Unfound

Chapter Forty-One

With a confident gait, Ketch strode into the building where Asmodeus had set up his court. He had a feeling the demon would be very pleased with him.

He headed straight to the door, ready to walk in when he was stopped by the demon who was guarding the door.

"No, no, no, no. Asmodeus is busy," he said.

"I have something of utmost importance to say to him," Ketch said.

"Don't care," the demon replied. "I'll let him know you're here, and when he's ready, I will come and get you. He's busy now.

Ketch scoffed. This was quite ridiculous. He wanted his reward. And they had a limited window to get this done. But he wasn't going to allow this demon to see how much this bothered him. He sat on a bench across from the door. "Might you have something to read?" He asked.

The demon went into the room only to return less than a minute later. "You need to wait."

"Fine," Ketch said.

He sat and thought of all the ways that he was going to use the rest of his payment and tried to look as distracted as possible.

The demon that had denied him entrance started talking to a second one who had shown up to also guard the door. Ketch suppressed an eye roll.

"Yeah, no way," the demon was saying, excitedly showing the second demon his smartphone, "This thing's amazing. Look, you just click on the kitty video. It loads, just like that. Look, napping in a sunbeam! Look at him! Look at this little guy. His little hat! Oh, yeah, I love cats."

The second demon seemed just as enamored with the cats as the first one. Ketch decided that now was as good of an opportunity as any to try and sneak in. He was not a patient man. Quickly and silently, he snuck in behind the demons.

Asmodeus was lying back on his throne, looking a little worse for wear. Next to him was someone injecting a needle into his arm. Asmodeus grabbed the syringe from the guy, smashed it in his arm, and threw it across the room. "No! Is that the strongest you have? Because it's not nearly enough…"

"Bad time?" Ketch asked, calling attention to himself.

Asmodeus stood from the throne and rolled his sleeve down. While he looked a bit like an addict shy of their next hit he didn't seem to have any trouble standing.

The demon guard ran inside. "My lord, I…tried to stop him."

"Did you now?" Asmodeus glared at him.

"Look, I have important news. I came as quickly as I could. If you don't want the infor – "

"Ketch, Ketch, Ketch," Asmodeus scolded, moving forwards toward the former Man of Letters. "My boy." He grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him back towards the door. "I think you need a little reminder. You work for me. And when I'm ready for you, I'll let you know."

"I'm not the help!" Ketch protested at the undignified way he was being treated. "This is a freelance contract."

Asmodeus ignored him completely, continuing to forcefully guide him towards the door. "So be a good lad…and wait."

His eyes flashed yellow as they reached the exterior of the room. Ketch glared at him – but he understood when he was outgunned. So, he sat back down on the bench. Asmodeus slammed the doors shut.

III

After spending an hour with the press and putting on his very best face, Harry was still not done with his day's events. But, at least, the next one would be a bit more private. More important. And not the sort of event that you actually wanted the press at because that just screamed of a political stunt.

Hermione had arranged for him to meet with the families and close friends of the victims. Some were those who had their loved ones die. Others were survivors – having been rescued just in time. Sadly, there were more of the former than the latter.

There were two dozen or so people in the room when he walked in. They all looked at him with wonderment as he entered, something that made him very uncomfortable. Ginny was next to him. They had decided that, for the purpose of optics, it was probably best not to have Hermione or Ron there with him.

"We've instructed them that you will come to each table individually so that you don't need to try and fight a mob."

Harry nodded gratefully. He approached the first family, which was a man with two teen-aged children. They reminded him sharply of the nieces and nephews he had visited with the day before.

The man stood almost at attention when he came over. "Please, let's all sit," he said to them.

They sat.

"This is Mr. Paul Amabilia and his children, Lina and Steven."

"Harry," Harry said, reaching his hand out to the man.

"We know who you are, sir," the dad said. "I can't believe you're alive. And here."

"I can hardly believe that myself," Harry said. "And, please, no need for honorifics here. I understand that you lost your wife," he nodded to the father, "and your mother, Sadie," he acknowledged the children.

"We did," Paul looked like he was having a hard time not crying.

"I'm very sorry for your loss."

