Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter or any of the charecter and all that hoo-ha.

Warning: mild swearing

My note: I hate this chapter, I really, really do. Though I promise you the next one is better. Also, do you guys want Gabriel in this story? Do you want any particualar characters to fall into a relationship (possibly breaking bones in the process)? Please let me know.

Half an hour, three arguments and a couple punches later Harry sat happily behind the wheel of the Impala heading to the edge of town and completely aware of the gun sitting on Dean's lap as he glared from the back seat. After all, if Harry was going to work with them it was vital that they had a healthy hate of him, or at least something like that.

"So," Harry said brightly "what information do you two have that will help me, help you, help me?"

"What?" Dean's face clouded with a mix of confusion and frustration.

"Like I was saying before," Sam cut in before Harry had a chance to confuse anyone any further "we really don't know anything other than no weapon known to man can kill him."

"Well I suppose it's a pretty good thing I stopped dealing with weapons known to man in my second year." He shuddered at the memory of the basilisk tooth in is arm, that had really stung. "What about poisons, do you know if they work?"

"Even if it did it's not like getting close enough to administer it would ever happen." Dean muttered "besides he doesn't eat or drink anything."

"Well that sounds like a challenge." Harry beamed at Deans scowling reflection in the rear view mirror "what about giving him something he wants to make him go away?"

"All he wants is Sammy as a vessel and that is out of the question." Dean snapped and Harry sighed and let go of the wheel in order to turn around and face him.

"Look Dean," Harry spoke as calmly as he could to the panicking man in the backseat "I'm not a moron, I do not intend to sacrifice anyone and I will not crash your car" this last statement was only slightly contradicted by the fact that Harry had just unknowingly speed through a set of red lights causing a somewhat massive traffic jam. "So would you just unbunch your panties and accept that you need my help as much I need your help."

"Why would you need our help?" Sam asked as Harry thankfully turned around and proceeded to drive like a normal human being.

"To brighten my otherwise dull life with your bubbly personalities." Harry drawled and Sam couldn't help but give a somewhat ungraceful snort, maybe he wasn't going to hate having a tag along after all, or at least not as much as Dean would hate it. Then again, he doubted he could hate anything – Lucifer included – as much as Dean hated their current situation.

"So basically," Harry continued from where they left off "you two know nothing and we will be starting from almost scratch."

"Yes." Sam said at the same time Dean said "no" and the two Winchesters proceeded to have a silent conversation, were the sole form of communication was facial expression and intense stares. Hell, Harry had never seen that many forms of bitch face in that short of a time period, and he had been on the run with Hermione.

Dean hated this. He hated letting some Brit midget drive HIS car. He hated having to work with some stupid stranger. He hated how Sam seemed so happy to let this guy know everything. He hated how much this guy seemed to have to hide. He hated how odd the guy was. He hated that they knew next to nothing about him. Oh, and did he mention the lunatic was driving His goddamn car?

Now here Sam was giving him the third degree of bitch face and silently lecturing him on manners. Pfft, he had been ignoring Sam his whole life, it's not like he was going to start listening to his brother now.

"So, Harry," he began in a sickeningly fake tone of curiosity "how long have you been in America?"

"About half a year."

"Have you been in this town the whole time?"

"Yeah, it's a rather pretty place."

"Who were you and Cas talking to back at the house?"

"A reaper."

"You can see reapers?"

"Yessum."

"Ever killed someone?" he watched in amusement as Harry's face did something odd, a million different expressions filtering across it all at once. His satisfaction was short lived however as the British wizard slammed on the brakes and parked getting out of the car and waiting for Dean to do the same. "Uh, what are you doing?" Dean asked, bracing himself to take another hit.

"It's the edge of town" he gestured to the large sign he had pulled up in front of as though it was the most obvious thing ever . "Your turn to drive, if I'm not mistaken."

"Oh, right. Thanks" he eyed the man suspiciously until Harry sighed and flopped into the backseat, lying down across all three spaces and starring up at the ceiling in complete silence. So Dean had done it. He had insulted the guy into shutting his damn pie hole, finally.

Fast forward four hours and Dean was over it. Harry hadn't said a word to either him or Sam since they had swapped places. In fact he had done nothing other than lie quietly in the back seat and twist a stick, that Dean assumed was his wand, between his fingers.

"Fine! I'm sorry okay" he spat the words in Harry's general direction and was hardly surprised to that the guy didn't even appear to register his words.

He was, however, very surprised when half an hour later Harry sat up and said "where is the nearest hospital?"

"Why?" Sam jumped in before Dean could insult the guy back into silence. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am" Harry waved a dismissing hand "I just need some information from someone and I am more than likely to find them in either a hospital or a retirement home."

"You mean you need to talk to a reaper?" Dean asked and the oddball of a British wizard simply gave in a well-no-shit-sherlock look. "Why would you need to meet with them?" the oldest Winchester queried.

"Because they know someone who can more than likely tell me how stop Luci'. If he can't tell me anything then we are back to square one which doesn't actually matter because we don't have anything now anyway."

"How do you know the reaper will talk to you?" Sam asked gently, fully aware of just how temperamental reapers could be.

"Because, I'm their bosses, boss." Harry mentally shrugged. If he was going to have to work with these people he might as well tell them what they should probably know, and any negative reaction was only going to be his fault for agreeing to not only work with strangers, but hunters that were strangers.

"Say what-now?"