him

"You can find anything on the internet if you know what to look for." Harry insisted. "No, I'm messaging my friend Hermione. She can go to the bookshops where I got that one, and the others, from and now I know what you want, I can get her to look for them and send them to me."

"How long do you think it might take?" John asked him, almost eagerly.

Harry shrugged. "It depends when she's going to London for back to school shopping. She can look for them then, and she can send them to me. Should take maybe a week from when she gets them."

"Think she can find anything on killing a demon?"

"I'll ask." Harry said, adding that as another message. "Want me to find you some books on angels?" Harry teased Dean.

"Well, yeah, if they're real." Dean said. "Best know what we're up against."

"You can't start killing angels!" Sam declared in horror.

"I'll gank anything that deserves it." Dean said firmly.

"Only angels can kill angels." Harry said surely. "So if angels turn against you, you're screwed."

"Great." Dean complained. "How come no one has ever seen them? Or anyone we know has never met one?"

He had been asking John, but it was Harry who answered.

"Angels, particularly archangels, are said to be able to manipulate reality, to make you see what they want you to see. They can create things out of thin air, warp time and reality. For all you know people have seen angels, maybe even you've come across one before, but you just don't remember."

"Dude, that's messed up." Dean declared.

Harry grinned and nodded at that assessment. "I know. It's freaky imagining it." Of course Harry didn't need to imagine very hard, as he knew what the Obliviate curse did, he knew of the Ministry Obliviators, who would remove the memories of muggles who had seen or come across anything magical. If witches and wizards could do that, why not the even more powerful angels?

"Eat your food, John. Harry, go take a bath and get into bed." Bobby ordered.

Harry groaned, but ultimately did as he was told. He packed up his stuff and left to allow the 'adults' to talk without him there. John was obviously going to tell them more about the demon he'd been chasing. The one he'd spent the last two decades chasing even. Harry would be of no more help, he didn't know enough about demons…yet.

Hermione answered him while he was in the bath, assuring him that she would look for the books he wanted and send them on to him. She was going to Diagon Alley soon and with his deposit box he would get them within a day or so. They would hopefully arrive with his school books and assignment sheets that he had to complete.

Harry did feel sleepy as he got out of the warm bath, dressing himself in pyjamas and getting ready for bed. John had come later than expected when he'd said a few hours, apparently a few hours to him was five and a half.

Harry climbed into his bed. Hedwig was already gone from the room, off hunting frogs and mice, and whatever else she could find. He squirmed around a little in the cool sheets, enjoying the soft breeze coming through the open window.

He wasn't overly tired, and every now and then he could hear Dean's voice rising from downstairs. Not enough to make out words, but enough to know that he was angry at something. He reached for his book and cracked it open. It was nice to see John again, despite that he was still angry, still scared, of what had happened at that hospital. The Shtriga was dead now though, and John had been the one to save him after all. It didn't really make up for using him as bait, but it helped that Harry had missed his gruff affection and rough hands ruffling his hair.

John tiredly clomped up the stairs a few hours after his boys. He and Bobby had sat up discussing the sorts of books that Harry had had access to, and where the hell he had gotten them in the first place. The very fact that he had, by his own admission, pulled these books from the shelf of a shop back in London was inconceivable to them both, as most informational books like those that Harry had were handwritten by individual hunters. Yet Harry did have those books, and now he had apparently sent his friend instructions to get them more books about demons and such that most people considered to be a mere fantasy.

Bobby had been unable to find anything like those books online, even when he searched for specific London shops, and a google search of the book titles came back with zero results.

It was a mystery, but he was glad for any information about the yellow-eyed demon Azazel, no matter where it came from. A Prince of Hell. John felt bone deep weary as he even thought of it. Sadness too as he knew he had lost his beloved Mary to that thing.

He washed himself up, changed his clothes for loose sleeping pants, before he quietly slipped into the bedroom he shared with Harry. He couldn't help the smile that formed as he saw Harry, his youngest child, sleeping peacefully in the bed.

The blankets were twisted, and John used that as an excuse to tuck him in properly, straightening them out and smoothing the blankets over Harry's skinny body. The black rage descended as he thought about everything he had learned about Harry's living conditions, and the result of it. He could have lost his fifteen year old boy because the people he'd been left with had abused him so severely that he could have died from it.