"It's all because of the Ministry's shoddy dealing with these demons!" The older of the two children, the girl, said. "If they had just taken care of it properly, we wouldn't be here."

"Lina!" Her father said to her, horrified. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, it's just…"

"Harry," he insisted. He turned to her. "And I know something about rage. I once blew up half of Dumbledore's office in a fit of rage and grief."

They all gasped.

"Did you really?" Paul asked.

Harry chuckled a little. "Yes. And you know what he told me?" He asked Lina.

"How in the name of Merlin would I know that?" she snapped.

"You wouldn't, of course, he told me that they were only possessions. And that my grief was human. I told him that I didn't want to be human, then." As painful as the memory was, Harry now saw the wisdom in what Dumbledore had been saying. "Your anger is human, Lina, and you have every right to feel it. And you're only using words. You already have better coping skills than I did."

Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and he knew that it was time for him to move on to the next family. "I can't undo what those demons did," Harry said. "And there is nothing I can tell you that will help. But what I can do is track down the sons-of-bitches that did this to her and destroy them." He realized that he had been spending too much time around Dean for his brother's favorite swear to come tumbling out of his mouth. "Thank you for your time."

He got up to move. The little boy, Steven, tugged at his robes. Harry knelt down to his level to talk to him.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" He asked. Harry realized that he had misjudged this kid's age. He doubted if he was even a first-year yet.

"I am," Harry said.

"Only – Dad said that Mum died protecting us like you died protecting your friends and family. If you're back does that mean…"

Harry's heart sank.

"Steven," his dad said softly, shooting Harry an apologetic glance.

"No, I'm sorry, it doesn't," Harry said.

"Oh," the little boy said. The kid's logic wasn't bad.

"It was nice to meet you Steven, and you as well, Lina and Paul."

Harry left feeling as small as a worm and like maybe this had been the worst idea ever.

"It's ok," Ginny whispered in his ear. "It's not your fault."

Harry couldn't help but feel like it was.

He moved on to the next family. And the one after.

Finally, he got to the last one. It was just a woman with her daughter, who didn't look to be more than five years old.

Harry politely introduced himself. Ginny whispered in his ear which case this was. Harry knew now why they were last. All the other families had left after he had spoken to them.

"Janet?" He said to the woman.

"Yes, Mr. Potter," she said.

"My friends tell me that Edwina here suffered damage from the attack, but you found and fought off the demons before they could…"

"I did," she said, her eyes looking fierce. Her expression softened. "But I was too late. The Healers – they say that…they say that she may never do magic again."

"That's what I was told too. This is a longshot, but I do have some experience depleted magical cores," he said (more like depleted grace, but there was no need to go into it), "if you'd permit me, could I…" he reached out his hand to indicate that he was going to touch the girl's face.

"Ok," the mother agreed, although she looked uncertain.

"Edwina," he said to the little girl.

"Winny," she whispered.

"Winny," he said warmly. "May I touch your face?"

"Ok," she said, repeating her mother.

Two fingers up, Harry touched his hand to Winny's face, reaching out with his grace, grateful that it was there for him to use.

He did his best not to gasp at what had been done to this child. There was almost nothing left in this girl, even though the demons had only had her for a little bit of time. With his grace, he found the small bit that remained, and silently commanded it, grow.

And it did.

The little girl shuddered and shivered. Her mom ran forward and Harry a look of betrayal.

"Mummy," the little girl said.

"What did you do?" She demanded.

Harry staggered back a little both at her glare and a sudden feeling of dizziness.

"Mum, look," Winny said. She held out her hand, and in it, was a small ball of light. Harry knew that this was an early spell that wizarding families taught their children. Winny smiled and giggled. With a little wiggle of her fingers, she changed the color of the ball from white to pink.

"What? How?" Janet looked at Harry with wonderment.

Ginny looked at Harry with concern. He was looking pale.

"Just a little magic I had up my sleeve," he said. "She should be alright now. I – uh, think I've got to call it a night now."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," the mother said, still amazed.

"Harry," he corrected.

"Harry," she agreed, tears in her eyes. She was gently escorted out of the room.

