Chapter 15

The trio retired to Remus' chambers and warmed themselves by the roaring fire. They talked excitedly about their encounter while drinking hot cocoa. It thawed them thoroughly on the inside while the blaze did the rest.

"That was brilliant, Dean, absolutely brilliant!" Remus said, patting Dean on the shoulder.

Sam smiled at his brother. "That was crazy!"

"Did you see it when it just reached up and was like . . ." he mimicked the scorpion tearing the Dementor in half with a ripping sound effect.

Remus sat on the edge of his desk. "I have never seen anything like it, Dean. Nor have I ever heard of a scorpion Patronus before."

Dean grinned goofily. "Well, I do love The Scorpions." he said and took a swig of his cocoa.

Remus blinked and cocked his head to the side not understanding his reference.

Sam seized the moment to explain. "Oh! The Scorpions are a band from our world."

"Ah! I see." Remus said nodding.

Dean leaned back into the comfortable chair and began to relax. Truly relax. Being able to fight off a Dementor, which is pretty nasty in its own right, was quite an accomplishment. But knowing he did it in the most kick-ass way possible, made him feel like his old self again.

"So, what makes a Patronus take animal form? Is it like a spirit animal?" Sam asked.

Remus' eyebrows lifted. "That is an excellent question, Sam!" He stood from his perch on the edge of the desk and walked over to a bookshelf. "I have a book on the subject here somewhere if you would like to take a look at it."

"Yeah, I'd love to." Sam said.

Remus found the book he was looking for and removed it from the shelf. He blew across the cover which erupted in a puff of dust that hung heavy in the air a moment. It dissipated into the shadows cast by the fireplace where it became one with the dark.

Sam took the book and eagerly thumbed through it.

Dean looked content. Lazily he looked at Remus and spoke. "Well yours was obviously the wolf."

"Yes, you could say that the wolf is my, spirit animal, as you put it." he chortled in response. "It's more of a spirit guardian, really."

Sam read from the book out loud. "It says here, The Wolf is a strong symbol of loyalty and patience. It is rooted deeply in the importance of learning through teaching, new ideas, freedom of the mind and body, and responsibility for self and others."

"Hmm." Dean said, nodding slightly. "What about your owl?"

"The ooooowl . . ." Sam said skipping back through the pages. "The Owl – Wisdom through learning and experience gives us the vision to see and navigate anything we come upon, no matter how dark or foreboding. Owl people tend to be secretive and complex, often preferring the solitude of their own thoughts to general interaction, though when they so choose, they make excellent teachers and spiritual guides."

"Accurate!" Dean said. "I'll drink to that!" he raised his cocoa and downed the rest. "Oh hey, what about mine?" he said when he had finished.

"Scorpion . . . scorpion . . ." Sam said flipping through the book once more. "Here it is! The Scorpion is an emblem of strength, destruction, and self-protection. Scorpion people tend to have and aggressive 'shell', often being known as aloof and intimidating."

"Aloof?"

"Eh . . . kinda. . .The impressive defenses protect a soft emotional core. Ha!" Sam laughed and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Makes me sound like a charred marshmallow." he said.

The three laughed for a moment, then Sam continued. "Scorpion people tend to wield a lot of power but are reserved in its use, though they will not hesitate to retaliate if crossed. Now that's accurate!"

"So . . . I'm an aloof and moody marshmallow?"

"That 'bout sums it up, yeah." Sam chuckled.

"Well the important thing here, gentlemen," Remus interjected, "Is that you have accomplished an amazing feat! A full corporeal Patronus from each of you! I had a feeling that you would be able to pull it off."

"You did?" Sam asked.

"Well yes." Remus said matter-of-factly. "You may not be accustomed to this particular type of magic, but you are hardly strangers to the nature of it. From what Dumbledore has told me, you are adept in magic from your own world. However different it may be. I believe it has given you a . . . leg up, as it were."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Dean conceded. "I was worried that it wouldn't translate to be honest. I mean, the magic we use is ancient stuff from all over the world and it usually something, like summoning or banishing a demon, ghost, or an anti-hexing ourselves from some evil juju."

"I see." said Remus.

"We don't even know if the stuff we do will even work here." Sam added.

"Well, we can always test the theory." Remus said, obviously quite interested. "Next month I want to start teaching Harry how to make a Patronus, I think."

Sam nodded. "Good! Good."

"And your idea of using a Boggart to do it is brilliant." he continued. "But before I start giving him lessons, I want you both to come to my classroom. I want you to make a list of a couple of things you do on a regular basis in your world. We will test them out in a controlled environment and see if they work."

