Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter.

Author Note: I know this seems a little slow, but this is the build up. Thank you for the overwhelming response I got. I went to bed just after I posted the first chapter and I wake up with 21ish emails that went to 23 after about two minutes. Thank you again!

Evermore

Mikkal

Forevermore: II

"Dude. No." Dean grabbed his empty beer bottle and practically stormed into the kitchen for another. "We are not going to Europe and we are not teaming up with some wizard!" He leaned against the counter to face Bobby and his brother, a hand planted against his side when a flash of pain sliced through him. Damn wizard and his inability to heal. "Hell. It's not just a wizard. No, it's an entire Wizarding world. Sam. No."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Aren't you even curious about why Yellow Eyes is helping a wizard Dark Lord?"

"No."

But he smirked even with Dean's firm reply. He heard the beat of silence (of hesitation) before he spoke. Dean was curious, he was mad, and he wanted so badly to go.

"Dean," Bobby said gruffly. "Stop being an idjit."

"Not you too!" Dean threw his arms in the air. "Bobby, these are creatures. Others. Magic and supernatural. You don't make friends with them and you damn sure don't go teaching them either!"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Would ya pipe down for one second and listen to me?" He smirked when Dean did just that, shutting up and grabbing a seat on the couch. "I've talked to some Hunters in Europe. They've got this deal goin' on. The Wizards do their best not disturb the normals and the Hunters do their best not to hunt down the good ones. When anyone other than a wizard goes bad, the Hunters take care of it. When a wizard goes bad, the wizards take care of it."

"Why didn't you tell us this before?" Dean exclaimed.

"And since we've got the most experience with Yellow Eyes," Sam added, ignoring him. "They're asking us for help. Dean," he all but pleaded. "There are innocent kids. Don't let them—."

"Stop," Dean said harshly, making the two of them wince a little. He always had a soft spot for kids. "Don't finish that, Sammy." He looked to be arguing with himself before he sighed and said, "You've pushed your case. I'm comin', but I'm not likin' it."

A giant grin appeared. "You don't have to like it, Dean. You just have to bare it."

Dean rolled his eyes. "How are we suppose to get into contact this with Dumbledore guy?"

Sam dug into his pocket and pulled out a gold coin that had a fiery tint. "With this."

Before Dean could say and Sam could do anything, Bobby plucked the coin from the younger man's fingers. "Don't even think about it, ya idjit. You ain't summoning a wizard into my house."

"How 'bout the junk yard?" Dean offered. "I'm not letting any wizard touch my baby."

Bobby rolled his eyes. Him and that Impala. "You can use the junk yard," he agreed. "Furthest point you can go without walkin' your damn legs off."

"Oh Bobby," Dean said, sighing like a damsel from a movie. "I know you really loved us."

Sam held out his arms. With an annoying smile and a gushy voice he said, "Come on, give us a hug."

"If you two don't stop Imma shoot you were you sit," he threatened with no heat, making them smile even more.

"Well, Sam," Dean said, leaning back into the couch a groaning a little. Beer and meds mixed very well when you were hurt, but they didn't work like the grade-A stuff. "It's your gig. Point's on you. Decide when we meet up with this Dumbledore guy."

"Tonight," Sam said. "He said the school year starts in September, but we need to get there before so we can meet his Order of the Phoenix."

Dean raised his bottle to pause the conversation. "So, let me rehash this. Azazel is working for a Dark Lord wizard who died almost fifteen years ago because a killing curse or whatever backfired when he tried to kill a months old baby." And boy, did that hit close to home. "Now the dude's back but their government doesn't believe the boy, who was the baby who the Dark dude whatever tried to kill, who saw him come back to life. So Dumbledore made up this group."

Sam rolled his eyes. "That's one way of simplifying it." He waved a hand. "He said Muggles weren't suppose to be able to see certain things, but he thinks we'll be able to." He shrugged when Bobby and Dean gave him a look. "I dunno why, he just says so. Dumbledore thinks were special so we, as Muggles, are able to join the Order."

Dean snorted. "Special, right."

"That don't make a lick of sense," Bobby said.

Sam sighed. "I know. But Azazel's there, we have to do something."

His brother grunted as he heaved himself off the couch, wincing through the pain. "Whatever. Imma pack and give baby a once over. Call me for dinner and then we'll get cracking."

As he left he gave Sam a look that made his throat dry. It was a look of unmistakable trust that Sam knew what he was doing and that Dean trusted him not to screw this up or get them in over their heads.

"You better figure out a way to call me," Bobby warned. "Or so help me, I will do something to make you regret it."

Sam laughed heartily. "I believe you, Bobby." He glanced at the swinging screen door Dean just went through, him having decided to work on the Impala first then pack. "You don't think I'm doing the wrong thing, are you?"

Bobby shook his head at the same time he shrugged. "The Hunters over there don't have a problem with most of the wizards, more of less. I've heard a few whispers of this Dumbledore fella to know that he ain't total bad news. But it wouldn't do ya worse than keep an eye out."