"I don't feel well," he moaned. "Think I gotta sit down," he said to Ginny.

Ginny guided him to a chair. "What did you just do, Harry?"

"I fixed her," he said. "I couldn't bring anyone back and everyone here is so hurt, Ginny. But I could feel her grace and I knew I could fix it."

Ginny was about to say something more, but, before she could, Harry passed out.

III

"Why are you here?" Asmodeus asked. It wasn't quite rude – but it was teetering on the edge. The physical appearance of the demon had much improved. He was sitting on his throne, casually. Ketch was forced to stand directly in front of him.

"I have some news. About Potter."

Asmodeus leaned forward. "And here I thought you were just aiding me with their little clubhouse. Do tell."

"I did that as well. But I know where Harry Potter is and came at once."

The demon looked at his fingernails. "And just where is he?"

"The motherland," Ketch said. "It seems that he has returned to the UK. He was foolish enough to announce to the entirety of the wizarding populace that he is back."

"Hmmm," Asmodeus hummed, not looking impressed. "And what makes you think that I don't already know that information?"

Ketch blanched a bit. "I – assumed…"

"You assumed that you were the only Muggle with access to the wizarding wireless network? My, my, the news that Harry Potter is back from the dead made international news. Of course, I already knew. Now, do you know where he's staying? Because that would be useful information."

"I – don't," Ketch said. He had been banking on his knowledge of Harry Potter being back would be enough.

"I see," Asmodeus said. "Well, I can only hope that your other information is more useful to me. Tell me – what of this Bunker?"

Ketch straightened up, "I did as you asked. Everything is set up."

"That's excellent. And you're sure that the Angel and the Nephilim are not in residence?"

"No sign of them. I think they may be with Potter in England."

"In the future, you let me fill in the blanks," he said. "Clearly your intelligence gatherin' isn't as good as you think it is."

Ketch bristled.

"But enough about your inadequacies. Many though they are. It's time we talk about us. You see…I don't believe you understand the nature of this relationship."

"You pay me. I do what needs to be done. End of transaction," Ketch said in a clipped tone.

Asmodeus stood suddenly. "Yeah. See. No. It's more like, I own you."

"You don't ow – "

"And it's time you get in line, boy," the demon said, cutting him off.

"If that's how you feel. I believe I'm done here. Good day."

Ketch turned to leave but Asmodeus teleported behind him to block his path.

"You're done when I say you're done." He hit Ketch in the stomach, then the face, his face crinkling with laughter. Ketch put his fists up and tried to fight back but he stood no chance.

Using his demon magic, Asmodeus held Ketch, unable to move, on his knees.

"You're gonna learn, son. You do what I say…" He punched Ketch in the face, knocking him to the floor. "When I say," he kicks him in the face. Then he picked Ketch up by the back of his jacket and slammed his face into a pillar. "And if you ever think of sassing me again…" He picked Ketch up like a rag doll and threw him through a wooden table, which collapsed to the ground in splinters around the British man. Asmodeus stopped his attack and looked down at his white suit, now splattered with Ketch's blood. "Ah," he said, annoyed. "Look what you did to my suit."

III

It took almost no time to call for help and get Harry transported from the Ministry to Saint Mungos, where he was in a personal ward, being seen to by Ernie MacMillan.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were standing, nervously just outside the door while Ernie did his initial assessment.

"What did he say happened?" Ron asked for about the millionth time.

"I already told you," Ginny snapped. "He said that he could feel her grace and fix it."

"What the hell does that mean?" He asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Ginny shot back.

"Stop it, you two," Hermione said. It was usually her and Ron that bickered, but the siblings weren't immune to falling into the childhood roles of annoying each other. "None of this helps Harry."

"Who knows if anything can help Harry? You know what happened before Gabriel bound his grace – he told me, he almost depleted it to the point that it would have killed him," Ginny said. "I had no idea he had regained his powers back to this level. Did you two?" She accused.

"No," they both said at the same time, defensively.

"Ginny, we wouldn't hide something like this from you," Hermione said, wincing a little bit at her own words. At least not on purpose. Sometimes, especially before, it had been easy to forget that Harry had more than just herself and Ron to depend on.