His fist clenched and he moved away from Harry lest he wake him. He was close to finding the yellow-eyed demon. He was close to killing it for good. He had one bullet left in the colt, but if Harry could find another way, any other way, that they could use as a backup plan, that would be more than he'd ever expected, and it would ease the pressure of having just one bullet left.

He turned down the covers to his own bed, before he heard Harry let out a soft whimper.

John turned straight back to him, trying to ignore how the open window caused such a massive security breach. He stroked rough fingers over Harry's soft face and shushed him gently.

"You're safe, Harry." He whispered.

Harry whimpered a little more and rustled the sheets.

"Nothing is gonna get you while I'm here." He assured his son, carding a hand through the jet black hair. "I won't let it."

"Promise?" Harry mumbled sleepily.

John looked at him then, but his eyes were still closed, his face still relaxed. Harry was still asleep and he sighed heavily.

"I promise." He said seriously. "You're my boy. I'll protect you from everything. Give you the tools and information you need to look after yourself. Though I doubt your brothers will ever let you lift a finger."

He chuckled then, softly, as he tried to imagine Dean, or Sam, giving Harry the room he needed to forge his own way in life. There was no way those two were going to leave Harry alone, or let him muddle through and make his own mistakes.

No. Harry was going to be rather sheltered and he would be doted on. He had already lived such a harsh life, and he was still so very young. John closed his eyes to breathe through the anger that caused, as he tucked Harry in yet again.

He'd been told that Harry had nightmares, ones where he screamed himself awake on most nights. Bobby had said as much in his daily updates when he called to see how Harry was, but he'd also said that they had been getting better now that Sam and Dean were back with him. Of course his boys would forge on ahead and make Harry feel safe and protected enough that he started sleeping a little better. He hoped that his presence also helped to soothe Harry in whatever way his boy needed.

A little under two months, that's all the time he'd known this little boy and John sighed heavily, moving back to his own bed and climbing in. Harry was changing him. He was changing his single track drive for revenge.

For the first time in years there was something more to him. There was something more waiting for him at the end of the journey. A bright spot in the darkness, and John realised he'd needed that little blot of light more than even he had realised. He'd needed a reason to keep carrying on, and a reason to keep him rooted to life.

He had been willing to give his soul to save Dean back in the hospital, after that encounter with Azazel and the almost fatal lorry crash that followed. Dean had almost died, he had been willing to sacrifice everything to make sure that Dean lived, even himself and the colt, but Dean's innate strength had pulled him through in the end, and John hadn't needed to do anything to save his boy. He'd had everything he needed to summon Azazel to him to make the deal, and he was so grateful now that it hadn't been needed. He wouldn't have met Harry if he had made that deal and he had to breathe deeply through the strange pain that brought him. He didn't want to imagine not knowing Harry now.

He'd never been the most loving father, he'd been more like a drill sergeant to his boys when they had been growing up and he already knew he'd put way too much pressure and responsibility on Dean's young shoulders. That said he did honestly care a great deal for his boys, all four of them. Dean, Sam, Adam, and Harry. His four boys.

John rolled onto his side so that he could look over and see Harry in the dim light of the open window. He had a hunt planned, and he couldn't do it solo. He needed Dean and Sam with him, but they'd already warned him that Harry wouldn't be left behind. They had told him what Harry had said about him having enough of no one wanting him. It broke something in him to hear how much Harry had gone through in such a young life. How frightened he was of being a burden, or pushed onto others like Bobby, or even just getting in the way and not being wanted.

He was going to have a talk with him in the morning about this hunt, and leave the decision up to him if he wanted to come or not. He would make the damn motel room a veritable fortress against anything and everything if he had to. Harry was not going to become a target for these damn monsters again.

Harry woke up feeling well rested and full of energy. He blinked in the bright light and rolled over to see the sun streaming through the window. It was later than he usually got up, and well after the rest of the family had already gotten up. John was already gone, his bed neatly made.

Harry yawned and stretched, before sitting up and throwing the blankets from his body. His first stop was the bathroom, and then the kitchen. The people he had come to see as his family, and he definitely included Bobby in that too, were sitting around the table with coffee and empty polystyrene containers.

