Icetail1r- Don't worry, I have big plans for Hermione. ;) I'm really glad you're liking this story!
LuckyCat1- Yeah Hermione will be paired with someone, an angel probably. It will either be our blue-eyed friend or Gabriel, most likely, but I'm still waiting to see comments on who people would like, I'm open to any ideas anyone might have. Plus, wait a while, we'll see John getting an earful. And yes it will be following the series, but I have planned how Hermione will change it and how she'll fit in.
Don' .Myself- That, my friend, was brilliant. Thank you.
It's been so long! . I'm sorry if this isn't a good as usual it's like 3 AM in the UK.
I miss you guys. x
SPN&HP
Hermione had just apparated away, and Dean was standing there in shock, staring at the stop she had vanished from. She was gone, again.
And he had done nothing to stop it, again. It would be a five hour drive, at least to get back to her house, in Santa Barbara, and by the time they got there, she would probably have gone, through the weird fireplace thing again.
Dean turned and looked at his brother, who was standing there, looking angry but significantly less so than earlier.
"What the actual fuck, dude? Why the hell did you do that?!"
"She's a witch, Dean."
"You don't think I don't know that?! And I don't care. D'ya know why? Because I listened to her, and she's not a demon witch! Dad gave her away because her powers had begun to flare up and he didn't like it. I've lost her once, Sammy, if you made me loose her again…"
"You knew and you didn't tell me?!"
"Of course I knew, you fucktard! She's my twin, it's not as if she hide much from me! And goddamn it Sam, I'm already worried about her."
"What do you mean?"
"She's been through so much, Sam, way more than we have. I –I'm worried about her and I know I haven't seen her in ages, and that I hardly know her anymore, but she's really worrying me. I have hardly any memories of her, like at all, but I do remember that she hardly cried. And to see her like that, it's fucking terrifying. She really loved you, you know that? You know how I looked after us when we were little? She loved you just as much as I did. She would have done anything for you, and I still think she will. But, Jesus fuck, Sam, she didn't want to tell me about anything before, I dunno what she's going to be like now. To be honest, I'm scared to find out." By the end of his impromptu speech, Dean's eyes began shining, and that was what scared Sam the most.
"We should go find her."
"No shit, Sherlock."
SPN&HP
Hermione had arrived back at her apartment in an instant, as per usual with apparating, tears flowing. She winced as she realised she had splinched herself, apparating a long distance with no wand, and she now had a reasonable chuck missing from her shoulder. Brokenly, Hermione hobbled over to the kitchen to where she kept the dittany, using up the rest of the supply she had. Once she had healed herself Hermione just sat down on the sofa with a beer in hand.
There she sat, with the TV off and no distractions, for at least a few hours. Beer after beer left her hand until she was completely drunk and yet, no matter how hard she tried, the words never left her head. Her brain was fuzzy but the words from her younger brother stuck around her skull bouncing around like little devils, causing pain in the physical and metaphorical sense.
It's not like we wanted you here
Only needed you because of dad
Didn't he come find you before this?
He didn't want to!
Leave us the hell alone
Get away from me
If that wasn't torturous enough, her over-working brain wouldn't keep quiet either.
They don't need you. They don't want you. They don't love you. You're a freak, just like dad used to say, nobody loves you. Did you see Dean? Even he doesn't want to help you. Because you're worthless.
Worthless! Useless! Freak! Stupid! Strange. Odd. Not right. Different. Invisible. Abnormal. Hopeless. Inadequate. Insignificant! Don't come back to us. Demonic.
You're trying to be a Winchester again, but didn't daddy tell you that can't happen, you don't belong with this family. You don't belong anywhere. You're always the outcast, the unwanted tag-along. No-one's even looked at you twice since Fred died, and it was your fault he died too. If you weren't evil daddy would want you and you would have had a family, but you fucked that up as well didn't you?
The beer bottle slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor, smashing into pieces, spilling its contents onto the ground. Her eyes dropped and her vision became tinged with black, and just before she went, she saw someone she never thought to see again, or even really believed she saw in the first place. The dark haired man in the trench coat. She smiled a small bit before Hermione's vision went dark and she lost consciousness.
But seeing as she had no energy, her glamour failed as well, and her scars were revealed. At that moment, or many moments later as she had no concept of time while she was asleep, the door burst open and her eyes opened with it.
Her brothers were here.
So much for a Gryffindor, she thought as Hermione pretended to be asleep still, for the reason of avoiding conflict.
SPN&HP
They had been in the car for four hours, and they still hadn't talked. Dean's hands were clutched tight on the steering wheel and Sam could tell how messed up he was since he still hadn't put on any blasting music. Or any music at all.