"You three are always keeping secrets from me, what do you expect me to think?"

"Ginny, I really don't think that now is the time – "

Ernie came out of the room and all three of them crowded around him.

"I have to say," he started. "When I heard he was back, I didn't think that he'd wind up back in here so quickly. I didn't even have time to put a plaque above is regular bed."

"How is he?" Hermione managed to be the first to ask.

"He's not awake yet. But I think this is just a case of magical exhaustion. Although it's one of the strangest I've ever seen."

"What do you mean?" Ron demanded.

"His levels appear more-or-less normal. Above average, even, for a wizard, but because I was his healer before, I know that it is extremely low for him. But it shouldn't be enough to make him unconscious. It's as if his body requires a greater concentration of magic."

"That's probably the angel in him," Ginny said.

Ernie's eyes widened. "Goodness. I forget about that part."

"Can we see him?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, go ahead…" he almost didn't have enough time to get those words out before he was stampeded by the three of them as they rushed to get in the room. He rolled his eyes. Nothing at changed at all. He turned to join them in the room.

"He looks alright," Ron was saying.

"You know that doesn't mean much of anything," Hermione said. "Oh, what have we done? If I hadn't asked him to…"

"There is no way you could have predicted this, 'Mione," Ron said.

"Or this was always where it was going to end up," Ginny said. Her brother and sister-in-law looked at her. "This is Harry. What did we expect?"

"Alcoholism and crippling depression?" Ron suggested.

No one laughed.

"I hate to say it, but maybe his brothers were right to…"

There was a buzzing sound.

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"It's been happening every couple of minutes," Ernie said. "I thought maybe it was something to do with his magic."

"It's not magic," Hermione sighed with exasperation. She reached inside Harry's robes and into his pocket.

"Woah, Hermione, ask a bloke on a date first," Ron muttered.

"It's his mobile," Hermione said.

The vibrating sound stopped.

"Who was it?" Ginny asked.

"Sam," Hermione replied, frowning. "He's got 60 missed calls from Sam and 75 from Dean, I wonder…" The phone started vibrating again. "It's Dean," she said. "Hello?" she answered, and put the phone on speaker so everyone could hear.

"Hermione?" Dean asked. "Why do you have Harry's phone? Is he ok? Was he…"

"You got through?" Sam asked from the background.

"Yeah, gonna…"

"What's going on?" Sam demanded. "We've been calling for hours."

"Yeah, we can see that," Hermione said. "But you knew that Harry had…"

"Yeah, yeah, we knew. And we've talked to Cas. Is he ok?" Dean asked again.

"Well…" Hermione started.

"No," Dean said and it sounded like he slammed his hand on a table. "Don't tell me that…you were supposed to take care of him, I swear if…"

"Dean, he's alright. He's right here in front of us," Ginny said.

There was a brief silence. "Then why isn't he talking?"

Ginny, Ron, and Hermione exchanged concerned looks, not wanting to set Dean off again.

"Ginny…" Sam said.

"He's sleeping," Ron said, trying to skirt around the issue.

"Sleeping?" Sam asked, suspicious.

"Yeah," Ron said. "And you're disturbing him so…"

"Don't you dare hang up," Dean growled. "I know he's not that deep of a sleeper."

"Is he sleeping or unconscious?" Sam guessed.

"Unconscious," Ginny said at the same time that Ron said, "Sleeping."

"Great. Just great. What has the dumbass done now?" Dean asked.

"It's just magical exhaustion," Hermione said. "It's not unheard of for him, Ernie thinks…"

"Ernie's there?" Sam cut her off. "You've taken him to Saint Mungo's? You're not at Hogwarts?" There was panic in his voice.

"Well, he was in London when he passed out, so of course…"

"You have to get him back to Hogwarts," Dean said. "Like, an hour ago."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "I assure you that Saint Mungo's is the finest medical facility…"

"That doesn't matter," Sam said quickly. "It's public. Anyone can get in or out. You need to get him someplace safe. Quickly."

"We don't have him in the public section," Hermione said with annoyance. Why didn't Harry's brothers think that they had a lick of common sense?

