Bobby paced the airport terminal, nerves and high emotion causing him to be far more impatient than normal. Not a little anger fueled his movements. How in the nine hells could Karen have kept this from him? She put a child, -her- child up for adoption, without even telling him. Or him noticing. He felt hallow and wrung out after countless nights spent impersonating agents, and hounding the Sioux Falls child services agency for information.

He had tried talking to them as himself, but they had refused to give him information, despite being her husband, and holding the original contract. 'Privacy Act' his ass. Through persistence he had found out more through having Ash hack into the records. He thanked god the government agencies had actually gotten with the times and put most of the old records into computers.

It shocked and tore at his heart to think that she had been too afraid to talk to him. Thinking back on what type of a person Karen had been, he let out a weary sigh, finally slumping down into one of the uncomfortable chairs. She had an affair. He knew the kid wasn't his just by the date he (Congratulations! It's a boy!) was born on. No doubt she would have been too ashamed to admit it. She had been heavily religious, and traditional. Even if he wouldn't have cared beyond the obvious, she would have.

There had been a point when Bobby had gone out of town to check in on some car parts in the next state over. When he had gotten back, Karen had been frazzled and nervous, but he had figured she was just feeling guilty for getting into his liquor. Nearly a quarter of his good whiskey had gone missing. He had thought it strange, she had never been a drinker, but he had never gone out of town before since they had gotten married.

Now, he felt like a royal fool. The signs had all been there. The mood swings, the loss in appetite, refusing to let him see her without clothes. Then... her mother had gotten sick a couple months later. She had been gone a lot longer than she should have been, but he had likewise chalked it up to her overly caring attitude. She had assured him that her mother was in an extremely bad way, and that she wasn't sure when she would be back. After a while he almost thought it was her way of asking for a divorce, except for her daily calls.

Then she returned. She had been different, but he had not noticed in his relief to have her back... Shortly afterward... He forcefully rejected the vivid image of blood stained hands. Reaching into his breast pocket with jerky motions, he withdrew a well worn paper and photo. He had finally gotten up the nerve to send an inquiry to the English agency, posing as an FBI agent on a missing persons case.

He had received a response quicker than expected, from 'Brian Wulfric' requesting to meet with the kid's alleged father. They had talked over the phone, Wulfric quizzing him for information to double check his connection to the boy. He winced, looking over the letter. Not 'boy'... the kid had a name.

The letter detailed a short description of the chi- Harry's life. His adopted parents had been murdered when he was fifteen months old, and custody defaulted to the woman's sister. Tentatively, he was grateful the kid didn't fall back into the system. Reading the by now familiar words, he wondered what he thought he was doing. Just yanking the kid's life apart as if he had a right. He was established in England, even attending a private academy, and likely didn't have a clue about being adopted until Bobby couldn't leave well enough alone. Harry wasn't even his by blood... But that didn't change the fact that he was hers.

Even if just to see him... talk to him. Despite not being tied by blood, Bobby could not shake the feeling that he should take responsibility. He had loved Karen with all of his heart... still did, even despite knowing everything she had done. Harry Potter was the last connection he had to her, besides his own haunted memories. The notion was selfish, but he refused to dispute it.

Eyes falling to the photograph, he scrutinized the kid's features for what felt like the thousandth time. He was scrawny, with a rats nest of black hair that made even Bobby cringe. But it was his features the hunter was more interested in. Emerald eyes stared up from the photo, capturing his attention immediately. They were Karen's through and through. So was the hair, for that matter, aside from color. She had always been embarrassed every time her perm wore off, forever running to the barber shop to get the unruly locks under control.

His nose was likewise hers. It was easy to pick out her features against the unfamiliar ones. It was her features which spurred him to his feet out of nervous impatience as the arrival of Wulfric's flight was announced. The anger had dissipated almost entirely at his observation of the picture, leaving behind a type of fear that he refused to acknowledge. Even if the kid liked him, he could not get attached. A hunter's life was no place for a child. John had taught him that too. The ungrateful idiot.

Thoughts of the other hunter made him curse loudly, garnering dirty looks from other nearby loiterers. Digging through the pocket of his flannel shirt, he withdrew his cellphone, punching the speed dial and hurrying over to a deserted corner of the terminal. After several rings, he nearly growled in annoyance, until at last the other end was answered.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, it's me. Listen... I got a situation over here. I need you to pick up my calls."

