Chapter 2: I Ain't Wearing That!

Yesterday Dean got a letter that might just tear up his family and now there's some old fella with the longest beard and hair he had ever seen standing in the door opening in some weird, blue dress. You know what? That's just great. Seriously.

True, they had sent the owl back with a letter claiming they weren't too sure what to make about all that, but to have a wizard on the doorstep the very next day without any warning whatsoever…

"Can I help you?" Dean asked him, the skepticism dropping off his voice. To his dismay, that only seemed to amuse the old man.

"I'm not here for your help, Dean Winchester." Dean directly straightened up by the mention of his full name, his hand inching toward the gun in the back of his waistband, but before he could ask anything, or rather demand answers, or even draw the gun, the old man continued. "I am Albus Dumbledore,-" Inwardly Dean snickered, does the guy even realize how stupid that sounded? Dumbbell Door? Hahaha! What a joke. However, Dean made damn sure none of that amusement seeped through on his stoic expression. "-I am the headmaster of Hogwarts and I am here to explain our world of magic. Then, if you decide to come to Hogwarts, I will show you where to buy your school supplements," he explained. They continue to stare at each other until another question popped up in Dean's head.

"Isn't explaining the magical world and showing around students a bit below the tasks of a headmaster?" he scoffed, saying it out loud made it sound even more ridiculous.

"Ah, perhaps. Originally Professor Flitwick would assist you, but he wasn't feeling that chipper this morning so I came instead," the ancient wizard explained with a small smile. "Now, may I come in? I think it's time for some tea," he stated. Dean couldn't help but snicker. Damn Englishmen and their tea… Albus looked at him quizzically but glanced over his head, into the room, when something fell down with a muffled thump. Instinctively Dean pulled the door closer to his side so he's pressed between the wall and the door, successfully blocking the wizards' view. "Where are your parents?" the wizard asked him a bit concerned.

"Dad's out, mom's dead," Dean answered with a careless shrug.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the Dumble-man said earnestly, his blue eyes twinkled softly behind his glasses.

"Dean, we're out of milk!" Sam shouted to him. Dean flinched, but didn't turn.

"I'll call Bobby and ask if he can pick it up, alright?" he shouts as he kept eye contact with the elder in front of him.

"But I want cornflakes now!" Sam whined. "I'm really hungry," he added in a murmur.

"I'm sorry, but this is a bad time," Dean informed the Dumble-man, hoping to get one conflict out of the way. "Can we reschedule this for, I don't know, tomorrow or something?" he asked. He wasn't too sure how he could solve both the issues at hand.

"Oh, I am perfectly capable to wait around for a bit and chat with you," Albus said as he revealed a glass bottle of milk and handed it to Dean. "I'm willing to drink it first if you don't trust it's safe," he declared after a short silence. After another "Dean, I'm really hungry," Dean caved with a sigh and pushed the door completely open so the old man could enter.

"Who is that?" Sammy asked a bit confused the moment the tall wizard came into his view.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, headmaster at Hogwarts, a school your brother might go to if he wishes," Dumbledore explained to the younger child. He let his eyes curiously but discretely wander through the room, and noticed all the different guns, ammunition, knives, and a couple of sharpened wooden sticks laying around as well as various emptied beer bottles and one empty Scotch. A little startled he reminded himself that those kids are clearly from the United States and it's more common to have a working weapon collection there, even though he still couldn't believe the weapons were scattered everywhere with only the two kids around. Then he noticed the many lore books sprawled in the room and the little boy in front of him had an old, Latin version of the Bible next to his bowl. Their father must be a supernatural hunter. Albus didn't know how to feel about that, he had never crossed paths with a hunter himself, but Alastor sure wasn't very fond of them.

"I'm Sam Winchester," Sam replied as his brother joined them, grabbed a glass, and poured some milk in it before he handed it to Albus. Sam's eyes grew wide. "You got milk!" he exclaimed happily to Dean, who just grunted. Albus smiled at him and downs half of the glass. He licked his lips, as if he contemplated something very important.

"Ah, that was refreshing," he informed Dean with a wink, but the child still sniffed at the bottle, suspicion written over his young face, and poured a little bit of milk in another glass. He emptied that one himself. A moment passed and then he handed it to his younger brother. If only I had been this protective as the older brother… Alas, not going there! Albus sat down at the dining table without waiting for the invitation and watched the youngest child now happily eating his cornflakes. Dean refilled his glass, this time completely, and sat down as a deep breath escaped him. Albus waited for the usual storm of questions, but there came none.