"Great. Still – you can't cut access off. You need to get him to Hogwarts," Dean urged again. "And Sam and I are on our way to meet you there."

"We are?" Sam asked.

"Why?" Ron asked this time.

There was a slight hesitation. "Sam and I – we just got back from a case. Asmodeus is back from Limbo. And you just announced to the world where Harry is."

"Fuck," Ginny said. "Ernie – how quickly can you get an emergency portkey to Hogwarts? Is it safe to move him?"

"I wouldn't recommend it, but I assure you the security here is…"

Alarms blared in the ward.

"What is that?" Sam asked.

"Nothing good," Ron said.

"Don't try to apparate with him," Sam warned.

They heard a loud, angry sound on Sam and Dean's side of the line.

"What…" the line went dead.

That's when the dread really set in.

"I don't have an emergency portkey to Hogwarts," Ernie said. "And that alarm means that there is someone has torn through our security. But it has to be something really powerful to be able to get past our wards."

The door to the room shook and then came crashing down.

Ernie, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron, all moved in front of Harry's bed, wands out, ready to fight.

III

Castiel didn't like how worried Sam and Dean sounded. He decided to stop his research and go seek out Jack.

He found the young man in Neville Longbottom's office with the professor. The two of the appeared to be listening to the radio. "I know that we are facing very dark…" came Harry's voice.

"Castiel!" Jack perked up. "I tried to find you earlier, but couldn't. Harry's on the radio!"

"I can hear that," Castiel said. He realized that it meant, at least for the moment, that the middle Winchester was fine. He wondered what Sam and Dean were so concerned about.

"Shh," Neville said. "I want to hear."

The three of them listened to the end of the speech. It was well done. Castiel was impressed. He knew that Harry had been a leader, but he would be an excellent general for Heaven's armies. If Heaven had enough angels for an army, that was.

"You heard it here first," came a tinny voice of a reporter. "That was Minister Granger-Weasley announcing the return of Harry Potter. This is certainly not what we were expecting to hear at this press conference…"

Neville turned the radio off. Jack and Castiel gave him identical questioning looks. "You two really do look alike," he said. "The rest of that was just going to be commentary and I didn't think that we needed to listen to it. It's good to see you, Castiel, we haven't seen you roaming the castle much these days."

"I've been…busy," he said, not doing a very good job of covering up the fact that he didn't want to talk about it.

"You must be. In the library?" Neville's tone was curious, not pushy or judgmental.

"Yes. I find wizarding texts to be very interesting."

"Ah. Well, more power to you, then. What brings you here?" Again, the question was polite.

"I – I was wondering if Jack had heard from Sam and Dean," he said.

Jack cocked his head. "No. I haven't. Sam calls me every other day at 11 am unless he's on a case and cannot. Sometimes, Dean says hi."

Castiel frowned a little. He didn't like how little Dean had warmed to Jack. He didn't seem to be changing his mind during this separation.

"Ah," Castiel said. "Well. That's all I wanted to ask, I will…"

"Why don't you join us for tea?" Neville offered.

"Oh yes," Jack's eyes lit up. "Professor Longbottom makes great tea."

"No, thank you," Castiel said. While he had learned to tolerate the molecular taste of coffee for the sole reason of following human custom to order something in a restaurant, that tolerance did not extend to tea. "But I'll sit with you."

He had been so consumed by the secret library that he realized that he wasn't giving Jack the attention that he had planned when they had first come here.

Neville prepared the tea while Jack watched with rapt attention. "You know, he could just ask for it from the house elves, but he says that he likes to do it himself," Jack said.

The professor chuckled. "The house elves are busy preparing the castle for the students to return. Plus, there is something soothing in making a cup of tea."

With a couple of flicks on his wand, he poured and placed the tea in front of Jack and himself.

"I've not had much time to talk with you, Castiel," Neville said. "It's pretty incredible to have a real, live, angel in the castle."

"There are three of us," Castiel said. "I assumed that you'd prefer to talk to Harry about these things."

Neville shrugged. "You've got to be careful with Harry, you know," he said. "Not that I would ever say that to him, of course. Say the wrong thing and he'll think that you think he's a freak or that you don't like him anymore. I got the feeling that he doesn't really like talking about the angelic part of himself."

