AN: Sorry for the long wait. The next chapter is written and I'll try to get it typed up soon. I hope you all enjoy. As always, I own nothing.

Chapter Five

Harry watched with vague distaste as the black Impala pulled up to the cheap no-tell motel. "Well, here we are!" The elder brother announced jovially as he parked the car next to one of the worn out buildings.

"And where exactly is 'here'?" The dark haired teen asked softly.

"Just outside of New York City." Sam answered him.

"Hmm." Harry sighed slowly. "So I guess she did bring me to America after all." He mumbled to himself as the two brothers got out of the car and looked at him expectantly. Gathering up his belongings, he followed them from the car. It was a short jaunt to the room, then they paused as Dean opened the door. Sam and Dean went in first then turned to watch Harry step over the threshold. When he reached the center of the room without incident the two brothers released a sigh of relief.

With a frown, Harry glanced back over the ground he had just traversed. A thin line of salt ran the perimeter of the room, undisturbed by their entrance. He looked back at the two brothers with dull curiosity in his eyes. "Effective." He commented. "What exactly are you trying to keep out?"

"Anything not human." Sam confessed. "We haven't exactly made friends with the various boogey monsters that haunt this part of the world."

"Boogey monsters?" The teen pushed.

"You obviously know about angels and demons." Dean said. "But what other supernatural creatures do you know about?"

"More than you." Harry answered simply.

"Doubtful." The older Winchester laughed. "Sam and I are hunters. If it's supernatural and hunts people, we hunt it."

"So?" The teen shrugged.

"So?" The darker brother echoed. "So who are you? How did you do that disappearing thing back at the apartment?"

"It's not a secret." Harry answered coolly. "Half of Europe knows I have it, but most of them don't realize what it is exactly." He said gesturing to the silvery fabric in his arms.

"So what is it?" Sam asked curiously.

"An invisibility cloak." Harry said. "It belonged to my dad, and he left it for me."

"An invisibility cloak?" Dean scoffed.

"Yeah." The teen nodded. "It's been in my family for generations. There's a legend that one of my ancestors stole it from Death.

"Not stolen." The three of them turned to see Azreal standing by the door. "Given. I gave Ignotus the cloak to hide him because most angels see nephilim as abominations."

"What exactly is a nephilim?" Harry huffed. "And why do you think I'm one?"

"A nephilim is a child born to a human mother with an angelic father." The angel explained gently. "And you aren't a nephilim, not truly."

"Then why the bloody hell-"

"You're descended from a nephilim." The angel confessed. "I had three children. My eldest son Emeric, my second son Loman, and my youngest child… Ignotus… you're ancestor. Emeric lost the wand I gave him in a petty fight and he was discovered. Loman also abused my gift. It was meant to call me should he find himself in danger."

"He had the Resurrection Stone?" Harry guessed.

"Yes." Azreal nodded. "His abuse of it drove him to madness and he killed himself. I let his daughter keep the Stone with the promise that she would never use it."

"And Ignotus had the cloak." Harry concluded. "When he died it was passed on to his son and on down until my dad gave it to me."

"Holy crap." Dean said softly. "So you really are Death's what? Grandson?"

"I'm not sure." The angel admitted. "Ignotus lived more three thousand years ago. Harry should be human, but Tom was Loman's descendant, and his madness effected both of you to the very core."

"Tom?" Sam frowned. "The guy that tried to kill him?"

"Tom Riddle wanted to rule the world." Harry told them. "He wanted to put 'lesser creatures' in their proper place. But mostly he wanted immortality."

"So what?" Dean asked. "Tom thought killing you would make him live forever?"

"There was a prophecy that Tom and I would kill each other." Harry spoke softly. "Makes it hard to live forever when an infant is prophesied to kill you. So he tried to kill me. But Tom screwed up. He tried to experiment with forbidden magic and in the process he fractured his soul and damaged mine." The teen elaborated painfully. "A small piece of his soul attached to mine, and he ripped a part of mine to use against me. But it was dangerous, forbidden magic. No one knew exactly how much damage had been done to both of us. When he killed me, the piece of my soul that he had stolen anchored me and pulled me back. But when he killed me he destroyed the shred of his soul that had gotten wedged inside of me. It was the last thing holding him here, so when his final killing curse backfired, it killed him."