"I suppose your father is a supernatural hunter and you two are both very well informed…" He paused, eyeing Dean as the kid had shifted to sit up straight, his face hardened once again, and he seemed ready to attack or counter an oncoming attack. Not just informed, I see. "…But I am sure you still have questions for me?" he ended up asking, suddenly not too sure how much information they could have found on their own. Dean's lips tugged up in a giant smirk and he leaned on his forearms to get closer to the wizard.

"Just one," he said, his green eyes twinkling. "What the hell are you wearing?" he asked, causing his brother to spill milk out of his nostrils as he laughed, something that seemed to swell Dean's chest with pride and fondness. Albus chuckled along, earning a questioning look from the eldest boy.

"Those are called robes, it is standard wear for wizards," he explained to Dean. "Though most don't seem to go for pale blue." He admitted it in a manner as if he just came to that realization.

"I'm not going to wear something like that," Dean stated through clenched teeth, earning another burst of laughter from Sam and an amused smile from the wizened wizard. His cheeks to flustered a bit. "Anyway, I should probably call Bobby and tell him to get his ass back here," he mumbled and Dumbledore frowned slightly at the language, but Dean didn't seem to notice and Sam didn't give any reaction, so he let it go.

Dean got up, shoving his chair back in the progress, and walked towards the small corridor with the entrance. A click from the phone sounded softly and soon Dean was whispering in the phone, making sure the wizard couldn't make out the conversation. But the kid never took his eyes off Albus, and that frightened him a little. What exactly have these kids been through?

Bobby just walked out of the library as his gigantic phone rang and to his horror it showed the inn's number on its tiny screen. It wasn't like Dean to call when they were out. Bobby hated to admit it, even to himself, but the kid was tough and could handle himself quite well, so for Dean to call…

"What's going on, Dean?" he demanded more than asked. He needed the bad news now he thought as he hurried to his hired Volkswagen Jetta. It was a four door, dark blue, amidst the mud, from nineteen-eighty-five and had an one point eight GT engine. It wasn't bad, but it held nothing against his Chevelle back home. Stupidly enough, he stepped into the passenger seat. Cursed Englishmen with their driving on the other side!

"A wizard showed up, he says he's the headmaster from Hogwarts," the kid informed Bobby right away. "Sam and I are fine," he added before Bobby could say anything. He let himself fall in the driver's seat and jammed the key in the contact. "I tried to send him away, but Sam was hungry and we hadn't any milk left and the old man offered me a bottle, which he drank first, so he is inside now," Dean explained in a hush.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Bobby promised him. He hung up and hit the gas pedal.

Eight minutes later, for once being lucky with this city of hell traffic, he busted into the room, rifle in his hands. He saw Dean and Sam sitting stiffly at the table in front of a calm, very old and odd looking man. Bobby hesitantly lowered the rifle a little, feeling slightly more relaxed but he didn't drop his vigilance.

"Bobby, you're back!" Sam called out. He ran over to hug Bobby around the waist, Dean not far behind his brother. Bobby patted Sam on the head and stalked over to the old man.

"Bobby Singer," he grunted, offering his hand, which the wizard shook.

"Albus Dumbledore," Dumbledore informed him. "Pleasure to meet you," he said, and to his credit, he never once looked down at the gun, seemingly perfectly comfortable with the entire situation. He was probably the only one. Bobby nodded at him before sitting down, the kids following suit.

"So what is this school of yours like?" the hunter asked, cutting straight to business.

"Hogwarts is a school where young witches and wizards from the age of eleven to eighteen learn how to use and control their magic. We offer Astronomy, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions and Transfiguration. In addition first years are also taught how to fly on broomsticks-" This caused the boys to chuckle. "-and from their third school year they can choose between several elective classes, those being Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies-" Bobby's "what?" got ignored. "-and Study of Ancient Runes. Then there are also extra-curricular subjects…" he ended his dialogue.

"What are Muggle Studies?" Bobby asked, a little annoyed the man just went on without elaborating.

"It informs the children about the lives of people who don't use magic. We refer to those people as Muggles," Dumbledore explained.

"Why would they need that?" he asked, failing to conceal the suspicion.

"Some students are born in magical families and have been living in our hidden community their entire lives, this can cause certain ignorance and misunderstandings," Dumbledore elaborated. Bobby wasn't too sure what to think about that, but nodded anyway.

"How about classes like English, Maths, History, Geography," Bobby paused and turned to the kids. "What else do you kids have nowadays?" He didn't give them the time to answer. "Nevermind, you get my point."

"We trust that gets covered enough in the core classes. There are a lot of essays that needs to be written which also are checked on spelling, punctuation and grammar. Potions covers basic Mathematics and those who want more of a challenge can go for Arithmancy in the third year. History of Magic and Muggle Studies cover part of both Muggle History and Geography," the wizard explained calmly.

"Where is this school located?"