"All the Winchesters are like that," Jack said. "They don't like talking. It's one of the things I like most about Hogwarts. Everyone here is always happy to talk."

"What do you want to ask?" Castiel asked, wanting to skip over the issue of the Winchesters. It was true that his friends were not the most loquacious of humans. Dean, in particular, preferred to act rather than speak. It had taken him a long time to learn that.

"At the risk of sounding terribly rude, why don't you eat?" Neville had been dying to ask. He would have asked Jack, but that hardly seemed appropriate, as the young man seemed to have no problem eating whatever was placed in front of him.

"My senses are both a little too good and not good enough," Castiel explained, not offended in the least. "I can taste the individual molecules that make up each food and cannot taste them as a whole. So, while I can eat food, it is not a pleasant experience for me."

"Oh, I suppose that makes sense," Neville said. He wrinkled his nose. "I don't suppose I'd like food either if that was what it was like."

"I like food," Jack commented.

"You don't have the same…problem…as Castiel?"

"Nope," he said. "I know what he's talking about but I guess the human part of me needs food so I can enjoy it. I think that Harry's the same."

"You and Harry are the same?"

"Yes," Jack said, at the same time that Cas said, "Jack…"

"What?" Jack said. "It's not a secret here, is it? Like it was with Sam and Dean?"

Now Neville was intrigued. It surprised him to hear that Harry kept secrets from his brothers.

"Harry just said that to come back, he had to be an angel. And Gabriel did something to make that possible. He didn't go into great detail."

"He doesn't like to talk about it," Castiel said. "And I don't think he'd appreciate it we did without him," Castiel said pointedly to Jack, who just shrugged. "I'd like to learn more about you," Castiel said to Neville to change the subject.

"Me?" Neville asked, surprised.

"Yes. Most of the humans that I have interacted with for a great deal of time have been Hunters, it would be nice to learn more about your life."

The three of them talked pleasantly for the next couple of hours.

"It's almost time for dinner," Neville said. "I think we ought to head to the Great Hall, Jack…"

"Ow, ow, ow," Jack said. He held his head in his hands and clenched.

"What's wrong?" Castiel asked, suddenly on high alert. "Is it angel radio again? Demons? What is it?"

"No, it's not that…it's Dean. And Sam."

"Dean?"

"Yes. He's…ow, stop it!"

"Hold on," Castiel said. He pulled out his phone and dialed Dean.

"Cas!" his friend shouted. "It's about fucking time. Where've you been man? I've called you two billion times."

"I didn't know."

"Why aren't you answering my prayers? Harry isn't answering either."

"I – uh, turned off angel radio. Could you please stop yelling at Jack? You're hurting him."

"Oh. Yes. Well – hey, Sammy, stop praying, I've got Cas on the line."

"Finally! Do you tell him?"

"Not yet, I was just getting to it. Cas – Asmodeus has escaped Limbo. We're worried that he's headed to Harry. Please tell me you or someone else can fly to London and go get Harry and bring him to Hogwarts."

"I – I can't," Castiel said, knowing that his damaged wings wouldn't go that far. And no one could apparate in or out of Hogwarts.

"Just get to him – please! I'm gonna go so I can keep calling him."

"I'll do what I can," Cas said.

Dean hung up.

Both Jack and Neville were looking at him with big eyes.

"It's Harry," he said. "They're worried about him. Someone really dangerous, who wants him very badly, might be able to get to him."

"Who?" Neville asked.

"Asmodeus," Castiel said.

"The demon that tortured him?"

Castiel was surprised that Neville knew that.

"I saw him," Neville explained. "When we all went to fight the Men of Letters. Harry that is – not the demon. It – was bad."

"Sam and Dean say that he almost died from his injuries and his own dumbassery," Jack said both things as if they were equal factors.

"Jack!" Castiel reprimanded.

"That's what Sam and Dean said!" Jack said defensively.

Castiel had no doubt that it was true. Also, it wasn't Sam who had said it. "Neville, do you have a way to get to where Harry is in London?"