Slowly, they pulled up in front of a classy house in Santa Barbara. Dean turned to Sam and looked him in the eye.
"We go in there and you apologise to her."
Sam nodded and went to open the door but a hand on his arm held him back. "Don't blame me if she skins your ass."
They both got out of the car and walked over to the door. It all looked pretty normal inside until they turned the corner into the living room.
Hermione was laying down at the foot of her sofa, asleep, surrounded in empty beer bottles and spilt alcohol. But that's not what caught his attention. Her body was riddled in scars, more than either he or Sam had, or even their dad. She had a long scar sweeping round her neck, like someone had tried to slit her throat, a few smaller ones littering her arms, as if she was thrown through glass and landed on the shards, she also had a small scar on her upper lip, as well as it being obvious her nose had been broken once or twice without being healed properly, and a think scar that went from the side of her neck, near to the collarbone that disappeared under her shirt. But none of that compared to words that were carved into her arm and hands.
They were all offensive and down-right rude, but none too big, in neat-ish handwriting. But the one that took the biscuit was the word "mudblood". It looked a few years old, like the majority of them, but only from how well the skin around it had healed, because the actual crudely written word was still red and as nauseating as the day she must have gotten it.
Dean knew his (not-so) baby sister had been through a war, and he felt terrible that he couldn't help her, but he would never have guessed how bad it was. But there were scars that didn't seem like they came from a magical war; bullet scar, claw marks, burns, they seemed more to-do with the supernatural, or at least hunters. That meant there was something she wasn't telling them.
"Hermione!"
Dean rushed towards her, pulling his sister towards him.
"Mya, Mya wake up. Sam's here, I'm here, c'mon."
Sam stood in the doorway, shocked. Did he do this to her? Well, not the scars, but did he make her drink herself into unconsciousness?
She shifted, deciding that she couldn't postpone this any longer, and opened her eyes.
"Dean? Sammy? What are you guys doing here?"
She sat up, slowly, then leant into her brother almost instinctively, as he put an arm around her. For people who haven't spent any time together in twenty years, they were very attuned to each other.
"Uh, Hermione-"
"Mya."
"Ok, Mya then, I just, um, wanted to apologise for how I acted, I didn't mean anything I-"
"Holy crap, Sammy, you sound like a kid who's being forced to say sorry by their dad. It's OK, I get it. Your girlfriend had just died, and you didn't know I wasn't a demon witch, its fine. Let's move on before you go all emotional on me and cry, because I can't deal with crying chicks"
"You sound just like Dean."
She smiled and laughed at him a bit before getting up and frowning at the mess on the floor and groaned. Her frown deepened and she waved her hand over the mess and thought scourgify and the mess disappeared.
"Ho. Ly. Shit."
All three of them looked confused. Dean was ok, since he had been around with the Weasley's and was now a bit more used to this magic stuff while Sam looked on in wonder. Hermione though was thoroughly baffled.
"I shouldn't be able to do that."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I shouldn't be able to use wandless, wordless magic so easily. It's meant to be extremely difficult and near impossible."
"Oh."
They stayed at Hermione's that night, showering and just generally getting ready for the hunt. Hermione called her work and said that she was ill and needed to have a cover teacher take over, then planned to phone up to quit. She also floo'ed Harry and told him that they shouldn't come over for a while because she was going on a road trip with her brothers. That night, while walking past her room, Dean found Hermione sitting on her balcony, staring at the moon. Walking out into the night, shivering slightly in the November breeze, he sat near to her.
"Hey, whatcha doin' out here?"
"Just thinkin'"
"Yeah? Now where's your Mary Poppins voice go now?"
"That's my normal voice, Dean. I may have born here but I don't remember much before I was 5, then the last year I wish I had forgotten, so really I've been in England longer. 13 years is a long time. I've only been back for 7 years but by then I was already british-fied. And I find that speaking like this is much more proper" She said mimicking her own voice. "But when I feel at home, I starting speaking like I had never left Kansas"
"Yeah, you sound like it. Do you ever imagine what it'd be like?"
"What?"
"If mom never died. If we really stayed in Kansas, we grew up normally, if you weren't a witch. If we got to be the usual family on the street, the only news being that you winning multiple awards for English and reading and shit, and I got to play football and baseball, and Sammy got to stay in Stanford and be a lawyer."
"Dad taking us to games."
"Mom helping with homework."
"Dad chasing off potential boyfriends with his scary ex-marine stuff."
"Sam being the annoying brother who won't stop whining- oh wait, he already is." Mya laughed and punched him in the shoulder lightly while they both toyed with the idea of normalcy in their minds. But soon the laughter ended because that's all it was, an idea.