"In the highlands of Scotland, between the mountains, well hidden from curious, prying eyes and protected to those that wish any harm upon the school and her students," the wizard explained with a faintest hint of pride. He must have noticed Bobby's surprised face since he answered the unspoken question. "The students live in their respective dormitories in the castle during their enrollment, however many decide to go home during the holidays and I can set up a portkey to let Dean travel instantly to your place across the pond."

"What is a portkey?" Sam asked curiously before anyone else could.

"It can be any object that gets magically enchanted and then it takes the person touching it straight to a previously set destination, quite handy if I do say so myself," Dumbledore said with a wink.

"Why am I invited to join your school when I'm from America?" Dean asked. Bobby mentally facepalmed himself for not asking that sooner himself.

"The original founders set up charms that seek out any magical person around England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland and Northern Ireland and then addresses the envelopes," the wizard answered. Dean seemed to think about that deeply. Another silence filled the room until Dumbledore gave a small cough to draw their attention again.

"Well, if you don't have any more questions, then I would like your answer so we may or may not go shopping," he said to Dean, but also looked at Bobby and Sam, indicating that they can ask any remaining questions as well.

"But dad hasn't had the opportunity to ask whatever he needs to know," Dean told him a little saddened. The old wizard looked up to the only other adult with slight surprise.

Before anyone could say anything else, the door got slammed against the wall and a disheveled John limbs in, blood dripping from an awful gash in his right forearm that he supported with his other hand. Before Bobby could even react, Dean was at his father's side, closely followed by a distressed Sam who hugged his father's waist tightly and buried his face in the open, leather jacket. Dean looked left and right out of the door before closing it and repairing the line of salt his father had broken. Then, as good as his small frame let him, he aided his father to the nearest bed and went to hand him a beer from the small fridge.

"Lemme take a look at that," Bobby grumbled. He shoved a stool in front of the bed and grabbed the first aid kit from a high shelf.

"Dad, what happened?" Dean asked as he placed a plastic bottle of water and some towels next to John on the bed for Bobby to use.

"I was looking into a salt and burn when knives started flying around the house. Some dresser also fell on top of me from the second floor when I tried to get outta there," John grunted. After emptying half his beer, he asked. "What's the deal with Gandalf over here?"

"Dad, he is the headmaster of that Wizarding School Dean got invited to," Sam told him quietly, yet excited about the whole thing. The two brothers started to tell him what had been asked and said, with the occasional interruption of John asking a question on his own and Dumbledore answering, elaborating and confirming as Bobby stitched up the gash in John's arm. The man took it far better than Bobby had anticipated. Eventually the conversation led to Dean not wanting to leave Sammy behind and the fact that it was a boarding school was kind of a deal breaker for him.

"Dean, I already told ya father that I'll get some house nearby where Sam and I will be. I'll get that idjit Rufus to get my stuff over here so I can still help other hunters over the phone. Ya don't have to worry about it," Bobby assured him. This, however sparked some interest in Dumbledore.

"I am fairly interested in the way you deal with the supernatural and I would like to offer you a job as teacher for a new subject based on it. You will be assigned to living accommodations within the castle and Sam is also welcome to stay," he offered. Bobby scratched the back of his head awkwardly. His old cap moved up a bit and casted a shadow over his eyes as he thought about it. Sure, teaching Dean and Sam is no biggie, the kids were clever and quick on the uptake. But entire classes? He wasn't too sure if he was up for the task.

"The school is in a castle?!" Dean asked in bewilderment, Dumbledore simply nodded. "Woah…" he murmured in awe.

"I don't know, it doesn't involve a lot of magic use," Bobby said hesitantly.

"It will be good for them to defend themselves without relying on their wands," Dumbledore stated simply.

"You said the school is in the middle of nowhere, how would that work with Sam's education?" John asked, not that he really cared about his son's' education school wise, but Sam liked to maintain some sort of normality.

"I am sure we can arrange something with the staff to homeschool him," Dumbledore answered casually.

"No, I hate homeschooling," Sam told him off with a disgusted expression. "Can't you just zap Bobby over when I'm at school and back when he's done teaching?" he suggested, causing the others to stare in amazement at the clever solution.

"That could work, I can make a special portkey or connect your fireplace to the floo network," Dumbledore said, thinking aloud.

"The what now?" John and Bobby asked in stereo. A long explanation over transportation via fireplaces followed, leaving the Winchesters and Singer stunned and speechless. After they recovered from the new piece of information, Bobby found himself agreeing to the position of the teacher for the new subject dubbed Wandless Defence.

"So, shall we go buy some supplies?" Dumbledore asked them. Dean finally turned his back to the wizard to look at Bobby and John, who both nodded encouragingly in an attempt to say that they're behind his every decision.