He nodded. "I think I'm going to go help out Dean."

Bobby snorted. "The day you help out with the Impala is the day Dean is on his death bed," he said. "Ain't nobody gonna touch his baby until he can't any more."

Sam ignored the urge to tell Bobby about the rawhead and the faith healer and how Dean really had been on his death bed and forced him to stop one night at a motel and began muttering little nuances about the car that Sam needed to keep an eye out for.

Then he ignored the little thought in the back of his mind that last time Dean was at Death's door was when there wasn't a moment to even say good-bye because he was in a coma and Dad was selling his soul and—

Sam shook his head and gave Bobby the type of smile he would expect from a joke like that even though he knew the older Hunter had caught on to what he said the second after he said it.

"Aw, boy, I didn't—," he began, but Sam waved him off.

"It's okay," he assured. "It's over. Dean's better. We're good."

And then he turned heel and headed out to the garage the Impala was out. Dean had spent the last two months remaking her and she was almost done. There were only a few things left out that needed special order and they were still waiting for them.

"Bobby could finish the rest while were gone," Sam said, walking up to Dean as tinkered with something under the hood.

Dean shook his head. "As much as I would love for her to be finished, that just isn't gonna happen. I'd rather finished her myself and I'm not bringing her along."

"Need any help?"

His brother shot him a look of disbelief. "Last time I let you touch her you made her clang for a week. A week, Sam! It took me a friggin' week to fix it. So. No."

Sam chuckled and leaned again a post. "Fair enough."

The dining room and kitchen were noisy, especially after the little fiasco of George and Fred attempting to help their mother while seemingly wanting to kill the entire group.

"This doesn't seem like such a good idea," Hermione said, eyebrows pulled together in worry and confusion.

Ron nodded in agreement as Harry said, "Well, Dumbledore's the one who hired him, right? It can't be all bad."

"He's the one who hired Quirrell, remember?" Ron pointed out. "And Lockhart. And fake-Moody. The man's only won once out of four times in the teacher scenario. I highly doubt he's going to win again."

"I dunno," Hermione muttered, thinking hard and logically like she always does. "With V-Voldemort (oh, grow up, Ron) on the loose and Dumbledore believing you and those attacks on Muggle towns by that weird man, maybe he's being more careful this year?"

"Maybe," Harry muttered. "Speaking of, any more news on that man?"

"No," Sirius jumped in just in time to hear the question and answer. "Dumbledore hasn't told us much about him, just that he's on You-Know-Who's side and very dangerous with wandless, silent magic like never before seen."

"Oh, yes, Sirius," Remus cut in. "That's very comforting to announce to the whole house."

The Trio paused and glanced around only to see the whole room absorbed in the conversation the three of them were having. Harry blushed a faint pink and ducked his hands. He wasn't use to this, groups of people who were actually interested in his theories. The Dursleys didn't care and Hogwarts students were too caught up in school to worry about the greater picture.

Just then, the doorbell chimed, finally spelled so it would only sound in the kitchen as to not wake Mrs. Black's portrait from her slumber. Mrs. Weasley wiped her hands off before clapping them together and headed to the front door.

"You lot stay here," she ordered. "Don't want you scaring them off." She glared at the twins.

"Who?" Fred asked, mock hurt.

George placed a hand over his heart. "Us? That hurts, mum, right here."

She rolled her eyes. "Stay here."

The Trio exchanged confused and nervous glances. Them? Hermione mouthed, eyes wide. They were only aware of one. Was it wise to bring in these unknown 'thems' into the Order's headquarters?

Mrs. Weasley walked in at that point. "Everyone. This is your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Sam Winchester."

He had to duck to enter the kitchen. "Call me Sam," he offered with a soft smile and gentle hazel puppy eyes. "My brother is off doing something for Dumbledore, he's going to be your teacher, too. We figured it'd be confusing to call both of us 'Professor Winchester.'"

"Well, Sam," Mrs. Weasley said. "We're just starting supper, you're more than welcomed to join us."

"Thank you," Sam said kindly. He took a seat at the edge of the table so he could stretch out his long legs. "I haven't gotten the chance to eat yet," he admitted. He thanked Mrs. Weasley again when she handed him a plate piled with food.

"When did you get here?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Here, here?" Sam took a bite of bread and swallowed. "Just now. But Dumbledore picked me and my brother up from America a few days ago. He wanted us to run a little errand before we came here."

"But you said he was doing something now for him," Ron said around a mouth full of food that had them all cringing but Sam.

He chuckled a little and said, "We decided that one of us should be here just because." He shrugged. "My brother wanted to go into this next errand alone since he knew the people he was meeting up with."

"Oh."

The conversation after that was awkward and uncomfortable. They weren't quite sure how much Sam knew and was allowed to know and it seemed he didn't want to say more about his brother or what they did before Dumbledore decided to make them professors.

