In the end, Harry had headed toward a cosy looking diner not too far from the motel. His ankle was throbbing and the brief burst of energy he'd had upon waking up had flagged. Deciding he'd be better off getting some food before deciding his next move, Harry pulled himself into one of the booths furthest in the back. He positioned himself with his back to the wall and with perfect view of the entrance.

A bubbly waitress was quick to come over and greet him.

"Hi, my name is Miranda and I'll be your waitress this afternoon." She introduced herself. And Harry pretended not to notice the frown and contemplative look she threw him as she handed him a menu. He knew he looked more than a little worse for wear, and could only imagine what he smelt like after days of not bathing, not to mention hiding behind a dumpster last night.

"Need a few minutes to decide?" Miranda asked, brining Harry's wandering thoughts back to the menu in his hands.

"Er, I'll just get the bacon and eggs with a side of toast. And a coffee." Harry rattled off quickly. He waited for her to take his order but she remained standing there. "Is there something wrong?" Harry asked, looking up.

"Listen, kid, I don't mean to be rude, but this is a paying establishment. You do have money, don't you?" She asked as kindly as she could. Harry flushed red to the root of his hair as he dug in his filthy jeans pocket for his wallet. He pulled it out and opened it enough to pull a handful of American notes out into the open. "Right." The waitress smiled, her bubbly personality bouncing back into place. "So, that was a bacon and egg, side of toast and a coffee." She recited.

Harry nodded and waited for her to move away before he let his head fall back against the wall with a muted thump. Without his permission, Harry's eyes fell to half lidded as his mind wandered. He was brought out of his daydream quite suddenly as the waitress returned with a mug which she proceeded to fill with coffee.

"Milk, sugar?" She asked. Harry mutely shook his head. He didn't bother to move from his slouched position other than to bring a scraped, dirty, hand up to hold the warm cup.

Harry's attention went to the front door as the bell rung signalling new customers. His heart sunk slightly at seeing none other than Sam and Dean come in. The two men seemed deep in conversation with one another and didn't seem to have noticed him. Harry sunk down in his booth and hoped the two men wouldn't notice him.

His hopes were dashed as the waitress came back.

"Bacon and eggs, and your side of toast. Anything else, hun?" She asked brightly, and oh so very loudly. Harry winced as he glanced toward Sam and Dean, only to see the two men looking back at him.

"No. Thank you." Harry said with a sigh. He hunched over his breakfast as he began eating. He couldn't say he was at all surprised when seconds later the two men slid into the booth opposite him.

The three of them sat in silence as Harry ate his breakfast. The two men had their own breakfasts ordered and delivered to them before anyone spoke.

"Your parents alive, kid?" Dean asked rather abruptly. Harry nearly choked on the toast he'd been chewing. He hunched his shoulders further and offered no reply. "That a no then?"

"You're clearly British by the sound of your accent." Sam said when Harry still did not speak or look up at the two of them.

At this Harry looked warily up at the two men. "So?" He asked carefully.

"So, what are you doing in the States?" Dean asked, eyebrow raised.

Harry shrugged. He figured telling them the truth about this at least couldn't hurt much, right?

"I'm looking for my dad." Harry told them. He didn't appreciate how timid his voice came out at the admission.

"And he's in the states?" Sam asked curiously.

"Apparently." Harry sighed. He met their eyes for the first time since the conversation first started. "Like I said before, I appreciate what you guys did for me, but I'm not looking for anyone's help. I can take care of myself." Harry told them, his chin jutting out stubbornly.

"Alright." Sam agreed while Dean didn't even have the decency to try hide his snort of amusement. "Look, if that vamp was after you because of your dad, odds are he's a hunter. If you tell us his name we might be able to help you track him down." Sam offered.

Harry eyed them both. "Why are you so insistent on helping me?" Harry asked cautiously.

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're what? Fourteen?" Dean asked, eyeing him up and down.

"I'm nearly sixteen!" Harry protested, crossing his arms as he glared at the shorter of the two brothers.

Dean waved his hand as if dismissing Harry's words. "So you're fifteen." He said. "What kind of people would we be if we let a fifteen year old go wandering around the country without at least making sure he got some place safe?" Dean asked, eyebrow arched.

"You'd be the kind that didn't stick their noses in other people's business." Harry bit back somewhat harshly. He'd always hated being looked down on as a child. Sirius had been the only adult to treat Harry like he wasn't a complete idiot. A pang of grief and sadness sucker punched Harry so hard in the stomach he had to look down lest Sam and Dean see the tears that had suddenly sprung to his eyes.

He had no way of knowing that both brothers had already seen the look on his face, and were already exchanging concerned, and somewhat baffled, looks.

"Well, you see, that's just not us." Dean joked lightly. "If there's one word that describes Sammy and me, it's nosy." Dean continued. He was rewarded for his efforts as Harry let out a snort.