"Yeah, let's get this over with," Dean answered with a half smile.

To say they drew attention as they strolled over the busy Charing Cross Road was an understatement. People stopped whatever they were doing to stare after them. Then again, how often do you see a man that looked like he already lived through an entire century dressed in blue robes and spotting waist length silver white hair and beard? Especially when this eccentric individual is being followed by two little kids, both in dark denim jeans, the older one wearing a dark red gingham blouse and the youngest in a beige tee with red and blue stripes. The strange company was closed by two men, one with dark hair and a very short kept beard, in dark grey jeans and a brown leather jacket, the other one spotted a slightly longer, dirty blond beard, an old trucker cap, a dark blue blouse and a beige body warmer over it. They formed a huge contrast to the Brits walking there in colourful tees, tank tops, shorts, skirts and breezy dresses.

Most of the Brits felt hot only thinking about having to wear a similar outfit on a sunny day like this. But none of the odd company seemed to be bothered by it. It turned even stranger when the group entered a rundown shop at a corner. To the normal civilians' knowledge, the store was empty and had always been like that. Maybe they bought it and were opening a shop? Some tried to look through the dusty windows, but they couldn't make anything out. Soon, everything carried on as if the strange group of five never passed through.

It was like stepping back in time, the once white plastered walls were discoloured and at some places the creamy white brick stones came through the plaster work. There were old maps and paintings of what they assumed were popular historical witches and wizards nailed to the wall, all kind of messy as if the one that decorated the place didn't care if they hung straight. Some of the paintings were even overlapping each other.

Right in front of them was a long dining table that claimed the middle of the space. It was occupied by two lone witches, as far away from each other as they could, and both were reading a newspaper of which the photographs seemed to move. Sam felt his jaw fall ajar as he noticed the tea of one of the witches being stirred by itself and then it exclaimed that the brew was cooled down enough to drink. Behind the table was an old saloon bar with a greying man behind it who seemed to be in a heavy discussion with a far younger looking man with light blond hair. A man in dark green robes, a short brown beard that featured several grey strokes and identical shoulder length hair came walking toward them with a big grin.

"Albus, how ya doing ol' chap?" the man said with a cheery voice as he embraced the older wizard in blue and gave him a pat on the back.

"Reliyus! What a pleasant surprise. Did you get my owl?" the headmaster asked, oblivious to John's and Bobby's discomfort.

"Ah yes, but she hasn't decided yet. You know how Suyilae is," the man called Reliyus answered with a light chuckle. "But I'm sure she will take on the position," he added with another big smile.

"I hope she will. She will be a wonderful teacher for the students of Hogwarts." The headmaster nodded to himself. "Which brings me back to my task at hand, Reliyus, these people are Sam, Dean and John Winchester and Bobby Singer," he said as he signaled to each of them when he put a name to the face. "Everyone, this is Reliyus Stainthorpe."

"Pleasure to meet you," Reliyus says to them with a small bow.

"You too," They got out, but Reliyus attention was on Albus again, who told him that Bobby would be attending as a teacher and continued in a far quieter tone to explain what they did with their lives. The honey brown eyes of the man to grew wide, but not with fear, with curiosity and anticipation.

"Is that so?" he said in the same quiet tone, full of enthusiasm. "That is marvelous!" he exclaimed as he turned to address the hunters. "I would love to learn more about all this, but duty calls," he announced, regret clear on his face, and he excused himself before leaving the bar via the door they had entered through. The bartender waved to Albus and Albus waved back then pointed to the backroom and the man went back to his conversation. They walked past the bar through a door that let to a small alleyway with trash bins, old grates, and various empty bottles. The group circled around to check their surrounding.

"What kind of joke is this?" John grumbled, but no one answered him as they all watched how the wall in front of them started to form an archway. It showed a busying little street, the cobbled road and small, old and crooked townhouses made it feel more like stepping back in time than any other place they had gone through so far. And that was without taking in the old fashioned shop signs and the crowd that walked around in robes, although Albus' robes indeed didn't seem a trending fashion among the other wizards and witches. In fact, most seemed to go for darker colours. All four stared in awe at the world they got introduced to and they blindly followed Dumbledore through the street. Their heads kept snapping left and right in an attempt to take in the various shops and their articles on window display. Yeah, this is a world I would like to get used to… Sam thought to himself in content.

Sam couldn't help but stop in front of a store called Quality Quidditch Supplies that had broomsticks of all things on display. They were laid out as if they were some superior item. A bunch of kids had grouped up around the shop, drooling in front of the window as excitedly talked about one of the articles. Sam barely noticed that Dean had stopped as well.

"What is the big deal about them?" John asked skeptical, looking at the group of kids.