"And that is what drew the demoness to you." Azreal informed him sadly. "Something of your heritage came through when you died and revived. When Lillith felt that, she came to explore and found you in possession of all three of my gifts. How could she not know who you are?"

The three mortals stared at the angel. "So, you're saying that because this Tom screwed with Harry's soul when he died his what? Angel gene took over and brought him back?" Dean asked.

Azreal frowned. "Yes and no. It was Tom's miscalculation that allowed Harry to survive, but the latent angelic nature certainly recognized a threat in Tom Riddle, but I cannot say how much of his angelic nature has risen to the surface because of their conflict. He's so far descended from my son Ignotus that he should have lived his life as a normal human."

"Why wasn't Tom effected?" Harry asked suddenly. "He was your descendant too. Why didn't this angelic nonsense make him stronger?"

"Tom willingly warped his soul. His magic couldn't recognize itself as a danger to itself." The angel sighed. "You were a victim of the madness that seemed to breed well into Loman's line. Every piece of your body and soul knew that madness as a threat."

"So how much will this angel thing effect him?" Sam asked pointedly.

"We'll know tomorrow." Azreal told them, closing his eyes. "True nephilim come to power on their eighteenth birthday, which is why Lillith imprisoned you on the eve of yours." He opened his eyes to look at Harry.

The green eyed teen frowned. "So I'm going to wake up tomorrow with wings?"

"It's possible." Azreal shrugged. "But unlikely. You may have some minor healing gift. Perhaps you may have the gift of tongues. I wouldn't expect you to have more than one or two of the most minor angelic gifts."

"I can live with that." Harry sighed.

"The real danger to you is that by tomorrow morning you will smell like an angel. I can already sense that you are not entirely human."

"You douche bag!" Dean growled angrily. "You're telling me that tomorrow morning this kid's gonna have a sign on his back asking every angel and demon to come and kill him?"

"How dangerous is that?" The teen asked cautiously, casting a dark look at the older brother before looking back to the angel.

"Our Father does not like us to procreate with humans." Azreal said softly. "In the lesser choirs he takes away their grace. I was locked away until the recent apocalypse. It will be dangerous, and you will be hunted, but Harry has been hunted his entire life." He said, glaring slightly at Dean. "My gifts will protect him to a point, but he knows how to hide and fight when he needs to."

Dean glanced at Sam and frowned at what he saw. "No! No way man!"

"But Dean, we could help! We could at least show him a few devil's traps."

The older Winchester glared at his younger sibling's begging eyes. "Fine. But just a few days! I'm not hanging some friggin' steak around my neck just to keep you happy." He finally conceded.

"I'll stay." Harry agreed softly. "But only until I can find out what's going on back home. There're too many things that I need to tend to there. Hell," his laugh croaked out loudly, "I don't even know if my houses are still standing or if there's any gold left in my vault."

Dean smiled greedily at the word gold, but then he sighed. A quick glance at the darkening sky outside the window had him wincing. "Crap. I need a beer." He sighed. "Sam, you stay here with Angel Bait and Az. I'm gonna make a food run."

NCF SD NCF SD NCF SD NCF SD

When Dean returned with the food Azreal was gone and Harry was drilling Sam on world events from the past six years. They paused at the sound of the older brother opening the door and rushed to grab the fast food bags from his hands as the door closed behind him.

"You kiddies been good?" He asked jovially. He smiled at his brother's pinched expression. The smile faded when he caught the younger man's stoic face. "C'mon, that was a joke." He said trying to get a smile. "Or maybe not." He shrugged when he was presented with dead green eyes.

"So," Harry and Dean turned to face Sam who was dishing out the cheap junk food, "Harry, why don't you tell us about yourself?"

"What's there to know?" The teen asked dully. "My entire life is probably a seven volume novel by now." He shrugged. "Lillith told me they wrote a book."

"Someone wrote a book about you?" the younger brother asked shocked.

"When your family is murdered when you're a baby and you miraculously survive, you make headlines." He said softly. "When you accidentally kill their murderer several times, people start to idolize you."

"What happened to them?" Dean asked curiously, earning a glare from his younger brother. "Your parents?"

"Tom killed them." Harry's voice was tired as if he'd told the story far too many times. "Tom heard that bloody prophecy and decided it meant he needed to kill me. My mum and dad found out he was coming for us and hid."