There was a lengthy pause, and for a moment, his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. "Everything alright over there? I'm only a couple hours out if you-"

"No, it's nothing' serious." He fought to keep his voice normal. This was serious! Just... not the type he would bother John with. He still had ill feelings towards the Winchester in spite of him being right about Karen's belongings... It had been John's advice that led to him finding out...

"... Okay, you tell everyone to call my cell?"

His eyes widened slightly and he cursed again. "Balls!" Sighing heavily he scrubbed at his eyes, darting a glance towards the arrival queue. There was a surprisingly long list of passengers, making him anxious even as he panicked at his oversight.

"Right, I'll swing by your place then. I got Sam and Dean with me, just a heads up."

Mind working furiously, Bobby could not draw up an alternative. Wulfric wanted to inspect the house and see proof of his and Karen's ties. Thankfully he had not destroyed all of the photos of her... He still had their wedding photo. Coughing quietly, he sighed.

"Sure... that'll work... Just keep your cards close. I'll have company."

He hung up without waiting for a response, sweat breaking out as he caught sight of a tall elderly man accompanied by a familiar boy. It didn't lend much comfort that Harry looked as nervous as he felt. Though to his credit, the kid did not seem to be panicking or annoyed. Bobby certainly was a little bit annoyed. Wulfric had not mentioned actually bringing Harry with him for this 'meeting'. Drawing in a deep, steadying breath, he squared his shoulders and strode forward to meet them, hoping he looked more confident than he felt.

Extending his hand in greeting, he could not quite draw his gaze from Harry. He looked almost the same as in the photo; a bit older, though to his displeasure, he was still scrawny, and he looked stressed and pale. He wondered with self-doubt whether or not it was his doing. The kid stared back, expression closed off, though quizzical. He was not sure whether to take it as a good sign.

"Ah, hello! Mr. Singer, I believe we spoke over the telephone. Call me Brian, please. This is Harry Potter. Forgive me for not informing you beforehand, but circumstances have changed, if all works out."

Bobby's guard went up immediately at those words, though he kept his expression even. "Oh? Hope it ain't nothing too serious. And call me Bobby, please. Mr. Singer was my father."

He shifted his weight awkwardly, uncertain of how to act under the scrutiny. Wulfric was watching him with keen interest, and the kid was just staring curiously. He cleared his throat, offering his hand to the kid. Obvious hesitance in his stance, Harry got a deer-in-headlights look, before slowly shaking the offered hand. The kid's grip was light, but strong, contrary to his build. It made Bobby wonder if he played a sport.

Awkward silence followed the introductions, broken only by Wulfric politely excusing himself to collect their bags from the claims area. Bobby mentally cursed the old man, swallowing nervously. Planning on meeting the kid, and actually doing it were two entirely separate things. To his chagrin, Harry was the first to break the stilted atmosphere. He spoke hesitantly, though seemed to gain confidence as the words escaped.

"Mr. Singer... erm, Bobby? I didn't know about any of this until a couple of days ago... and I know that you didn't either. And I know it must be difficult- I mean to say, it's a lot of information to take in... But I would like to get to know you... If you want that is."

Harry finally turned his gaze to the floor, fidgeting anxiously as he awaited an answer. The words had been difficult, but rehearsing them during the flight had helped. At least when having a similar talk with Sirius back in third year, they had been too distracted to be nervous about the entire affair. Bobby Singer was an intimidating man just by looks, but his obvious nervousness lent Harry courage. They were in the same boat with this situation.

"That's a..." Bobby floundered for the right words, conscious of the shaky ground they both stood on. "That's mighty nice to hear. Listen kid, I don't do the whole 'parenting' thing well, and I don't exactly live the lifestyle for it." Drawing in a deep breath, he let it out slowly, steadying his own nerves for a moment. "But... I would like to know you. You might not be mine by blood, but that doesn't change the fact."

Any further comments were staved off by Brian's return. He pushed a trolly with an honest to god travel trunk on it. Bobby scratched his beard at the sight. He did not know of anyone who still used those, as opposed to suitcases, but he shrugged it off rather quickly as a cultural thing. The old man beamed at them with twinkling blue eyes, happily oblivious, or ignoring, the signs of discomfort from his companions.

"Shall we?"

The drive back to Bobby's was blessedly short, Brian keeping up a steady monologue of inane differences between England and America as he spotted them on the drive. In truth, Bobby thought the kid was about ready to kick the guy out of the cab too by the time they pulled up the driveway. He was a bit nervous about the state of the junkyard, but refused to be embarrassed as the two foreigners looked around while stretching their legs.