"Why flying of course!" Dumbledore answered. John mumbled something that sounded a lot like "You've got to be fucking kidding me," but it didn't seem that the wizard noticed. "I am afraid I have to remind you that first years aren't allowed to have their own brooms," Dumbledore told Dean, probably assuming he stopped Sam to look at it together.

"No, I'm good. They look like real nutcrackers," Dean answered him, almost shocked that the man dared to imply that he'd fly on a broomstick. A woman that happened to walk by with her son (who couldn't have been much older than Dean), hmph'd in disapproval and pushed her son to walk past the two brothers quickly. It broke any control Sam still held over his laughter. Even Dumbledore chuckled at the witch's' antics.

"Yes, it does take some getting used to," he agreed earnestly. He's about to go on his way again, when he noticed Bobby was staring at a shop with a sign naming it "Flourish & Blott's Stationery Shop". It showed many thick, leather bound books in the window with several richly filled shelves lined up on the inside. "We will go in there when we are done at the bank. I am afraid financial matters have to be taken care of first," Dumbledore said half apologetically with a warm and understanding smile.

They continued to follow the old wizard to a brilliant white building made of marble, the entrance and the small balconies on the second and third levels were decorated and supported by four columns each, not that they seemed to do a very good job, seeing as they were all tilted in opposite directions on each level. In letters that seemed to gleam a faint gold it read 'GRINGOTTS BANK' above. They moved up the few steps to the burnished bronze doors that were flanked by two strange, short creatures in scarlet and gold coloured uniforms. John tensed slightly as the warning engraved on the doors caught their eyes.

"Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there."

Grimly Sam thought back about all the times Dean had to leave to steal food and money for them when their dad didn't return in time, and he could only imagine how his father got to his money. Yeah, they definitely were no strangers to theft, but never had a warning struck harder to that realization than this, at least for Sam.

The strange creatures didn't seem to notice their unease and opened the doors for them so they could enter the amazingly high hall with the biggest chandelier probably ever created in the center of it. The side walls held many torches. The high desks where more of those same creatures sat, all had a few candles on them as well, which Sam felt was very dangerous as large staples of parchment flew around and lists so long it hung to the floor appeared to be a common sight. They walked over to one of the desks. Dumbledore cleared his throat to let the creature know of their presence while he patiently waited for the creature to finish writing with a long, green quill. Sam guessed he's the only one ignorant about those creatures and could no longer stand it seeing as they're about to interact with them.

"Dean, what are they?" He asked in a whisper, not wanting to piss any of them off by overhearing him.

"I'm not too sure, but I think they're goblins." He answered, wariness and a tinge of annoyance clear in his voice.

"That's right." Albus confirmed to their amazement. They didn't expect to be overheard. The goblin decided to pay attention to his guests now and asked what their business was in a rather rude tone. Did I offend it, him? Sam asked himself.

"I want to open a new account for my newest staff member, Professor Robert Steven Singer, and one for the family Winchester," The old wizard stated, unfazed by the tone of the goblin.

"Very well," the goblin answered and handed Dumbledore various forms to fill in. A lot of paperwork and weird identification techniques later revealed that there was a very old family vault from a really far distant relative of the Campbell family from centuries ago and Dean and Sam were declared the rightful heirs, which seemed to upset John a little. Dean had to sign over the contract to accept to be the one in charge of the vault's account and Sam would get shared custody over it if he got enrolled into Hogwarts as well, seeing as that was one of the requirements stated in the Heritage Act. Dean was handed a tiny, old looking silver key opposed to Bobby's gleaming new one and then another goblin by the name of Graggok came over to lead them to the two vaults. Well, except for Albus, he said he wanted to see what he could find out about their ancestor, so the hunters happily left him to those formalities while they went to see what they inherited.

It was weird. Yesterday the hunters were complete strangers to this part of the Supernatural and today Dean found out that they, or at least he, inherited a vault at a bank runned by goblins. Somehow, it did ease my nerves about the whole idea of attending a magic school though. Dean thought.

Dean walked closely behind the little goblin man, Sammy next to him and the adults closed their little height parade. Opposed to the bright marble hall they just left, this corridor was dark and dimly lighted by a few torches and the old fashioned, heavy lantern the goblin had given to John. They stopped by a thin railway and Dean looked down, big mistake. There was a gaping, endless black pit beneath it. An old cart came towards them to board and the goblin climbed in, signaling to the humans to do the same, so Dean mentally kicked himself under the ass and climbed in on the backseat before anyone else could move. John came to sit next to Dean and Sammy next to him so Bobby grudgingly took the front seat.