Neville paled. "The floo in the Headmistress's office might be connected to the Ministry, but Minerva is visiting her cousins this weekend, so we can't go there. Can't you fly there?"

"No," Castiel shook his head. "My wings haven't worked in quite some time. And I fear that running down to the village will take too much time…"

"I can go," Jack said.

"Jack – no, it's not…"

"I can do it!" Jack insisted. "Don't tell me that Harry wouldn't do the same for me."

"He would. But Harry is an adult and you are…"

"His family," Jack finished for him. "I'm going."

Before either Neville or Castiel could object, Jack was gone.

"You want to head down to Hogsmeade to see if we can meet them there?"

"Yes," Castiel said, very worried.

"Let's go, I can take us through one of the passageways, it will be a lot faster."

III

"What the hell?" Dean asked. "Did they just hang up on us?"

The lights had gone dark in the Bunker all that remained were the eerie red emergency lights.

"I don't think so," Sam said, looking at his phone. He held it up for Dean to see. "No signal."

Dean glanced down at his own as well. "Me neither."

"Gentlemen," came a voice from underneath one of their tables.

Sam and Dean looked and each other and then scrambled to get their guns.

"Uh uh, under the map that you two have so sorely squandered."

They went over. "Is that Ketch?" Dean mouthed to Sam. Sam gave him a grim look and a nod. Carefully, he looked under the table. There was a walkie-talking taped there. He pulled it out.

"Ketch?" Sam asked.

"Ah, you got in it one. Congratulations to the younger Mr. Winchester," the smug voice that they both hated so much came through.

"Youngest," Sam corrected.

"Quite so."

"We thought you were dead," Dean growled.

"Well, you know what they say when we assume? I assure you I am quite well. Or, at very least, a good deal better off than the two of you."

"What do you want, Ketch?" Sam asked, annoyed. Dean was walking away and up the stairs to try and see if he could get out.

"I'd like the elder Mr. Winchester to stop trying to escape," he said. Dean froze. "That's right, I can see you."

Dean swore.

"What do you want from us?" Sam repeated.

"Ah. Well, I'm afraid that I don't want a thing from the two of you. And neither does my employer. You two are almost entirely useless to us."

Keep him talking, Dean mouthed, continuing to work his way around the room, trying to make it look like he was pacing with fury.

"Yeah? Then why bother with this smoke and light show?"

"Oh, I'm so glad you asked," Ketch drawled. "While you are both useless to us in most ways, you aren't entirely without utility. You see, you are very dear to one Mr. Harry Potter. And he would be terribly put out if something were to happen to you."

"Winchester," Sam corrected, angry.

"Whatever. You see your Bunker is an excellent fortress. So excellent, in fact, that my esteemed employer cannot get to you there. But it is an even better tomb. So, whilst the two of you were off on a merry adventure, I used some very valuable knowledge extorted from your Mr. Lupin. Harry taught him well – he was so willing to give us all we needed to protect his poor little friend Claire."

Neither Sam nor Dean had heard anything about that.

"That won't work, Dean," Ketch continued, as Dean attempted to pick up one of the landlines. "You see, I not only cut off the wireless signal that allowed your mobiles to work. I also cut your landlines. Oh, and before you even try it, I also canceled your connection to the floo. You know, MACUSA was quite concerned that no-maj residence had access to such a thing. So concerned, that they were also convinced to place an anti-magic ward over your exact location. Just until they can come and investigate, that is. But they've been rather busy these days."

"Fine, we can't communicate. Except with you. Just tell us…"

"Oh, I'm not done," Ketch cut Sam off. "I also rejiggered the locks. And shut off the water. At one press of a button, the pumps that bring in the air shall reverse. Your oxygen should be gone in two days, maybe three. You're most likely going to die in here. Isn't that almost poetic, hmm?"

"Most likely?" Sam asked, trying not to panic.

"Oh yes. My employer is not entirely without mercy. He is, in fact, full of it. If the illustrious Mr. Potter agrees to surrender himself, we're going to tell him that we will let you go. Will we? Well, that's up to Asmodeus. By the time he turns himself in, he'll be kept securely in a cell, where he'll never have to worry about seeing either of the two of you ever again."

