Chapter Two

The three men re-appeared inside an office in one of the smaller but higher towers of a very large castle in the highlands of Scotland. Dean grabbed a bucket beside the desk that he hoped was a trashcan as he let go of his in-flight meal.

"Ah yes," The old gentleman started, "Disapparating for the first time can have the effect on some people."

As Dean continued to release what was on his stomach, Sam looked around the office. The office was adorned with paintings of older people, each draped in cloaks of different colors, sitting in high backed chairs as they read books or wrote in scrolls or looked directly at the viewer. Cabinets filled with glass bottles and vials of all sizes, width and thickness of glass lined half the room and shelves of books stacked to the ceiling lined the other half. Behind the very large, ornate oak desk sat the same high backed and leather bound chair from the portraits along the wall.

"I think I'm alright." Dean said as he shakily set the trashcan back on the ground by the desk and stood up straight, "Where are we? Who are you?"

"I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the older man replied, "I am Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and we are standing in my office inside Hogwarts Castle."

"How is this possible?" Sam asked, more to himself but still trying to glean answers from anyone or anything that had them.

"How is it possible that we knew about you ahead of time?" Dumbledore asked, "Or how is it possible that - I'm assuming - you knew of us?"

Before any answers could be given by either man, the door to Dumbledore's office burst open as a man with jet black hair that stopped beneath his ears with flowing black robes walked in without so much as a "hello." Dean and Sam both instinctively drew a weapon - Dean drew his shotgun from earlier, Sam drew a small but wicked knife from his sleeve. The newcomer produced a black wand from the folds of his robes and took a defensive stance.

"All of you, put those down, please." Dumbledore ordered, "Severus, these men are here to help with our...problem. Gentlemen, this is Severus Snape, potions master, head professor of Slytherin house and friend."

Dean and Sam were the first to lower their weapons, Snape then slowly lowered his wand but nobody put their weapons away.

"Severus," Dumbledore continued, "These are the Winchesters, Dean and Sam. They're hunters...of a sort."

"Hang on there, Gandalf," Dean said as he took a step to the side, "We never told you our names."

"Easy, Dean." Sam said, although he never took his eyes off Snape.

"No Sam," Dumbledore started, "Dean is right. Neither of you told me your names. Call it intuition, call it foresight, call it being psychic, call it whatever you like. The fact of the matter is, we know you're the best in your line of work. That's why we called on you - albeit by our own unique means."

"Wait, that dream was from you?" Sam asked, now looking at Dumbledore.

"Dream?" Snape asked as he turned to Dumbledore.

"Ah, yes." Dumbledore said as if all he'd done was put the wrong dish in the sink, "It would seem I have some explaining to do."

Before anyone could say anything, a shrieking was heard echoing in the hall below Dumbledore's office. Sam and Dean took for the stairs like they had just been given a shot of triple espresso, Snape and Dumbledore weren't too far behind them. The Winchesters rounded the corner to see a group of teens in black cloaks with colored scarves huddled against the wall as a professor in a what looked like a graduation cap produced a creature made of white light from his wand to combat three hovering cloaked figures much like the one that attacked Sam and Dean at the airport. This one seemed different though.

The figure turned directly to Sam and Dean, seemingly unaffected by the wolf made of light that was attempting to attack it. It had glowing red eyes underneath a hood that seemed to whip around in non-existent wind, it smiled showing yellowing teeth that had all been filed to a point over time, the hands protruding from the cloak showed black claw-like fingernails. Where it's neck ought to be, something glowing yellow seemed to pulse for a second underneath the charcoal black skin.

"Master will be pleased." The creature said with a high but gravelly voice that certainly didn't belong on Earth.

"Yeah, if he ever gets to meet us." Dean said before he lifted his shotgun and fired the second barrel sending several fragments of pure rock salt directly into the cloaked figures face.

The figure shrieked in pain and clutched at its face as wisps of white smoke curled from under the hood. Before Dean could examine his work, the figure lifted its head - several glowing yellow holes burned in its face and neck.

"Master will kill both of you soon." The creature snarled, "Not worth my time."

The cloaked figure flew through the wall to its right and left nothing behind but the acrid smell of sulfur from getting shot. Dean turned to look at Sam who then pulled out their father's journal and began flipping through the pages.

"Who are you?" The man in the graduation cap asked.

"They're friends who are just passing through at the right time." Dumbledore answered the man in a tone that suggested that he shouldn't ask anymore questions.

"Dean, this thing isn't in here…" Sam said as he looked up from the journal.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked as he walked over to Sam and looked over his shoulder as he paged through the book again.

"I've gone through every spot where it should be," Sam started in reply, "I've paged through every drawing, sketch and note. I know this book better than the back of my hand, this thing isn't in here."

"Well, we better find out what it is fast." Dean said as he walked over to the wall the creature disappeared through, "Because whatever it is, it's tough as hell and to be honest - it's scary as shit."


Below the Hogwarts Castle, a gathering of several figures similar to what Sam and Dean fought - a dark cross between a Dementor and a demon - swarmed around a bridge of stone that crossed a chasm that descended directly to Hell itself.

On this bridge, a being sat with its feet dangling over the edge. Glowing yellow eyes blinked as the being scratched occasionally at its blood red skin.

"Master!" Shrieked the creature that Dean had shot, it's name was simply Small-One as he was the smallest of his group, as he came flying towards the bridge and to a stop in front of the yellow-eyed creature.

"Ah, so they're here I suppose?" The yellow-eyed creature asked in a voice that indicated it had seen eons of the world and learned well from it.

The creature stood, and turned to face the majority of the swirling possessed Dementors.

"Tonight, we bath in the blood of the Winchesters!" The yellow-eyed Master shouted out, to which the possessed all cheered and laughed as they swirled around the chasm.

The Master turned back to the scout, put his hand on the Small-One's face and a yellow light glowed through the wounds as they grew smaller and winked out of existence.

"Now fly off once more," The Master said, "We have work to do."


END CHAPTER TWO