"Ah! This must be a 'scrap yard'!" Brian seemed amused and excited all at once as he wandered over to peer into one of the wrecked cars. Bobby could not help but raise an eyebrow at the kid, getting a slight smirk and shrug in return.

"We don't really have many scrap yards in England, that I've seen anyway."

"Whatever floats his boat. Don't mind the mess, but be careful if ya wanna wander."

Rumsfeld let out booming howls at the new presences, but a quick look from Bobby had the large dog's tail wagging as he jumped up onto the hood of the truck. Shaking his head at the dog's antics, he caught Harry staring at it. Raising an eyebrow, he could not help but ask, "Have a thing against canines?"

"No... Just I used to have one in England." Harry seemed slightly sad at stating such, and Bobby could understand. A man's dog was his best friend. He could not imagine giving up the mutt snoring away a dent in the hood. Clearly his throat loudly to get the old man's attention, he gestured towards the house.

"Wanna come in and get the official stuff out of the way? I'm hungry."

Smiling despite the almost rude question, Brian nodded, ushering Harry to go ahead of him as they followed Bobby up the porch and inside. The house was in little better shape than the outside. Bobby was no maid. But he had put painstaking effort into cleaning up the obvious messes, and stowing anything 'unnatural' down in the basement. The living room/study/library looked nearly bare from lack of books, but he had made up for it by placing pictures and the less objectionable statues and items on the shelves.

His guard raised slightly as he caught Brian looking over a holy bronze dagger he had set on a stand to make it look decorative. The kid seemed drawn to the photos first. They were the few of Karen he still had. Their wedding picture was center on the fireplace mantle, flanked by two of her knick knacks he had not been able to part with. Silently moving to stand next to him, Bobby felt awkward in his sadness as he looked at the happy scene.

"She was beautiful."

He spared at glance at the quiet comment. Harry had a strange look on his face as he stared at the picture, as if he were not sure how he should act regarding Karen. Bobby could respect that. He shook his head, wondering again, just what he was thinking, actually contacting the kid.

"She was... Kindest person I've ever met. Wish ya coulda met her. Circumstances aside."

They were joined by Brian after a moment, breaking the contemplative silence their quarter had fallen into. "My! What an impressive collection you have, Bobby. I've not seen some of this like since my time spent with a museum. But we shall have to talk more on that later."

He peered at the pictures, humming thoughtfully. "There is little doubt of your connection. Admittedly, I investigated your marriage license when you first contacted our offices in England."

Bobby's eyes widened slightly though he quickly covered it by turning to sit in one of the chairs. No way he could have gotten spotted out, and still have someone show up. Brian chuckled at him, claiming a seat on the couch. He peered at him over his glasses, giving the hunter the feeling of being ten again in a principal's office.

"Rest assured, Bobby, we understand why you did such, and considered it a commendable effort. It solidified the decision to come here, by your determination. We operate a bit differently than your American agencies, and understand that sometimes, circumstances and feelings change. As Harry was willing, so too were we."

Harry remained standing during the conversation, turning his eyes to the odd collection of items littering the book shelves. Dumbledore was right. Some looked old enough to be in a museum, and just as expensive. Strange statues, knives, carvings; even what looked like a canopic jar used for mummies in Egypt. He thought it a bit strange that a mechanic would have such things, but shrugged it off. He figured that everyone had to have a hobby.

Some books did take up shelf space, mostly non-fiction on automobiles. One shelf contained what looked like theology and religion books, while another housed anatomy and medicinal tomes. A strange mix to be certain, but glancing at the statues, he considered that it would perhaps go hand in hand. The items looked like they might hold more significance than merely their age. Bobby might have such books to help identify the pieces. And he more than understood the need for emergency references should accidents occur in the garage.

His attention turned back to the conversation, when Dumbledore asked about Bobby's job. "What sort of work do you do?"

The man shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Mostly auto repair; towing, tune-ups, replacements. I sell scrap metal when it's in higher demand. Business is slow sometimes, but I got enough saved up for belt tightening to be unnecessary."

Harry thought it made sense. Bobby did not look the type to work a nine to five job at a desk. Any further talk was cut short, as the dog alerted them to a car pulling up outside. Neither Harry or Dumbledore were much concerned, though Harry thought it strange when their host jumped to his feet to peer out the window. It was as if he were expecting someone unpleasant. Though he quickly relaxed, looking annoyed.