"Sleep well?" Sam asked, smiling so sincerely that Harry beamed at him.

"Yeah."

Harry went and hugged Sam, who would always welcome him and hug him back tight.

"Here's breakfast, sleeping beauty." Dean told him, fetching more polystyrene containers while John stood and went to the counter to get Harry's morning supplements.

Harry had pancakes, bacon, and fruit salad. He stabbed at the former with his fork, leaving the fruit salad for last.

"You okay?" Sam asked worriedly, watching him.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, just trying to wake up. I slept deep last night and I'm a bit groggy."

"Must have needed it seeing as it's already nine."

"I don't think I woke up once."

"You didn't." John assured him.

Harry came around a little and ate his food, and he relished the fruit salad. He especially liked the orange cubes.

"What are these?" He asked Sam, holding a cube on his fork out to his brother.

"Melon."

"I like it." He declared, popping it into his mouth.

"More than pineapple?" Sam teased.

"No, pineapple is the best, but I like this too."

He didn't notice the looks being sent over his head, a mix of angry and sad that he didn't know what melon was.

Once he'd eaten, he was watched as he took his supplements, and then he was free to change into jeans and a tee-shirt and head outside. His favourite place to be.

Of course he had babysitters in the form of someone coming out with him under the guise of doing something else, but he didn't mind. It was nice to be wanted, to be looked after in such visible, obvious ways.

The first thing he did, as he did every morning, was fill up the birdfeeders from the large tubs of seed, suet and mealworms that Bobby had bought for him and then he changed all of the water containers and the bird baths.

It was fulfilling to him, as he saw the birds already waiting for him. Normally he would have had this done an hour ago, but he had slept in.

"I'm sorry I'm a little late today." He told them, smiling as he worked. "I haven't been sleeping well, but last night was a good night!" He said happily. "No nightmares, and I slept deep."

He got to sit under the birdfeeders, and watch as it was used. The birds had come to see him as non-threatening, so they didn't mind coming close to him. He was smiling happily, even as he was watched from Bobby's porch by Sam.

His morning was peaceful, spent watching the birds, and then once they had calmed from the mad morning rush, he went searching for other things to entertain him. He was surprised to find something he couldn't immediately recognise, and he scooped it up into his hands. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, as he looked at the winged bug that was the size of his hand.

"Sam?!" He called out, hurrying the insect to his brother, who had snapped his head up in alarm.

"What is it? Are you okay?" Sam asked him urgently.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What's this?" He asked, thrusting his hands out to show his brother.

Sam's shoulders slumped. He chuckled. "That's a cicada."

"Cicada." Harry repeated, looking at it closely. "We don't have these in Britain."

"Think yourself lucky, they're loud."

Harry grinned and studied the large bug. "I like it."

"Of course you do." Sam said, shaking his head. He was smiling through. "I'll tell you what, I have an idea."

Harry looked up at him curiously. "What is it?"

"Well, every so often me and Dean have a prank war."

Harry's grin became devilish, as he caught on immediately. "I like prank wars." He said.

"Really?" Sam asked, sounding surprised.

Harry nodded. "Are we hitting Dean?" Harry asked eagerly. "Does he not like cicadas?"

"He doesn't. He hates them."

"The Impala!" Harry said, turning to look at the car. "We can put it in the car and make him go and get lunch."

Sam laughed. "I was thinking we just go and throw it in his face, we don't want him crashing after all."

Harry's face fell. "Oh, no, that would be terrible."

"Just go and show him, people a mile away will hear him screaming."

Harry's grin was actually frightening, and Sam was glad that he'd gotten in the first hit, because seriously, he did not want to be on the receiving end of it.

"Won't he be angry?" Harry asked then, worriedly.

Sam waved him off. "Nah. Our prank wars can get out of hand, but he'll know immediately that this is us declaring war."

Harry let out a giggle and Sam grinned. He followed as Harry took the disgusting bug inside Bobby's house. He could barely control his laughter. He couldn't believe that Dean's idea of a prank war was actually something that Harry wanted to do.

"Dean! I found something to show you!" Harry called out.

"What is it? If it's a freaking wasp you can keep it."

"It's not a wasp. Here, take a look."

