Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all recognizable items from it belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Brothers. Supernatural and all recognizable items from the show belong to Eric Kripke and Warner Brothers. Anything else that is original material is mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant ideas first.
Genre: Action/Drama/Suspense/Romance
Rating: MA (for a reason)
Warning: Will contain major SLASH themes. Canon-Compliant up until Book 6 of Harry Potter, and changes Supernatural to include Harry (except for the back-story that occurred before Season 1). All lyrics at the beginning of chapters, as well as story titles, belong to their respective authors.
Summary: The war against Voldemort ends and Harry is victorious, but at what cost? Harry passes through the veil after Sirius and ends up in a world without any Wizarding society. Harry starts his new life and attends university with Sam Winchester. Harry becomes an intricate part of the lives of the Winchester brothers before his secret is revealed.
Author's Note: Sorry about taking so long to update. I wanted to do the rest of this story for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) so I had to wait for November 1st to roll around to start writing again. Hopefully, this means there will be a new chapter every couple of days :) Be sure to read the Author's Note at the end of the chapter as well.
You Leave the World Behind
Moriarty's Minion
Chapter 3:
"Me Tar-Sam, You Jane"
"Ain't looking for no one,
You walk into my life.
Well I ain't no hopeless romantic,
I've gotta listen to my cautious heart."
- Foreigner, Hole in My Soul
PREVIOUSLY…
Dean's first instinct was to toss the number immediately, but as he extended his hand to drop it he found he couldn't do it. Instead he put the number in his breast pocket, determined to put it out of his mind and refocus on Sam's first day.
As Dean climbed into the Impala, he sent out a silent plea that Harry and Sam never cross paths.
As Harry apparated to his interview appointment, he decided that maybe Stanford University wouldn't be such a bad place to go to school after all.
OCTOBER, ONE YEAR LATER…
"Dude, stop that."
Harry smirked at the reflection of his friend in the wall length mirror before rolling his eyes. He lifted the weight, watched his bicep flex into a tight ball, before slowly extending the weight until his arm was straight.
"You get to check out hot girls all the time, Sam. Aren't I allowed to check out guys that I think are hot?" Harry asked in his most reasonable voice.
"But you're not just checking out some random guy, Harry," Sam explained, setting down the weight he had been using to curl his already impressive biceps, "you're checking out me."
Harry didn't even try to deny it. "So you know it's meant as a compliment."
"I'm your best friend, not a piece of meat."
"I happen to know you're both my best friend and a very fine piece of meat."
"Very funny," Sam responded wryly.
"Oh, come on," Harry said, switching to triceps, "why build a body like that if you don't want people to appreciate it? Better yet, worship it?"
Sam sighed and shook his head, knowing how useless it was to deny Harry his antics. Besides, how was Harry supposed to understand that hunters who weren't in peak physical condition didn't survive long?
"Fine, fine."
Harry cranked out another set before placing his own weights down.
"What now?" Harry asked, following his friend away from the wall of mirrors that housed the weights used for working on arm strength.
"Stomach curls?" Sam suggested.
Harry's look of disgust had Sam doubling over in laughter. Sam knew that Harry had always been jealous of his own rock solid abs.
"It's not fair," Harry whined. "You eat everything in sight, barely work on those things, and yet every morning I have to watch you march out of the showers with them perfectly defined."
"What can I say?" Sam asked, the picture of innocence. "I'm just special that way."
"That's it, we're definitely sparring today."
Sam held back a groan at Harry's declaration. Sam had never met anyone, including his father and Dean, who could fight like Harry could. It wasn't Harry's speed, his flexibility, his knowledge of weapons, or his quick thinking that made Harry such a difficult opponent for Sam. It was how damn hard he could throw a punch. Harry knew just how to use his body to put force behind every blow he landed. Some days Harry gave Sam more bruises than when he had been hunting with his family.
Sam rubbed his shoulders unconsciously. "I just got rid of the bruises from last time."
"Don't lie, Sam," Harry chided, a grin on his face, "I know some of those were from Jess."
Sam blushed.
"You're too easy, Sam."
"So I don't like talking about my sex life," Sam defended. "Most of us don't."
"So you and Jess are having sex?"
"Shut up, Harry. Not all of us care about flinging themselves at random people at bars."
Harry took the dig with pride. He liked how much he had matured since his past life. At Hogwarts he had never felt comfortable joking with his dorm mates about their sexual activities. Then again, Ron, Hermione and Neville were the only ones he ever came out to at school. He had never felt free to joke with Seamus about what a nice ass Anthony Goldstein had. At Stanford everything was different, everyone knew and no one treated him any differently for it.
