Ambling Home by henri8l
Disclaimer: I own no rights to HP books or film franchise or any tv series only these invented plot changes and any added characters.
Ch10 Divine Intervention
The last few hours had been strangely ordinary for Harry. The only thing really strange was that he could understand her perfectly. He knew that he wasn't speaking English. The woman had laughed at him when he'd asked her straight out what language they were speaking. It was Italian apparently. He put the ability down to his magic, and shrugged it off. He had followed the woman all the way home. She had refused help with carrying her bags. She told him that his job was to carry himself safely to her home. They had climbed three flights of stairs before getting to her apartment. It took all Harry had in him to remain standing as the woman unlocked her door. She pushed him through the thick doors and left him in the parlor to put away her groceries.
Harry inspected the apartment from his point in the parlor. He saw the woman in the kitchen half in the refrigerator as she restocked it. She had called out to him while she worked and he looked around. She told him her name was Camilla. He looked at her orderly parlor with antique furniture and a couple of paintings. There was a wall full of pictures of her and a growing boy, Matteo, her son. She had told him about her son on their trek up her stairs. The latest picture he could see was of Matteo in a uniform. There was a door to a porch off her kitchen and the door that they had just come through. Satisfied with what he saw, he had waited for her. Camilla brought him some water. Before he knew what was happening she had taken his coat from him, leaving him stark naked in her parlor. The woman had only laughed. When he tried to grab the coat back, she laughed even more. Harry smiled at the memory of it, it raised his spirits a little bit to think of this evening. With Camilla there was a lot of laughing.
Now he was tucked in her son's old bedroom. Camilla had him dress in Matteo's clothes which were three sizes, too big. Matteo was very tall. Harry was all but swaddled into the comforter and left to sleep. Camilla had even turned out the light on him. For all of her concern and kindness, Harry still felt that there had to be more to her. Nothing this nice ever happened to him. Especially without consequences.
Harry fought sleep wanting to think over everything that had happened, but he couldn't manage it. The warmth of the comforter and the stress of his escape caught up to him. He quickly drifted into a deep sleep.
Since morning Sam had been driving Dean crazy. He had been grumbling to himself ever since Dean had brought him a newspaper to look for hunts.
"I never thought I'd say this again, but do you think you could read this for me, Dean?" Sam asked. He was pushing the newspaper in his brother's face.
"Finally gave up, huh?"
"There's only so much Google translator can do," Sam said with a defeated look.
"Glad to see that, that computer can't replace me," Dean said, beaming at Sam.
"Your hatred for computers is unnatural."
Dean just smirked. He gave Sam a wink and opened the newspaper to the back pages. Most of the good stuff was written back there. He could feel Sam's eyes burning into him.
Sam had watched Dean thumb through the paper, before he got annoyed with watching him do his job. 'Only Dean would go through the trouble of learning an entire language for a girl.' He wanted to leave his brother searching for new hunts to go get a couple more papers, and maybe something to eat. But he stubbornly sat down on the bed and watched Dean silently read through the paper.
Dean watched Sam out of the corner of his eye. He was fidgeting while he took his time reading. He was counting on Sam's pride to get him out of the room. Dean didn't stop searching until Sam's patience had reached its limit. He let out a sigh when Sam had gotten up and left. He waited a few more minutes, rereading a few lines that he had read already in case Sam came lumbering back in. He sent another glance to the door, while throwing the paper on the small table he had been reading at and got up.
He looked up at the old ceiling of the monastery room he and Sam were staying in and called out towards it, "Castiel!" The irony didn't escape him that he was calling an angel to a monastery, something that countless monks had probably prayed for behind these ancient walls. The flutter of wings met Dean's ears. This went on for a few minutes and Dean was losing his cool. He began to glare at the cracks in the ceiling. Still no Castiel. "Castiel!" There was louder fluttering and a small gust of wind that alerted him to the angel's arrival.
"Dean. You called," said Castiel.
Dean twisted his mouth shut to hold back the sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue. He didn't have time for this. Sam could come back at any time. "Where is he?" Dean demanded.
"He is on Via Sant'Egidio in a sandwich shop."
"What? In a sandwich shop? What are you talking about?"
"Sam. He bought a few newspapers and then went to get food."
"I'm not talking about Sam! Did you know about him?"
"Sam is your brother…"
Dean pulled out the colt and aimed it at the angel's chest. "Don't play with me, Cas. Where is he? I know that you knew about him. You're an angel for God's sake."
Castiel frowned deeply. His mouth was turned down slightly as he looked at the pistol. He stared at as if he were trying to understand why it was pointed at him.
"OW! Damn it, Cas!" Dean exclaimed. He dropped the gun and shook his hand. He blew on his hand, looked at the gun and saw that the metal was red hot. He looked back at his hand, looking for the third degree burns that he must have. "Cas!" he yelled as his palm burned. Castiel didn't say anything he just stepped forward, leaving the gun on the floor. He snatched Dean's hand forward, and unceremoniously clasped their hands, resisting the man's squirming. He stood there a few moments just holding Dean's hand and staring him in the eye.
"Don't do that again. You don't point dangerous things at friends and you don't take Father's name in vain," Castiel said. He gave Dean's hand a final squeeze before letting go. Dean's hand was healed over with not so much as a scar. The angel picked up the colt and gave it back to his friend.
"Thanks." Dean tucked it in his pocket and began pulling off his chain that had the locket. He knew that Castiel being an angel could see it.
Castiel watched him silently hand over the chain. He took it reverently, he rubbed a thumb over John's dog tags and carefully held the locket in between his fingers. He rubbed the locket carefully, knowing how important it had become to Dean. He could feel the warmth of the magic trapped inside of it.
"You can open it," Dean prompted.
Castiel did as told and was greeted with a moving baby picture on the left. "Harry," he said, quietly.
"Please, Cas. He's in trouble. Do you know where he is? Can you find him? I won't go into how you didn't tell me about him, now. Just. All I want is to find him and keep him safe."
Castiel stared at the smiling baby with the green eyes. 'As a baby he closely resembled Dean.'
"I don't know if you can help him, Dean," he said, matter-of-factly.
"What do you mean? He's my son! I'd die for him!"
Castiel raised an eyebrow at him, "Dean, you've only known about the boy for a little under forty-eight hours. How can you be so sure about that?"
Dean couldn't hold back anymore. He threw himself at the angel. He hauled back an arm and punched him, and then punched the angel again. Castiel wiped the blood off of his lip and stared at the bold red color, "blood. He's your blood."
"Now, do you understand, Castiel?" Dean asked, feeling slightly apologetic for attacking his friend.
Castiel nodded. "But you still can't protect him. This is his journey."
Dean cursed, "I have a responsibility!"
"And so does he," Castiel said with an air of finality.
"Just help me do this. I won't keep him from destiny, I just can't have him be abused anymore!"
"I'm sorry, Dean." Castiel's wings began to flap, pushing a breeze out of the windows of the room.
"Castiel!" Dean pleaded, as he felt the breeze rush him.
"Look in the third newspaper Sam brings. That's all I can do."
Dean watched his friend disappear and growled with frustration. 'Where's Sammy?' Now he was impatient for the giant to return.
A/N It's great to hear your reactions. Please readers, review. Thanks. H.