"Sorry gents, just the hired help. I got a guy who drives down from Arlington occasionally to help out around the place. Forgot I gave him a call after I talked with ya over the phone. I've got a few projects due that I've been neglectin recently."

Dumbledore waved him off. "Oh, it's no trouble at all! Does he stay here during such times, or an inn?"

Bobby paused to consider, removing his hat finally to adjust the fit. His hair was brownish-red, with hints of gray. "He stays here. He has two boys around Harry's age, so I have 'em stay in a guest room. It's too long of a drive down for them to go home every night, and hotels are expensive."

The answer seemed to please Dumbledore. Not for the first time, Harry wondered what the headmaster's angle was. Were they simply here to meet his real mother's husband, or was Harry here to stay? Someone knocked on the door, prompting Bobby to excuse himself. Thus left student and professor some time to speak in hushed tones.

"What do you think so far, Harry?"

The wizard fidgeted, finally wandering over to take a seat next to the headmaster. "I think it's a bit too early to tell."

Dumbledore patted his knee before offering him a lemon drop. The familiar gesture made Harry smile, even as he shook his head in the negative. Shrugging, 'Brian' popped the sour treat into his own mouth, mulling over his thoughts for a moment.

"A wise thing to say. I understand it is a lot for you both to take in. You are complete strangers. But I do hope you give each other a chance. If all works out, you will be staying here for the rest of the summer."

Further conversation was put to an end, as Bobby re-entered, followed by an even more intimidating man, and two teens. The new man had stubble growing on his jaw, brown hair not yet touched with age. He carried himself strongly, expression guarded as he took in every detail of the room, including the occupants. Harry felt rather like a hare being stared down by a wolf, though he sensed no danger from the look.

The two teenagers with the man stared at him with open curiosity, though the oldest looked wary of the new presences. The younger of the two looked curious and thoughtful, shaggy brown hair nearly obscuring his eyes from view. They were of obvious relation to the man. Bobby looked a curious mix of nervous and annoyed at the man's presence, though clapped a hand to the youngest teens shoulder.

"Brian, Harry, this is John Winchester, and his boys. Sam, and Dean." He made introductions, and Dumbledore got to his feet, extending his hand in greeting to John.

"Hello! Pleasure to meet you." Harry was undecided, but followed the example, offering his hand to the one indicated as Dean. He received a funny look from the two, and he wondered for a moment if people didn't greet each other differently in America. After a quasi staring contest, John broke it by smacking the back of Dean's head, prompting a scowl, though Harry's offer was accepted. His grip was hard, but Harry bore it, even returned the pressure challengingly, before the youngest likewise broke the contest of wills by shoving Dean out of the way.

"Hi! I'm Sam." His brother's grip was lighter, though no less strong. He seemed the good natured of the two, for which Harry was privately grateful. Though, from his experience with other children, he could excuse Dean's behavior as merely an over protective older brother. He had seen much the same of the Weasley children, simply never directed at him personally.

"John, why don't you take the boys and get yourselves squared away? Brian and Harry are going to be stayin the night, so take the other two rooms."

The headmaster missed the look which passed between Bobby and John, as he turned his back on them to reclaim his seat. Harry pretended not to, though it peaked his interest. A knowing sort of look, as if more was being said than what was stated. Sam looked opposed to leaving so soon after meeting someone new, but John firmly directed them up the stairs with their belongings, leaving Bobby and his guests to their own company once more.

"Sorry about that, Harry." Ah, so his exchange with Dean had been noticed by more than just John. "Dean isn't used to havin kids other than Sam around. They're home schooled." He explained. Harry nodded slowly.

"It's fine... A friend has siblings who act similar sometimes."

Nodding, Bobby shrugged, leaning against the fireplace. "Their mother died a few years ago. Not the most well adjusted family, but they're close; just between us. I trust John with my life though."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, "Certainly understandable. Such tragedy only serves to strengthen such ties in the best of circumstances. Of course, I will need to look into them as well, once I am back at the office."

Harry still found it slightly off-putting how well Dumbledore could act. It certainly made him wonder, though he pushed such thoughts aside for now. The topic of conversation moved to more inane subjects, such as the weather, and Bobby's normal eating habits. He was amused, but not much surprised, when Bobby admitted that he was not a chef, preferring to order out or keep meals simple.

Awkwardness aside, Harry found himself liking Bobby. The man was strong spoken, and had yet to withhold his opinions on the topics broached by Dumbledore. He had even caught a snipped of conversation through his boredom where-in Bobby expressed deep disdain for organized religion. He wondered idly if that proclamation was due to Karen's death, or if it was his opinion even before. He had said she was religious.