"Don't say it like that, it makes me sound so promiscuous."
"You aren't?"
"No!"
"Says the guy who hooked up at a bar when he was college hunting."
This time it was Harry who blushed. "That was different."
"How?" Sam asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Harry looked around them to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "That's the only time I've gone all the way since coming to Stanford."
Sam blushed at the admission.
"Let's just spar, okay?" Harry asked, "We look like girls just standing here blushing."
Sam nodded his agreement and let Harry lead the way to the wrestling room. Stanford University had an impressive fitness center, but no room was more welcoming to the fighting prone students than the practice room for the wrestling team. With a floor covered entirely by mats and three walls with unbreakable glass, it was the perfect room for sparring. Students were free to get rough, and the room's windows were ideal to gather spectators.
"Weapons?"
"Why not? At least you won't hit me so hard."
"We'll see."
Harry walked to the floor to ceiling cabinet in the far corner of the room. He opened the double doors to reveal a large array of sparring equipment. Sam cleared his throat pointedly as Harry reached for two large wooden poles.
"Be kind, Harry."
Harry shrugged and instead reached for what looked like two baseball bats with padding covering each of the thick ends. One was blue with white stripes, the other red with white stripes. He twirled one in each hand, switched them, and then settled on the red and white one. Harry wondered if it was more than coincidence that he would be fighting with Gryffindor red.
He tossed the Hufflepuff blue baton to Sam, who caught the weapon easily. Sam, his competitive edge taking over, swung the baton in an "X" motion in front of him. His powerful arms creating noise as the baton pushed through the air.
Harry had long ago decided that Sam would have been an excellent beater.
Sam swung first; hard enough that Harry could see this was going to be a short match. Sam was exerting all of his energy into his blows, forcing Harry to do the same as he defended. The match would be determined by force and stamina.
It felt like an explosion each time Sam's baton collided with Harry's red one. It was all Harry could do to keep the weapon in his hand.
Sick of being on the defensive, Harry let Sam charge him at full force. Instead of accepting the blow, Harry dodged lower to the ground and brought his baton up against Sam's stomach. If not for Sam's abs, the wind would have been knocked out of him.
Harry didn't stop there. He quickly pivoted on his right foot and spun. As his body turned, he brought the baton around with him gaining momentum and releasing it against Sam's upper back. Harry's foot connected against the back of Sam's calf. The combination sent his friend tumbling to the ground.
Sam rolled to avoid the follow up attack that Harry had planned. As he came back up he managed to pop Harry in the face with the tip of the baton. At the same moment Harry took out Sam's knee, sweeping him completely off balance this time.
Equally diminished, the boys circled away from each other before the next attack.
"This is going too quickly," Harry complained, rubbing his jaw with his free hand.
"Are you suggesting something, or just wasting time?" Sam teased.
"It's not my fault. You're the one who went all out in the first swing."
"Yeah, so I didn't want a long beating before my date night with Jess."
"Oh, right. You have anything interesting planned?"
Sam shook his head. "Nah, I'm on duty tonight. Jess is pissed cause she wanted to go to that frat party."
"The Halloween one?" Harry asked, disapproval evident in his voice. Sam couldn't agree more. Once you've seen the supernatural, one just can't see Halloween as a good idea.
"Yeah, I promised her I'd go."
"How are you going to do that if you're on duty?"
"Obviously, I'm going to have to break our plans," Sam said, changing directions. "I can't do both, and I need the money. I can't afford to get fired."
"That sucks."
"It's for the best though… Jess bought us a couples outfit."
Harry stopped pacing so he could laugh. "A couples outfit as what?"
Sam blushed.
"Oh God," Harry said, "What is it? You've got to tell me!"
Sam swung at Harry's head, trying to catch him off guard. Harry saw the move coming and blocked it effortlessly. He used his free hand to grab Sam's armed one and twisted. He almost managed to work Sam into a headlock before Sam's very pointed elbow rushed at him. Harry was forced to either win the match or let the incoming elbow break his nose.
He released Sam's arm and pushed him away.
"Tell you what," Harry offered, twirling the weapon, "if you win, I'll cover your shift at the dorm."
"Really?"
Harry shrugged, "Sure, why not? They like me better anyway."