"And if he doesn't hand himself over?" Dean asked, praying that Harry did not.

"Then you'll die," Ketch said. "But I think we all know that he'll never allow that. Now. I have a flight to catch. Ta."

They were trapped.

III

Harry woke up in a…library?

The darkest library he had ever seen. All the walls were black and so were the books. It was extremely depressing.

He sat up from where he was lying on the floor.

This all felt very familiar. But in an unsettling kind of way.

"I've been waiting for you for far too long," a female voice said behind him. She didn't sound pleased.

Harry stood up and turned.

Of course.

"Billie," he said.

She cocked an eyebrow. "I'm surprised that you remember my name. You know – the old Death, he was very fond of you. I'm not quite sure why."

Harry considered. "Me neither. You know – he liked to meet with me this way too."

"Did he now?"

"Yeah – but he did it where I would be comfortable. Not to be rude or anything, but this place is like a sex dungeon meets a library. I'm sure some people are into that but…"

Billie narrowed her eyes. "I see that Dean's candor has rubbed off on you. Now, we can waste time having a little chat or we can get down to brass tax."

Harry crossed his arms across his chest. "Alright. I'm pretty sure that I'm not dead – or even nearly dead. I have a better sense of it now. How and why did you pull me here?"

"You're right," Billie said, not sounding even a little bit regretful. "I don't actually need you to be dead or nearly dead to call you to me. Even so, I knew I needed to be cautious, I didn't want to alert anyone else to this…meeting. You've been uncharacteristically careful. Your friends think you have magical exhaustion, but you don't. I wanted to talk to you and this seemed to be a golden opportunity."

"We can waste time having a little chat or…" Harry parroted back to her.

"Right. Brass tax, I promised," she said. "I see that you figured out what was blocking your powers. That's good. You don't have much time."

"I don't know that…"

"You're close enough. You and the boy are connected. I may find you and your family particularly flagrant with the rules and the balance of the universe, but I have no issues with your continued existence as long as there is a Yin to your Yang."

"Er – thank you?" Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"However, you and your brothers have created a whole other mess that I think you ought to clean up."

Harry racked his mind. He couldn't come up with anything. Other than – "Do you mean Jack?"

"No. Not the Nephilim. His existence and your own have to do with an entirely different set of annoying brothers. I'm talking about what has emerged from Limbo."

"Nothing has emerged from Limbo. We closed it up."

She glared. "Don't play dumb. You undid that with a different resurrection. And now, there is something truly abominable and unnatural that has no business being in any universe, much less on Earth. One has already made her way here. There will be more soon."

"That's not our fault!" Harry protested. "You just said that Jack's birth wasn't our fault."

Billie whacked him on the head. "It's not. Everything that happened before and after is, however. You Winchesters are all the same. Fix it. Or the damage will be irrevocable and permanent."

"Wait… what?"

Harry didn't have a chance to finish asking what in Merlin's name Billie was talking about before he woke up again.

"Damnit!" He yelled. He looked up – the four people in the room (Saint Mungo's, he figured out pretty quickly, were standing in defense of him.)

"Shh," Ginny said to him. Her face was pale and her eyes were wide.

"Stay down," Ron hissed.

Harry peered around him. It looked like the hinges had been pulled off of the door and in the hall, there was smoke and debris. He saw a figure standing there, he assumed the person his friends were trying to protect him from. He couldn't make out any features at first.

And then he saw glowing eyes.

Hello friends! Ao3 is down, so ff dot net only is getting this chapter right now.

First, thank y'all so much for the kind words from last week. I was feeling a little in the dumps from some reviews I had gotten. I try very hard not to feed the trolls, but I couldn't help myself from saying something in my defense. I really appreciate those of you who took the time to say something kind and make me feel better!

Second, the little ball of light made by the child here is a reference to one of my favorite fics – Realizations by Wishweaver. Just to be sure to give credit where credit is due!

Lastly, sorry for the slight cliffhanger! Please don't throw anything at me. I will be back next week – so you won't have to wait long to find out who those glowing eyes belong to. (If you haven't figured it out already.)