One thing for certain Harry had come to a decision on, was the topic of his birth mother. Karen Singer gave birth to him, but then cast him aside. He could not hate her for it, as he did not yet know the reason behind it. But she was a complete stranger to him. He was sad for her death, but not overly affected by the news. However, as Bobby had said... she was his wife. Harry believed that he should give the man a chance. So far as he could tell from the information Dumbledore had given him, Bobby had no hand at all in Karen's decision.

Footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of Sam, cutting the talk. The younger teen shifted nervously on his feet at finding himself the object of three separate stares, but overcame it rather quickly. "Dad said to tell you that we brought pizza, since we know you can't cook for shit."

Harry stifled a grin as Sam held up his hands at Bobby's glare. "His words, not mine."

"Yeah well, ya use that language again and I'll be washing both your mouths out with soap. Git, and tell your daddy he'll be working on the Mustang in the morning."

Nodding dutifully, Sam turned on his heel and made his way back upstairs. Before anything more could be said, Dumbledore's cell phone rang, startling the man himself in addition to Harry. Fighting not to stare at the sight, his ears perked at the one-sided conversation.

"Hello? Ah! Remus, good to hear from you. How are you?"

The headmaster's expression was one of patient interest as he listened. Harry had to resist the urge to snatch the phone from his hand, at the news that Remus was on the other end. He had not heard from the professor since third year. Watching Dumbledore's expression, he could see that whatever news the werewolf brought, was not good. The twinkle dimmed a bit, and his expression turned stoney. Even Bobby looked impressed in his more discrete observation.

"Yes, I see... I am overseeing the Potter case at the moment, but this most certainly takes precedent."

Anxiety clenched Harry's gut. Something had obviously happened back home. "No, no. It is no trouble. My return flight is not scheduled for another two days, however I can book a new one immediately... Inform Minerva and Severus, please. Also, have Sirius begin packing... Yes, of course, you as well. I will see you on the morrow."

Hanging up the phone, the Headmaster got to his feet, looking grave. "I am afraid I must cut my visit short, Bobby. An emergency has come up which requires my immediate attention."

Bobby stood up straighter, looking concerned. "Yeah, sure, it's no problem. In your line of work an 'emergency' is a bit more serious than late paperwork, I gather."

"Indeed. Thank you for your hospitality. I have one favor to ask of you. I have completed my assessment thus far, and like what I see. I would appreciate it if Harry could perhaps stay here for a day or two. Consider it a 'testing of the waters' if you will. Another agent is being sent over to complete the observation process, but he will be a couple of days."

The request threw both Harry and Bobby off, though for different reasons. Harry would have liked nothing more than to go with the Headmaster to find out what was happening; and Bobby looked uncertain, rubbing the back of his neck. After a long moment of silence, the man at last sighed.

"Yeah... I suppose that'd be okay."

"Brilliant! If you'll excuse me? I must speak with Harry for a moment."

Some of Harry's worry and ire were stifled as the headmaster led him out onto the porch. Before he could ask, however, a hand was raised to silence him. The professor spoke in hushed tones, handing Harry the cell phone.

"Death Eaters have attacked the Ministry. Several aurors were killed, and the Minister was wounded during the skirmish. I must go try to keep the situation under control. Do not hesitate to call if anything happens here. It is enchanted, so it can not be taken away from you. I trust Mr. Singer is a good man, however I have been wrong before, and prefer not to leave it to chance. While you are here, I trust you know to hide your school things, and do not use magic unless it is a real emergency."

Dumbledore paused, waiting for acknowledgment. Harry nodded seriously, pocketing the phone. If the Ministry was under attack, there was nothing for it, and no use arguing. He did not like that he was being excluded, however, he understood Dumbledore's position a bit more, after overhearing the argument between he and the Minister last year. The headmaster patted his shoulder.

"Good lad. Now, Sirius will be arriving in two days. As far as Mr. Singer is concerned, Sirius is your caseworker. He has been checking in on you for years, while you were with the Dursleys, thus how you know each other. Past that, use your own judgment. I must go."

Dumbledore re-entered the house, though Harry stayed where he was, mulling over the information. He was elated that he would get to see Sirius again, but given the circumstances he took it with a grain of salt. He only hoped that his godfather was alright with Harry's real origins. No use fretting until he arrived, though. For now Harry faced the daunting task of spending two days alone with a house full of strangers.