Sam nodded at the truth of Harry's words. Harry had become his most popular resident ever since his uncanny ability to fix things became well known. People who had problems getting their thermostats to work went to Harry before calling Plant Operations. Television on the fritz, just call Harry. Door jammed, knock on that Potter kids door.
Sam juggled his baton, weighing his options. "And if you win, Harry?"
Harry smirked, "I'll still cover your shift, but you have to go to the party… in costume."
"And?" Sam asked, knowing better than to think that it was ever that simple, or generous, when it came to betting with Harry.
"And I get to take pictures, to publish as I see fit."
Sam weighed his options. He won either way, really. If Harry beat him, then he'd just work alone on Halloween and Harry would keep Jess company at the party. If he beat Harry, he'd have to go with Jess in the costume she'd picked, and hope that Harry would not torture him too much.
"I don't get it," he confessed, "you lose either way. Why make the bet?"
Harry shrugged. "What are friends for?"
Sam had the sudden feeling he was being led into a trap by his nose, but he couldn't see it. At least not yet.
"It's Halloween," Sam warned.
Harry gave him a look that clearly said No duh.
"I'm just saying that people like to prank the RA's this time of year. You think you can handle it?"
Harry swung, Sam blocked. Again and again, faster and faster.
"Okay, okay," Sam said, almost out of breath. "I get it, you can handle yourself. I know that."
"Glad to hear it."
"But you wouldn't be able to hit the students… unfortunately."
Harry grinned. In the past, students had tried to mess with Sam in his position as an RA. Harry hadn't needed to use physical force to retaliate against them on his friend's behalf. After all, he was the son of a Marauder; he knew other ways of punishing rebellious students.
Sam took in the fire behind Harry's eyes. "Alright, then… deal."
It was over in less than a second. Harry moved faster than Sam had ever seen him move before, almost supernaturally fast. Nevertheless, all Sam saw was a burst of red coming his way before darkness consumed him.
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Dean slammed the impala door as hard as he could, taking out the full brunt of his frustration on the car.
"I'm sorry, baby," Dean apologized to the vehicle, patting it lovingly, "you know it's not you I'm mad at."
Every time John and Dean took on a hunt in California their trip ended in fighting. They both knew it was the tension of being too close to Sammy. Even if he wasn't physically present, Sam was a strong reminder of the problems they shared. He was the missing piece, and yet the memento of discourse that just wouldn't go away.
It was even harder now that they were just two counties away from Stanford University. John was completely on edge, and Dean rounded every corner with the hope of running into his little brother.
Even worse, the only chances Dean had gotten to return to California over the past year his father had accompanied him. Only once had those trips included a stop at Stanford to see Sam. The other two had been to stop by a certain gay bar to find a specific client with beautiful green eyes and jet-black hair. All of the visits wasted by his father's overbearing presence.
It was as if John was afraid that Dean would be infected by the same urge to leave that Sam had. No, any time Dean was working in the west, John Winchester was just around the corner ready to lend his eldest son a hand.
Dean was fucking sick of it. He could handle himself. Where was his father when they were teenagers? John had certainly had enough faith in Dean to take care of the family then.
Unfortunately for the pair of them, they were too much alike. They wouldn't talk about their issues which left them just one option: fighting and drinking, and not always in that order.
Tonight the fighting had been strong, and Dean just wanted to start the drinking already. His father was probably still swearing up a storm back at the motel. Dean had taken off to find a bar, somewhere his father wouldn't go. There was only one place he could think of.
Dean stared up at the familiar sight of the Two of a Kind bar.
Bobby, the grisly bartender from last year, was tending bar again. Dean saw him glance up and the man's eyes narrowed. Dean just grinned at the man.
His eyes scanned the bar, the booths, and the dance floor. No Harry. No Sam.
Dean sighed. No matter, he could get drunk on his own whether he had company or not. He just wished he didn't have to.
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Jess lovingly pressed the ice pack to Sam's head, covering as much of the red area as she could. Harry chuckled at the pair of them. Sam's massive figure took up so much of the couch that his legs were hanging off the end. Jess was forced to perch on the edge of the sofa, just to remain close.
"Did you have to hit him so hard?" Jess asked, glaring from her position on the couch at Harry.
Harry made an apologetic face. "You told me to win the bet no matter what."
"Obviously I wanted you to win, Harry," she returned hotly, "but I didn't mean for it to happen like this."
Before Harry could reply, Sam moaned on the couch and mumbled something unintelligible.