"I can tell you one thing," he had said in response, "The Ministry is not happy about this." He smiled as if he liked annoying governments. "They wanted to put in one of their own people as your teacher, but then Dumbledore found us. They're probably still going to send someone in," he admitted. "But they're not going to have the same kind of influence."

That cheered them up a bit. No one was very happy with the Ministry after the fiasco of naming Harry a lair who just wanted attention. Rita Skeeter was laying off the negative (and positive) articles about him, but most reports were still hounding on him and his "lies."

And then Hermione and Sam and Remus found themselves in a conversation about academics and such, Sam knowing a lot more than Harry thought he would.

"I read a few things these past couple of days," the American said. "I didn't want to come here completely unprepared. My brother, on the other hand." He grimaced. "Ignore him if he gets too rude or offensive, he doesn't like to read that much."

"Amen," Ron said knowingly, making Harry laugh. He shrugged when the three looked at the red head. "Hey, I don't like to read either. I'd take Quidditch any day."

Hermione groaned when Sam asked what that was and Harry and Ron immediately launched into an explanation. The American was following along a lot better than most Muggleborns and it was a little heartening to see that he was so interested.

Not before long Mrs. Weasley announced that they should all (all meaning the children) head to bed since there was a lot of cleaning to do. Sam voiced that he should probably do as well and asked where his room was. Mrs. Weasley was more than happy to show him.

The next morning found most of the children and Mrs. Weasley cleaning as adult popped in and out of little meeting happening in hushed whispers. Harry held his breath as he reached up to pull a dusty crystal mug from a top shelf, who knows what was in the dust that seemed to be nonstop?

"I don't trust Sam Winchester," Ginny said suddenly.

Harry jumped then yelped when the mug fell and landed on his head. He scowled and rubbed the spot before picking up the intact object and asking, "Why not?"

"And did you have to use his full name?" Ron pointed out. "There's only one Sam and one Winchester…for now."

Hermione wiped her hand s on a towel. "What kind of errand could Sam's brother be doing? An American Muggle in a Wizarding world, there's not much out there for him."

"Well, he did say it was for Dumbledore," Harry said, tossing the mug into a box labeled 'Delicate but spelled: not dangerous' (as opposed to 'Delicate but spelled: dangerous'). "Maybe that's enough for it not to matter he's a Muggle. Plus Dumbledore hasn't been very forthcoming nowadays, not surprising he sent Sam's brother. He's so out of the loop that no one knows who he is."

The brunette pursed her lips. "That makes sense. I wonder why it wasn't Sam as well? But still, honestly, what job could be out there for him?" She frowned. She was obviously not happy about this. It circumvented almost every rule she knew. "How can they even see this place? Most places, if not all, are spelled against Muggles."

"That's a good question, Miss. Granger."

All four of them jumped (the twins were tackling a hall closet that might have something living in it) at Sam's reply. Harry turned around to see the tall man leaning against the doorframe surviving them with an amused expression.

Sam shrugged. "We're not sure yet," he continued. "But it seems Dean and I are exceptions, not the rule."

It took a moment for Harry to connect 'Dean' to 'brother,' but he finally got it.

"Where is Dean?" Ginny blurted out before she could stop herself. She clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. "Sorry," she said, but she didn't blush meaning she wasn't actually that sorry.

Sam shook his head, lips twitch in a smile. "It's okay. He's off making friends with a few people to try and get them on our side."

"Why aren't you with him?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"He's more respected in this field," he said dismissively. "I'm here more for of the teaching and keeping a look out. He's here for the fighting. We're both here because we have information on some trouble."

Hermione put it together before any of them. "The strange man."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we've run into him before. We're what you'd call experts in the field."

Which was completely understandable.

"What field?" Ron asked.

Sam smiled secretively and if that didn't raise suspicion then nothing else would. "We're going to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professors, we'll let you figure it out yourselves. It shouldn't be too hard since Dumbledore said you guys are smart."

"That gives us nothing," Ginny said. "All we know that the man can do wandless magic and likes fire. He's a wizard."

"No he's not," Sam said.

That surprised them all. Not a man?

Sam chuckled at their faces. "I'll give you a hint: he has yellow eyes and he's not doing wandless magic. He's not doing magic at all, actually."

"What's that suppose to mean?" Harry demanded, kind of dreading this challenge because Hermione was going to go crazy trying to figure it out.

"The whole point of a challenge is for you to figure it out yourself," the American said patiently. "If you can figure out what and who that strange "man" is before we cover it in class then we'll clue you in into the whole story." He turned to leave. "Feel free to ask Dean about it when he comes in two days. Though I doubt you'll get anything from him." And then he disappeared down the all where Remus was waving for him.

Hermione huffed. "Really?"

"I thought you liked figuring things out," Ron said almost teasingly.

She scowled. "Yes, but this is beyond figuring things out! This is…unbelievable."

"At least his brother's coming," Ginny said. "Maybe he'll help."

"Doubt it, didn't you hear what he said?"

Harry shook his head. "There's no way Dean is as cryptic as him."