Mom did die.
They never stopped moving.
Hermione was a witch.
Dean never got to play for the school.
Sam was pulled away from Stanford.
All Dad took them to was hunting trips.
Mom never got to help with homework.
The only ones dad chased off was his children.
"Do you think Sam really meant that? I mean it has to come from somewhere, right?"
Dean sighed and scooted over towards her.
"Of course he doesn't. It's just…" He trailed off and then stumbled for the write words to say. "He-he was just…angry and I know that's not-"
"An excuse? Of course it's not an excuse!" Hermione shrugged off Dean's hand and stood up stretching.
"If I did that every time I was angry I would be beyond hope, and I know his girlfriend had just died, I realise that, but still. It shouldn't mean he can say that! It may not have looked like it earlier but I am really mad at him, I would just not shout at baby brother, not right now. But c'mon! It's not like it was my fault she died! To be honest I have never done anything to this family! Where does he get off, saying that?! And that damn apology wasn't even one! It sounded exactly how a kid would say sorry after being forced, he doesn't really mean it. I'm just disappointed he would blow up like that."
"You're preaching to the choir here, sweetheart, I already know how Sam acts. Hell I practically raised the kid. I know how he is when he gets angry, and I KNOW that he did not mean anything that he said. OK?"
"Yeah. We should get some sleep, Dean. We're off chasing dad tomorrow."
Hermione made a move to go towards the bedroom door but Dean suddenly appeared in her way, blocking the door. His face was stern, like he was about to tell her off.
"Of course. But I just wanna know, where'd you get all those scars from? Cause form what I know, your kind don't use guns. So where'd you get the bullet in your shoulder?"
Hermione looked up at her brother and saw the worry in his face, he needs to know, she decided.
"Not know, Dean. I'll tell you in the morning. Just no telling Sam any of this, he already hates me enough."
"He doesn't hate you but sure, my lips are sealed."
They stood there for a moment, before they both moved towards each other, wrapping arms around necks and backs.
Into her wild hair, he mumbled, "Night Mya."
"Night Dean," she whispered.
SPN&HP
Hermione's eyes opened with a bang. Literally.
After hearing the noise she sped down the stairs and into her living room. Standing there was Harry, in his auror uniform, while she stood in her ratty pyjamas, Dean in a shirt and pyjama pants but Sam was fully dressed and with a gun in hand. Pointed at Harry. There was a hole in the wall.
"Samuel Winchester! How dare you not only shoot a gun in my house, but at my best friend! Put that gun down this minute!" Hermione screeched, making Sam flinch.
"Well how was I supposed to know, this guy just walked out of your fireplace!"
Dean sighed and walked up to Sam, twisted his arm and took the gun out of Sam's hands. "Hey Harry."
"You know him?"
"Yeah I met him a few days ago, nice guy. Wife's a bit scary."
Harry looked wearily at Sam before dropping it and turning to Dean and saying hello. "Mione!"
"Harry James Potter! I told you lot not to Floo anymore!"
"Yes but there was something I needed to tell you."
"What, an owl wasn't good enough? You know my brothers aren't good with the whole magic thing."
"Ginny's pregnant."
"What?! Oh, Harry I'm so happy for you!"
"Yeah, we don't know the sex yet, but it's due sometime in May."
"That's fantastic!"
They began chatting and Dean offering his congratulations, receiving a "thanks mate" in reply. Just as Harry announced that he wanted Hermione to be the godmother, Sam interrupted.
"Who the hell are you?"
"So, you're Sam. I'm Harry, the Chosen One, Boy-Who-Lived-But-Died-And-Came-Back-Again, Potter. Though most just call me Harry."
"It's going on your tombstone Scarface."
"Ha-ha. Anyway, nice to meet you. I'm one of Hermione's other brothers."
"Other brothers?"
"Yeah, we met on the train when we were eleven and became best friends and I've been stuck with her ever since. She's kind of like that, adopting us all as family."
"You are my family, dumbo."
Harry only stayed for a bit longer.
"Right, now Mya you promised you'd tell me where you got those scars from."
"Well most of them are from the magical war-"
"Wait, war?" Sam questioned. He was out of the loop again.
"Yeah, more on that after, but this one (scar by neck, dipping below shirt-line) was from a wizard called Dolohov, he cursed me and it sort of tried to rip my insides-out. This one (scar around neck) is from a curse that is kinda like being slashed with an invisible sword. The writing on my hands was from this insane teacher I had when I was…."