It was a wild ride, John had to press both kids down, afraid they would fly off otherwise, and Dean had to keep telling himself it was just a rollercoaster, a well maintained vehicle, instead of a centuries old mine railway that some magic nutjob made. They stopped and their guide announced they had reached vault five-hundred and forty-eight. Sammy surely enjoyed the ride, he had one of those rare, big grins plastered on his face as they got out to stare at a big, iron door.

"Key please," Graggok asked Bobby who handed him the little key. The vault opened to reveal its large inside, large enough for everyone to enter it. In the far left corner was a staple of a couple of bronze, silver and golden coins, the first month's salary he would get as a teacher as the wizard had explained on their way to the Leaky Cauldron. Bobby decided to pick half of each of the different coins and threw them in a brown leather pouch provided by the goblin. They then were requested to get back in the cart to go down further. The cart kept racing through the sharp turns and Dean almost his cool when he suddenly got soaked.

"That was the Thief's Downfall! It gets rid of any concealments or enchantments!" Graggok explained proudly. Then they stopped in front of another very heavy looking iron door, this time with more detailed engravings and the number eight-hundred and eighty-eight shined towards them.

"Key please." The goblin asked again, this time to Dean. He handed the little silver key and the goblin pinched a needle in his fingertip to let a drop of blood fall on the key before inserting it the door and chanting in a short sentence in a weird language.

"Anoichtí parakaló." A rattling sound followed before the door swayed inwards. There were several gems and coins as well as two old crossbows and a sword. Dean went in first, examining the old crossbows, which looked like they had been through some fights, but otherwise seemed to be in good condition. John had picked up the sword, weighing it in his hands and then touched the edged side of blade slightly, but immediately cut his finger.

"Well that's some sharp silver," he grunted appreciatively and Dean smiled before going over to the considerably large amount of money. It is kinda nice to actually own the money… He proceeded to fill a pouch with the weird coins and they headed back, leaving still a large stack of the coins, the gems and the weapons behind in the vault.

The wizard explained to them that their ancestor, a certain Ranulf Campbell, who was born in fifteen-thirty-three in Scotland and died in fifteen-eighty-two on the job as a Hit Wizard – some kind of Magic Police or something – was the last owner of the vault, his grandmother, Senga, had been the original owner and had set up her account the year after Gringotts had been founded. Ranulf had married a Muggle woman and none of his children seemed to have any magic, but his line of work caused him to make many enemies and thus he taught them how to defend themselves without magic. The bank didn't know what happened to most of the kids, aside that his oldest son, Nathaniel, had moved to the United States somewhere in the sixteen-hundreds. Nathaniel had even been a part of the establishment of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, or MACUSA for short, in sixteen-ninety-three, despite having no magical abilities himself.

The information made Dean wonder if that was why his mother had died during the fire that creature had put on in Sammy's nursery. Could their house really have been targeted because of Ranulf's job all those centuries ago? The only ones that might hold more answers were the wizard and his dad, but he couldn't just ask them directly.

Sammy, Bobby and even John wanted to go to the book shop next, but the headmaster convinced them to enter the damn robe store first. Well, not that anyone gave Dean much room to start an argument, anyway. The store was quiet, and there were plenty of racks with different coloured robes for all occasions, or at least that was what the sign above the entrance had claimed.

"Good morning to you gentlemen!" a woman Dean assumed was Madam Malkin called out as she came from the back of the shop. "Ah, hello there Albus. I hope your order of robes have arrived?" she asked when she saw who was in her store.

"Yes, they are all lovely, as always," Dumbledore answered her with a small bow.

"What do you need? I'm sure we have your size!" the woman said with light flustered cheeks to the other four occupants in her shop.

"We're here to get a school uniform for Dean," John informed her as he smacked his son lightly on the shoulder, which earned him an annoyed glare.

"First year, dear?" she asked me knowingly. It´s a good thing she´s such a granny with her grey hair and wrinkles around her kind, round features, otherwise she would have never gotten away with that. Dean told himself. Instead, he just grumbled a yes and before anything else could be said or done, she dragged him to the back of the shop and hurried him to stand on top of a small stool. She then proceeded to throw something black over Dean. He look at the mirror behind the old lady and saw he was wearing a simple, black robe that fell straight down. Dean paled.

"Oh no, I ain't wearing this!" He shouted, determined. Not even if Hell would freeze over!

"I agree with the kid," Bobby said and Dean turned around to see him being fitted into dark blue robes with black and white patterns on the forearm part of the sleeves. His face was even more sour than usual and he had a deep frown between his eyebrows as he looked himself over in the mirror. Sammy just laughed his little ass off and even John was chuckling.

"Now, now, no need to look so sour, dear. Let those beautiful eyes of you shine! The robe really accentuates them," Madam Malkin told him as she looked over from her work to Bobby and her assistant. "Good job on picking the colour, Elsa! Navy blue really suits him," she compliments the other, younger woman who smiled brightly at that. "And I'm afraid you'll have to wear your uniform during classes, Dean," she informed me. "But you can change into whatever you want to after the classes, right Albus?"