Jess leaned closer and in her most melodic tones asked, "What did you say, Sam?"
Sam's eyes flickered open and focused on her, then Harry, then back at Jess.
"I said I knew I was being tricked into something."
Jess smacked him lightly on the shoulder. Harry chuckled again.
"You can't hit me," Sam mock-complained, "I'm sick."
"Here," Jess said, forcing Sam's hand onto the ice pack, "you can hold this on your own."
Sam pulled his legs back onto the couch, and shifted into a sitting position. Jess squeaked as Sam pulled her onto his lap. Harry watched Sam's eyes soften as he held his girlfriend.
"Guess I won the bet."
Sam glared at him in response. "Cheated is more like it."
"No," Harry corrected, "I tricked you into a bet, but I didn't cheat to win it. Look on the bright side though."
"Bright side? What bright side?"
"Girls can't help but play nurse around an injured guy. They'll take one look at that bright red spot on your face and swoop in to mend you."
Jess couldn't help but laugh.
"And you," Sam said, turning his attention to his girlfriend, "were in cahoots with that maniac?"
Jess put on her most innocent expression. "I just wanted to go to the Halloween party with you. Don't you want to spend more time with me?"
"Of course I do."
"Then why did you say you'd come to a party with me when you knew you were on dorm duty?"
"Well, I just realized and I –"
"And why didn't you try to trade with another RA when you found out?"
"Well, it was really short notice and I didn't want to inconvenience –"
"And Harry's helped you out before, and he hates Halloween almost as much as you do. Yet you didn't think to ask him?"
"Well, I –"
"Dude," Harry said, breaking into the tirade, "just suck it up. You're going trick or treating."
Sam sighed. "Alright, I'll go to the party."
"Great!" Jess said enthusiastically, jumping to her feet instantly. "I've got your costume in the bedroom."
Harry clapped excitedly, "Can't wait!"
"Yeah," Sam said, demoralized, "can't wait."
"Sam Winchester get you butt in this room or I'll let Harry help you get the costume on instead!" Jess yelled from the bedroom.
Sam took one look at the feral grin on Harry's face before hopping up and dashing into the bedroom.
Harry relaxed into the large chair in Sam's living room. If there was ever a reason Harry might consider being an RA, it was definitely the living space. The Residential Advisor in each dormitory on campus had several perks, but none more impressive than the dorm rooms. Sam's in particular was a combination of three separate dorm rooms that had been converted into a small apartment. There was a small kitchen, a living room, and a spacious bedroom complete with a minute private bathroom.
"Harry?" Jess called from the bedroom.
"Was there supposed to be someone else here?" Harry asked, cheekily.
"I guess you'll have to do," Jess teased back. "Ready to see our costumes?"
"Hold on," Harry called. Deciding not to waste time, Harry wandlessly summoned his video camera from his room. He cast a disillusionment charm on it and set it on top of the TV, strategically aiming it towards the bedroom.
"What's taking so long?" Jess asked. Harry heard Sam whisper something to Jess; presumably that Harry should take as long as possible.
"Relax," Harry said, retaking his seat, "I'm ready when you are."
A moment later Jess did a little dance move out of the bedroom and into the living room area. She was dressed only in a yellow bra and skirt, leaving her legs and stomach mostly bare. On closer inspection Harry could see that the yellow clothing had small jagged black lines randomly placed on it, creating an animal print look. Jess's beautiful blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, two fake bones holding it together.
"You make a beautiful cave woman, Jess."
"Thanks, Harry."
They waited a moment for Sam to appear, but their patience was fruitless.
"Sam?"
Nothing.
"You okay in there, mate?"
Still nothing.
Jess moved towards the bedroom. "Sam, I know you're embarrassed, but –"
Jess screeched as Sam dashed out of the room, picking her up in one swift motion, and throwing her over his shoulder. In his other hand, Sam held a massive fake wooden club. Sam was dressed in the same skirt type as Jess. The only difference was that his was held up by a single leather strap that disappeared over his right shoulder. He was naked otherwise.
"Bam bam, bam bam," Sam said again and again. Jess's legs kicked uselessly at the air.
Harry burst out laughing, actually collapsing on the floor in delight. Sam brought Jess close enough that Harry was able to help in the torture of their mutual friend.
After a few moments of friendly teasing, the boys agreed to let Jess become upright again.
"Is that why we've been working out all week, Sam?" Harry teased. "Knew you might have to show off a bit."
"A bit?" Sam cried indignantly, "I'm practically naked."