She talked for a long while, as she had a lot of scars to get through, plus add descriptions of the curses, explaining wizard vocab and to re-assure Dean that all of these people had been dealt with. What they both noticed, was she specifically left out certain scars, those which weren't caused by wizards.
They left for the road again. Hermione had just left the car, leaving Sam and Dean alone. They were at a gas station where they'd stopped to refuel. Dean turned around in the driver's seat and glanced at his brother. Sam was staring out of the window at nothing.
"Hey, dude, what's up with you?"
"I don't trust her."
"Our sister, my twin, that's who you're talking about. Why the hell not?"
"She's still a witch, Dean. Dad didn't trust her either."
"Yeah, well maybe dad's wrong because I know sure as hell my baby sister ain't evil. Now you get over yourself, because Mya is the only one who could help you apart from me. And if you make me lose her, Sam, I will punch you so hard you'll feel like you just went twenty rounds with a demon. Shut up and put up."
"So she lived this life that we know nothing about, is covered in scars, is goddamn witch, went and lived a normal life and she wants to come back to save the man that gave Mya her first emotional trauma? That isn't normal."
"Do you know what I think? I think you're just jealous that she got to get away from the life and that you didn't. And I'm sorry we brought you back Sammy I am, but don't get angry about her."
SPN&HP
Sam still didn't fully trust Hermione, not even after the wendigo where she saved their asses repeatedly, Bloody Mary, or the shapeshifter where she always helped out with her magic (he still flinched when she'd use her wand or cast a spell, even after a month and a half now), but only after they dealt with the poltergeist in their old home.
Hermione's magic had gone pear-shaped for a long while but was back on track for now, with no clear reason as to why it had suddenly flared up or how she got so powerful. They didn't question it, because what was the point? They had no way of telling what happened. It's not like you can search online "What to do when your sister's magic powers gain strength unexpectedly."
Dean didn't really want to go, but Sam insisted, saying that he had a vision of their old house. They really had to go then.
The three Winchesters were waiting in the living room when Jenny came up from the basement carrying an old box full of memorabilia.
Sam looked through the box and gaped at what he saw.
A normal family.
There was baby pictures of Dean and Mya, at the hospital, at home, at the park, with friends, at Christmas, Easter, and birthdays. It was full.
"Oh my god, do you remember this?"
Mya reached into the bottom of the box and pulled out an old photo of two toddlers covered head to toe in flour.
"Oh yeah! Mom was baking and we started a food fight! God that was so long ago, I can barely remember it. And look at your hair."
"Hey, you weren't that much better, what was with the bowl-cut?"
"Can you tell me what happened? I mean… I-I wanna know more about mom and you."
"Well mom was pregnant with you, we just didn't know it yet. Mom was baking cookies with Dean helping and generally making a mess, I was watching mom dancing around to the music. Elvis I think. Dad came in, he was working at the garage and hugged me, then took me into the kitchen. Mom and Dean were rolling them out and Dean was the one who spread the flour out on the surface, so everything was covered, naturally. Dad was hit with some flour and flicked a bit back at Dean, which made mom throw some at him but hit me instead. We ended up on teams, me and dad against you and mom and we used all of the flour we had and completely forgot about the cookies. God it was one of my best memories. I remember us being picked up and having a little four-way hug and then Dean shook his head like a dog and we all got coated in even more flour, and we wouldn't stop laughing at the state of kitchen, well we were laughing for the sake of laughing."
"How do you remember all of that? We were like, 3."
"There's something called a pensive and you can play your memories in them and watch them again and again. I do that to my memories of us."
"Dork."
Sam caught the sneer before it was obvious, he still did not trust magic at all.
Without anyone noticing Sam slipped the photo into his pocket.
It was of two three year olds, covered in flour, grinning manically at the camera, one had blond hair in a really unfortunate haircut, and the other had bushy brown hair that seemed to come alive. Holding them was a woman about 25 years old with bouncing blond curls also covered in flour, staring at the camera smiling so wide it looked like it could light up the moon, and had her arm around her husband who was looking at her with so much love in his eyes. On the back of the photo there was a message written in neat handwriting; the Winchesters- Mary, John, momma's baby boy (Dean) and daddy's little princess (Mya) - 1982
Sam really learnt to trust his sister after that, after they went home and his big sister saved him from the monster hiding in his nursery.
And, of course, after their mom came back from the grave and gave him a metaphorical slap up the head.
A "my brave little boy" for Dean.
A "my poor girl" for Mya.
A "trust your sister" for Sam.
An "I love you" for all three.
A/N- That was shorter than i meant. I've kinder hit a dry spell, i dont really have any ideas until season 4 where i could change things up in a big way, so updates may be a bit fewer than before.
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I love you lot :*
elle
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