Sam laughed as he heard Dean screeching and knocking over furniture. He couldn't help it as Harry threw the cicada on Dean's chest, and the damn thing spread its wings and flew right at his face.

He went to Harry and clapped a hand on his shoulder, grinning down at him.

"Buckle up, Dean. Prank war has started." Sam told him, laughing as his brother lay sprawled on the floor. "I think that's first blood to Harry."

Harry giggled and he once again had the cicada back in his hands, having rescued it from Dean's flailing

"Damn it! We said we'd wait." Dean grumbled, looking at the insect in Harry's hands warily.

"I saw the perfect opening." Sam said, still laughing.

"You boys aren't starting that up again, are you?" John asked, sitting watching them, but he was smiling too.

"We never stopped." Sam told him. "Every few years we start again."

"Who's winning?" John asked.

"Me!" Both Sam and Dean said together.

"Come off it, Sam. I'm obviously winning!"

"No way!" Sam declared. "You're the one who called a truce last, so I'm winning!"

"It doesn't matter." Harry said, giving them a shy smile. "I'll be beating you both soon."

"Oh, fighting talk. I like it." Dean said. "Better watch out, Harry. Me and Sammy are pros."

"You're the one sprawled on the floor because of an insect." Harry pointed out, thrusting his hands out and waving the cicada at Dean, who recoiled back.

"Get that thing outta the house, it's disgusting."

Harry looked shocked. "Don't say such things." He pouted. "Don't listen little cicada, you're not disgusting. I'm sure you do such a good job looking after the ecosystems around here." Harry cooed to the bug. "Come on, we'll go back outside now, but we'll get him again later." He added with a sly look to Dean.

"You better not!" Dean called after him. "I mean it, Harry. There'll be no mercy in this prank war if that thing comes near me again!"

They just heard Harry cackling as he left the house and Sam almost felt afraid.

"So, prank war, huh?" John asked them with a smirk.

"We thought it might be a good way to sort of force him into bonding with us." Dean shrugged uncomfortably.

"I hope you boys are gonna go easy on him." Bobby told them.

"He just threw a freaking cicada on me!"

"Considering some of the things I've heard you boys have done to one another, I think throwing a bug on you is tame." Bobby pointed out.

"I hate those things." Dean said, shivering.

"We need to get ready for his next plot. He is surprisingly on board with this." Sam told Dean with a grin.

"Thanks for the heads up." Dean complained.

Sam laughed. "He didn't leave me much time. Honestly, you should have seen his face light up at the mention of a prank war. So get ready, Dean, you're getting it from both sides now."

"You get ready, I'm gonna take you both out." Dean promised.

"Looks to me like Harry has the upper hand." John said with a smirk. "You two be careful with him."

The both nodded, recognising the order for what it was, but Sam's thoughts were that maybe their dad should have given that warning to Harry. He got the feeling that he and Dean were going to be looking over their shoulder for a while to come, waiting for Harry's next move.

A/N: Oh, prank war is coming, lovelies. Poor Sam and Dean, they have no idea what they've let themselves in for.

Now, I've had some questions about the American magical communities, and MACUSA, but in this fic, they don't exist. This is a Harry Potter crossover, not Fantastic Beasts, and truthfully I don't think it would work if MACUSA was a thing, would they allow muggles to run into magical creatures and just do nothing considering their stance on No-Majs? How would hunters play into it if there were magical communities in America? So no, I've cut out Fantastic Beasts and gone with just the HP novels, and for this crossover there is nothing close to an established magical community (or government) in the Americas.
In this America magic is wild, feral almost, that's why their creatures differ from those in the HP canon so much, the magic 'twists' them, and it's why I'm saying there are no magical communities in America. Natural magic users go there for short holidays, but as Hermione told Harry in the last chapter, the creatures can sense the magic and are drawn to them so they can feed on them…they choose not to live in the Americas, or set up any communities, because of that constant danger. Harry is going to have his work cut out for him dodging everything that wants a piece of him, either for his magic, or his Winchester blood.

TL;DR: There is no MACUSA in this fic, no Ilvermorny, and no magical communities in America as I felt it didn't work with the Supernatural fandom, or the concept of hunters.

StarLight Massacre. X