Sam frowned. "But if they were hiding how did he-"

"We were betrayed." Harry explained wearily. "One of my dad's friends told Tom where we were hiding. He came to our house on Halloween. My dad fought him at the door. It was a short fight. Then he came to the nursery. My mum was trying to stop him. I remember her begging. But he killed her too."

"Then what happened?" Dean asked, caught up in the story despite himself.

"He tried to kill me." Harry shrugged. "But the curse backfired and hit him instead."

"The first time you 'killed' him?" The younger Winchester guessed.

Harry nodded. "My mother's willing sacrifice made the curse reflect off of me. It should have killed Tom. But by then Tom's soul was already so severed that it only destroyed his physical body. He spent the next thirteen years hiding trying to get a new body."

"I'm guessing he succeeded?"

The emerald eyes flickered to the older brother as he nodded. "When I was fourteen he kidnapped me from my school and used my blood and my mother's sacrifice to create his new body. It restarted a war that we almost lost. In the end it was sheer dumb luck and damn Gryffindor stubbornness that saved us. It was luck that I mastered all three Hallows, and Neville's stubbornness in refusing to bow to Tom and my own stubbornness that I would face Tom alone in the end."

"Okay." Dean frowned. "What exactly are these 'Hallows' you keep talking about?"

"The three Deathly Hallows are the three items that the three brothers tricked Death into giving them. Only, according to the story, they were traps. An unbeatable wand that changes it's allegiance like a person changes socks, a stone that brings back the dead so that they can tempt you into joining them in death, and the greatest, an invisibility cloak that not even Death can see through."

Dean glanced over to the silvery cloak that Harry had left lying on one of the beds before landing on the ring sitting innocently on his left forefinger. "You said a wand too." He said carefully. "You mean like a magician's magic wand?"

The brothers watched as Harry's eyes widened in shock. He blinked a few times before speaking again. "Oh, bloody hell. Don't tell me you two are muggles." He finally huffed in exasperation.

"What's a muggle?" Dean demanded, offended.

"You are." Harry sighed. "No wonder you don't already know about all of this. You two are muggles."

"What the hell are muggles!" Dean all but yelled.

Harry shrugged. "In for a knut in for a galleon. A muggle is what my people call your people."

"What exactly do you mean 'your people'?" Sam asked slowly.

"I'm a wizard." Harry confessed. "My mum was a witch and my dad was a pureblood, nothing but witches and wizards going back for generations."

"You use magic?" The elder Winchester demanded angrily.

"I have to use magic." The young wizard said patiently. "I'm a wizard. I was born with magic. If I don't use it, it will use me."

"I've never met a witch with that problem." Sam said softly.

The teen laughed. "I'd wager you've never met a real witch. A real witch or wizard wouldn't tell you what they are."

"Why not?" Dean pressed. "Are you people afraid of getting burned at the stake?"

"Merlin no." Harry waved dismissively. "From what I understand that can be quite enjoyable with the right charms. No witch or wizard would ever tell a muggle about themselves because of the Statute of Secrecy. It's one of the few international laws we have. 'Don't let the muggles know about the Wizarding World'."

"Why not?" Sam asked. "What happens if muggles find out?"

"Mostly they become obnoxious. They want magical cures for everything and make pests of themselves." The teen grimaced. "Not all muggles of course. Some of the crueler ones will torture a witch or wizard until they loose control of their magic."

"I'd think that would be a good thing." Dean growled darkly.

He was met with surprisingly cold, hard, emerald eyes. "No." Harry said icily. "It's very bad. The magic doesn't go away. It's still there, but you no longer have any control over it. It will lash out every time you get scared or excited. Every strong emotion has unimaginable potential for harm and exposure. It's a dangerous and tragic thing that usually ends with someone in Azkaban of St. Mungo's."

"What are those?" The younger hunter asked quietly.

"St. Mungo's is one of the best magical hospitals in the world."

"And the other?"

Harry frowned at Dean. "It's the prison." He whispered. "We only have one because we only need one. It's haunted by the foulest, darkest creatures known to wizard-kind, and they are allowed to feed on the prisoners. Most people will do anything to stay out of it."

"So what happens to you?" Sam asked suddenly. "Aren't you breaking the law by telling us all of this?"

The teen shrugged. "Depends. They may just give me a warning. They might crucify me and sentence me to life in Azkaban. Merlin's balls, I'm Harry Bloody Potter; they might just pretend it never happened."