"That's all well and good, Remus." said Dean. "But, why? What would be the point?"

"Well, Professor Winchester," he started. "You will have to teach the students something at some point won't you?"

Dean raised his eyebrows in what was clearly an "Ah ha!" moment.

"He does have a point, Dean." Sam said. "I mean what else could we possibly teach them?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He promptly closed it again. "Well . . ."

Sam silently nodded and shrugged at his brother.

"Yeah, I got nothin'." Dean admitted.

"Okay, say a few things did work here. What would we even call the class? I mean, Remus already teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I dunno, uh . . . Monster Hunting 101?" Dean offered.

"Well their monster lore may even be different here."

"How about this?" Remus said. "We will meet every other night, you will teach me what you know about your monsters, and I will tell you about mine. We'll compare notes, and we can form a lesson plan around it."

"But doesn't your class cover monster lore already?" Sam asked.

"Well, yes." Remus confirmed.

"And what about Self Defense? These kids don't know a thing about hand to hand combat. They fight with magic sticks" Dean said.

"And we certainly can't teach them how to load salt rounds into a sawed off shotgun." Sam said incredulously.

"We shall figure it out, gentlemen." Remus said. "But for now, I suggest we all get some much needed rest and continue this conversation tomorrow night."

"Yes!" Dean said, clapping his hands together. "Sleep sounds amazing right now."

"Thank you, Remus." Sam said and shook his hand. "Thank you for everything. We wouldn't have been able to do this without you."

"Don't mention it. I'm glad to help." Remus said with a smile.

"Thanks man." Dean shook his hand as well.

Remus saw the brothers to the door and bid them goodnight. Once they were gone, he kicked off his shoes and walked over to the window of his chambers and looked out onto the gloomy, night shrouded grounds. He looked up into the sky and caught a glimpse of the moon once more as it poked through the clouds. The tiniest sliver of it remained bright and visible as it waned. By Wednesday it would be a New Moon. He sighed and climbed into bed, clothes and all.

Sam entered his room and grabbed a random book of one of the shelves he had made Draco alphabetize for detention. He tossed it onto the bed and read the cover as he disrobed. With a sigh which turned into a yawn, he got into bed. He retrieved the copy of Hogwarts, A History by his legs and began to read by the light of a single candle. His mind kept wandering away from the page. His thoughts were filled with ideas of subjects to teach. By the time he had read the same paragraph four times he decided to call it a night. He put the book down, blew out the candle, turned over on his side, shut his eyes and drifted off.

Dean lay in bed, staring up at the fabric canopy that covered his four-poster bed. He nestled into the mattress and pulled the plush covers up to his chest and tucked his hands under his head. He felt accomplished, like he did after a major job. He wondered how long they would be trapped here in this world, but at the same time, he really didn't care. This was the closest thing to a vacation they'd had in a long, long time.

He lifted his right arm out from under his head and held it out. He flexed his fist and watched the tendons tighten all the way up to where the Mark of Cain was on his forearm. Damn it, Cass! Dean thought, suddenly angry. How the hell was this more important? He took a deep breath. Now he had done it. He had gone and spoiled his own good mood. He exhaled slowly and put his arm back under his head. He closed his eyes and replayed the evening's triumph over and over again in his mind until he finally fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Dean dreamed. He and Sam were in the middle of the Great Hall giving a speech when all the enchanted floating candles near the ceiling suddenly snuffed themselves out and dropped out of the air. The torches on the walls followed shortly after and a ghostly wind blew through the Great Hall. Lightning crashed outside the windows and lit up the room enough where all the students had become different monsters. There were Ghouls, Zombies, Demons, Ghosts, Vampires, Werewolves, Skinwalkers, Wedigos, and Shifters. Everything he knew and hated. They were all around. He felt something weighty in his hand. He looked down and saw he was holding the First Blade.

All the monster-turned children stood from their house tables and focused their attention on him. He turned and realized that Sam had disappeared. Where had he gone? Was he ever really there in the first place?

Another flash of lightning outside the window and the children attacked all at once. Swarms of them, from every direction. He started swinging wildly. Slicing through wave after wave of his attackers, their bodies dropped and began piling around him. Nowhere to run. No use hiding. So he fought. The bodies piled higher and higher until he could no longer see. The remaining monsters over took him and he was buried under the weight of their slashing claws and gnashing teeth. He cried out in panic and it ripped him from his nightmare so suddenly he sat straight up in bed gasping for air. His brow was soaked with sweat and so were the sheets. He struggled to catch his breath.

What the hell was that about? he thought