"That's right."

"At least you don't have to worry about standing out!" Sammy gave his two cents.

"Shut it, little brother," Dean snapped to him, which earned him a disapproving look from Madam Malkin, that of course, only entertained Sammy even more. Dean's resistance towards the robes proved to be futile and he ended up paying eighty Sickles, which turned out to be the silvery coins, for a set of three robes, including, to his delight, the black trousers, white blouses and black sweaters. Madam Malkin also had the dragon hide gloves, which were sixty-two sickles, and a winter cloak for one-hundred and fifty Sickles. Dean also needed a pair of black work boots that were two gold coins and then she came with the worst thing yet, a pointed hat!

"No frigging way in hell!" He dodged as the evil witch tried to put it on top of his head and he quickly jumped backwards, off the stool. He took several steps back to get as far away as possible. She sighed and eventually gave up, and measured Dean's head to get the hat to the right size. Dean ended up paying twenty-three of those giant, gold coins and she gave some bronze back as change. Shit was expensive! From what Dean remembered of the explanation at the bank, one of the gold coins equaled seven dollars and thirty-five cents, that would be close to one-hundred and sixty-six dollars and this only was the first store! Bobby ended up buying three robes as well, but ended up paying only seven of the gold coins.

Next was inevitably the book store. Dean tried to reason that these books were massive and it would be best to get them last so they wouldn't have to walk around with them all day, but of course no one was listening to him. The prices of all the books he needed started to make his head spin, and he was wondering if there would be enough in that damn vault to buy the supplies for both him and his brother for those seven years they were to attend the school. Dean paid for them anyway. He had gone with the robes, might as well finish it off.

Sammy, Bobby, and John were still lost in various books so Dumbledore suggested that Dean and himself would go ahead and we would meet back up at the ice saloon in three hours. Three hours, really?! Dean was inwardly horrified, but the old wizard pushed him out of the book store with surprising strength.

They walked past the bank again and went to a store that read Ollivander's Wand Shop. It was dark and extremely dusty with many small boxes stacked up on shelves. Another old man appeared, his eyes shining as white as his messy, snowy hair. Everything about the old man just screamed "Look out! Eccentric wizard ahead!" which made Dean smile a little, and the wizard smiled back at him, an unsettling one at that.

"Hello, here for your first wand?" he asked as he started to rummage in a drawer of his desk to retrieve a tapeline that started measuring Dean on its own as the eccentric guy walked behind the shelves.

"Yeah," Dean said while he eyed the tapeline warily.

"You seem to make the Vine wands quite eager," Mister Ollivander mused more to himself than to Dean. He returned with several shaking boxes, some of them even emitting different lights. "You see, Vine wands are strongly attracted by personalities with hidden depths and often astound those who think they know them best. These wands can instantly feel when a prospective match is close, but I never saw so many of them reacting," he explained to me, probably thanks to his shocked face.

"Are wands alive?" Dean asked him in disbelief.

"In some sense you could say that, a wand chooses its owner, even when the reason isn't always clear," the wand maker explained to Dean. He opened a box and pushed a wand into his hand. "Unicorn tail hair, eleven and half inches," he stated.

"Wait, unicorns are real?!" Dean asked, stunned at the revelation.

"Of course they are!" the wand maker exclaimed. "Come on then, give it a swing!" he urged Dean as he just stared at him, completely dazzled. Dean barely finished the motion when the desk caught fire. "Nope, nope, nope! Not this one," Ollivander stated. He snitched the wand back. It quickly became clear that unicorn tail hair and Dean were not a good match as several of Ollivander's stuff broke, but the old fool only seemed to enjoy himself and of course the other wizard was smiling as well.

Seven unicorn tail hair, eleven dragon heartstring, four phoenix feather and two thestral tail hair wands later, Dean finally found his match with a Thunderbird tail hair as core, hidden within a thirteen and a quart inches of Vine.

"I can't believe my father's experimental wand has found a match," the man said. "Shikoba Wolfe from the United States used to make wands with Thunderbird tail feathers in the early twentieth century, which caused my father to try it, too. They are extremely powerful wands but very difficult to master, you see, Ollivander informed them. Dean just stared at the thin wood, it was straight and dark, the handle polished to a lighter shade and graved so it had a comfortable grip. Dean paid for the wand and they left the store behind.

"Mister?" Dean asked the old wizard as they once again stood outside on the busy street.

"Yes, my boy?"

"Do you know what happened to my mother?" Dean asked. He watched Dumbledore's face closely as small lines of confusion appeared.