"Fine." Harry sighed. He looked up to meet Sam and Dean's gaze. "I'm looking for a guy called John. John Winchester." Harry said. He noticed the odd way both Sam and Dean had stiffened in his seat. "His last known address is in Kansas, but I couldn't find anyone who knew where to find him. Do you know him?" Harry asked. He eyed both brothers carefully, wondering at the strange reaction they gave to the name.

"Is this some kind of joke?" Dean hissed. Harry turned to him, surprised at the sudden hostility.

"Dean." Sam said warningly.

"No, Sam." Dean bit out sharply. His glare never left Harry.

"I- No. No of course it isn't!" Harry protested. He looked from one brother to the other in confusion. "I don't-, Do you know him?" Harry asked somewhat eagerly. From the expressions on both their faces he could only assume they did.

"Know him? We're his sons!" Dean spat.

Harry found himself flinching back. His eyes were wide as he stared at Dean. Slowly he turned his attention from Dean's glare to Sam's considering gaze.

"You're-," Harry swallowed uncomfortably. In all honesty, Harry hadn't actually considered the possibility of siblings. He'd hoped to find John Winchester, but even then Harry still wasn't sure what he was going to say to the man. Nor was he sure exactly what he wanted from him.

"Dean, calm down." Sam ordered his brother, keeping his voice low.

Harry turned to see Dean visibly glowering and mashing his teeth together.

"I'm sorry," Harry found himself saying to Dean. Dean… his big brother. Wasn't that a thought?

"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Dean snarled. His face was scrunched in confusion but it lessened the glower on his face very little.

"I-I didn't know. I didn't know you were-," Harry trailed off. He turned his eyes down to where his fingers tapped nervously on the table top. "I didn't know he had sons." Harry forced himself to say it aloud.

"Who are you?" Dean demanded, his voice sounding only slightly less hostile. Despite this, Harry still couldn't remove his gaze from where it had fallen on the table top.

"I already told you. My name's Harry, Harry Potter."

Sam sighed from his seat beside his brother. "Alright, well, this makes helping you find your father a lot harder." Sam said.

Harry's head jerked up to look at Sam. "What? Why?" He asked quickly.

"We don't know where he is. We've been looking for him." Sam revealed with a shrug. Dean glowered at Sam before turning back to examine Harry. Only now did both the older Winchester boys notice just how much Harry looked like their father.

"Who's your mother?" Dean demanded.

Harry crossed his arms and stared mulishly at Dean. He understood the older man was probably in shock, it wasn't every day you found out you had another brother, after all. But Harry and Sam had been faced with the same surprise and neither of them felt the need to act so rude.

"Her name was Lily. Lily Potter nee Evans." Harry told him.

"Was?" Sam questioned carefully.

Harry's gaze flickered away. He looked out the window at the carpark, noticing for the first time a sleek black muscle car parked not far from the entrance. Harry's eyes were inexplicably drawn to a rather battered looking, blue pick-up truck parked across the road from the diner.

"She died." Harry told them.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Sam said softly.

Harry shrugged without looking at them. "She died when I was very young. I- I don't really remember her." Harry mostly lied. It was true, he didn't really remember his mother. Harry hardly counted the last memories he had of her.

"Right," Sam sighed. And Harry could almost feel the taller brother looking from him to Dean and back again. "We should probably head back to the motel and figure this out." Sam said with another heavy sigh.

"What is there to figure out? We don't know where Dad is." Dean bit out. "We can't exactly take the kid with us, not with the job." And Harry could just tell Dean was shrugging his shoulders in a 'what-can-you-do' way. Clearly Dean's mind was made up. He wanted nothing to do with Harry.

"Dean!" Sam hissed.

Harry kept his eyes firmly locked on the outside world. He told himself he didn't care what these men thought. Brothers or not. They didn't know him and he didn't know them. So what should it matter?

Still, he couldn't seem to squash the hurt building up in his chest. What was so wrong with him? Why was it none of his relatives seemed to like him? Was he really so bad?

He supposed it didn't matter if he came to the states or stayed in England; if he met his mother's family or his father's; he was still nothing more than a freak. Something to be ignored or shoved in the cupboard under the stairs.

Harry straightened and dug his wallet from his pocket. He threw a few bills on the table, not even bothering to check how much was there but knowing it'd more than cover his breakfast. Standing to his feet, Harry grabbed his backpack.

"Harry, wait!" Sam pleaded, his hands raised.

Harry didn't turn to look at him. Instead he stared straight ahead. "Dean's right, you can't just take me with you. I don't know what I expected, really. This whole thing was a mistake." Harry forced the words past his tight jaw. Without another word he limped his way out of the diner.

He wasn't even surprised when neither Winchester brother moved to stop him.