"I don't," he answers simply.

"She died in a fire that started in my brother's nursery when he was six months old," Dean informed him. Dumbledore's eyes turned soft. "My dad is convinced it was something supernatural. That is why we are living this hunter life," Dean explained briefly. "Do you think it attacked our house because of Ranulf?" Dean asked.

"Perhaps, but are you sure it was indeed supernatural and not an unfortunate accident?" Dumbledore asked.

"Heh." Dean smiled a wry smile. "I saw my mom stuck to the ceiling with her gut cut open, but sure! Maybe it was just an accident."

"You saw it happen?" Dumbledore asked stunned.

"No, I only saw the result," Dean answered, not sure where the wizard was getting at. He kept quiet as he contemplated something. "What is it?" Dean asked him, irritated that the wizard wasn't sharing whatever was on his mind, it is my mother after all.

"Just the pensiveness of an old man trying to figure out what it could have been and what it means." he shrugged, but Dean knew that one already. His question had been avoided. "Nothing to concern a young mind with." Dean rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, next time just tell me you don't want to share something with me," Dean stated before he entered the nearest store and left a perplexed Dumbledore behind.

Dean entered a joke shop. Of all places, he would walk into a wizarding joke shop! It quickly perked up his soured mood and he ended up buying a few things to try out with, or on, Sam, including carrot wands and frog spawn soaps. Dean also got some non-heat fireworks to try out. Leaving with a better mood, he once again met up with the wizard outside and they quickly went to buy Dean's last needed supplies at the other end of Diagon Alley before they headed to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor where the rest were already sitting, robes and books in bags and a birdcage with a beautiful tawny owl in it.

"Took you long enough!" Sammy shouted when he spotted them. "This is Karen, Bobby bought her since wizards use them for their post," he explained while pointing to the sleeping owl. They ordered some scoops of ice and talked about the day, which probably was the most normal closure of a day they had in a very long time.

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AN: According to the Wikia, John Winchester is born on the 19th of July, 1954, the same year as J.R.R. Tolkien released The Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers, so given the success the Lord of the Ring trilogy had (and still has), I figure John would have read them somewhere in his youth.

The Leaky Cauldron is said to be placed at the Charing Cross Road.

I was brainstorming for a name for Reliyus and my mind wandered off to the Roman Golden Era which in turn led to me thinking about Marcus Aurelius and then I came to Relius. But that seemed a bit dull to me so I added the y to give it more uniqueness. My mind is random like that.

Suyilae is a play with the anagram for Reliyus, Suyiler kinda intrigued me, so I tweaked it to be slightly more feminine.

Stainthorpe originally indicated a person from Staindrop (Durham), England, which means "valley with stony ground" from Old English stæner meaning "stony ground" and hop meaning "valley". Source: Behind the Name.

There was never a goblin named Graggok mentioned by J.K. Rowling, it's an OC for the sake of diversity at the bank.

Harry's vault is 687, but vault 713 with the Sorcerer's/Philosopher's Stone in it has a bigger security measure so I figured the higher the number, the deeper down and the better the security is.
I wasn't planning on some Campbell ancestor being magical, but it would explain how the entire Campbell family is into the hunter business and it made the bank visit more interesting, didn't it? :)

Anoichtí parakaló is Greek for "open please" which is not very creative, but oh well.

The Magical Congress of the United States of America (MACUSA) has been mentioned on Pottermore and in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

If you go to the Campbell Family on the Supernatural Wikia, you can find a man named Nathaniel Campbell with the information that he's their great-great-great grandfather and moved from Scotland to the US, which fits me just fine. Ranulf and Senga are OC, though.

Gringotts Wizarding Bank was established in 1474.

A Hit Wizard or Witch is quite similar to the work of an Auror, but it's easier to become one. The Wikia compares the two as Special Forces, like Navy and Seals, since there is also the Magical Law Enforcement Squad who appear to figure more as an ordinary police branch. For the sake of the fanfic, hit wizards and witches will focus more on the criminal behavior of the Supernatural.

J.K. Rowling released an exchange course once for the Wizarding Currency to different Muggle Currencies, including the USD, so I used that. I figured Dean is skilled in doing sums in his head for his line of work and for the hustling and poker games.

Vine wands, though they're not wood, make very special wands and are among the less common types. I trust Ollivander's speech about them informs you enough as to why I chose this type.

There wasn't really a core I found fitting, so I decided to go for something more unique. The thunderbird is closely related to the phoenix and their wands are also praised by transfigures, but that doesn't have to mean anything, of course. I just liked it because thunderbirds are from America and Frank was friggin' gorgeous in the Fantastic Beasts movie.

Edit 01 Nov 2017: spelling and grammar.