Jess whispered something in Sam's ear that Harry knew he really did not want to overhear. Taking his cue, Harry stood and grabbed his invisible camera while Sam was busy being distracted by Jess's mumblings.
"I think I'm going to take off," Harry informed the pair. "Gotta shower after the gym and lugging Big-Foot here back to his room."
"You didn't even get your photos!" Jess reminded him, much to Sam's displeasure.
"A travesty, really," Sam added wryly.
"Oh well," Harry said, pretending to be unhappy as he gripped the camera even tighter, "maybe when you guys get back."
As Harry closed the door, he saw Sam pick Jess up again and head for the bedroom.
"Bam bam, indeed," Harry joked to himself, laughing all the way back to his own room.
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"We're here, boy."
Dean jerked awake at the taxi driver's announcement.
He'd been too drunk to drive himself, but that wasn't going to stop him. Dean had been forced to leave the keys to his baby with Bobby the bartender and a promise to kill the man if anything happened to her.
Dean was on a mission to see his brother. The more he had drunk, and he'd drunk a lot, the better the idea had become. Sam had always been a good little brother, one who had listened to the wisdom of Dean Winchester since he was young enough to understand Dean.
Dean was confident that given enough time, he could bring Sammy home. Then they'd be together again: John, Dean, and Sammy. There would be no more fights… only drinking and hunting. Everything would be how it was supposed to be.
He just needed to find his wallet.
"You okay back there, boy?"
Dean belched in response, the stench of alcohol filling the backseat.
"Anyone ever tell you you're a real charmer?" the taxi driver asked.
Dean grinned wolfishly. He passed the man a wad of money through the slit in the plastic that divided the front from the back of the taxi. Dean climbed out of the cab and stepped onto the cement sidewalk before breathing in the collegiate air. The taxi pulled away behind him.
"So this is college?" Dean asked the empty air around him. He filled his lungs with air, held it a moment… and then puked all over the sidewalk.
"Crap."
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On the screen, Nancy screamed bloody-murder as soon as Freddy Krueger appeared behind her. Harry rolled his eyes, and grabbed another fistful of popcorn.
Ever since starting his new life, he'd become a fan of the horror movie genre. Truthfully, he was a fan of movies in general. Horror movies somehow entertained him more than the other genres though. He especially enjoyed the Nightmare on Elm Street series, which was both scary and pretty funny. There was no better way he could think of to spend Halloween night than a marathon of the best ones in the series.
Harry had decided that since he was covering for Sam, it was only fair that he get to use Sam's TV and eat Sam's food. If Sam had a problem with it, he could always let Harry know during their next sparring match.
Harry's watch began to beep, alerting him to his first set of rounds. Having done the procedure before, Harry knew that RA's were required to check their respective dormitories. This check had to be done a certain number of times a night. Harry set his first rounds for midnight, hoping that everyone was either still at their parties or asleep.
Harry set the DVD to pause, letting the frame settle on an image of Krueger laughing maniacally. He set the bucket of popcorn, his third, on the small table in front of the couch. He stretched, grabbed the master set of keys that Sam had left him, and pulled his shoes on.
Harry opened the door and jumped when someone's limp form fell into the doorway.
There, collapsed on Harry's shoes, was Dean.
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A few moments earlier…
It had only taken Dean twenty minutes, three coeds, and a detour around Stanford Campus Safety to find Sam's dormitory.
Dean was proud of his brother for becoming a Residential Advisor, and yet also seriously disappointed. Leave it to his little brother to find a way to be 'responsible' in a situation where frat parties, chicks, and liqueur were the best ways to spend your time.
If Dean had done the whole college thing, he would have done it right. First, he would have charmed his way into one of the state schools that was infamous for being a party school. Then he would have taken his pick of the frats, and won his way to being the king of Greek row. Then he'd take his time bedding down all the chicks from the sororities… and maybe even a few of the brothers as well. He'd be a super senior for the rest of his life.
It took a minute for Dean to break out of his college fantasy and refocus on the real world again. He still needed to find Sam's door before he passed out.
Luckily for him, a couple dressed as Batman and Catwoman was exiting the dorm just as he approached. Dean held the door open for them as they exited, and then slipped inside before anyone realized he didn't live there.
In the lobby he found the directory of Residential Advisors that listed their names, room numbers, and phone extensions.
Dean took a few attempts to drag his finger in a straight line across the board to read the information next to Sammy's name. When he was sure he'd gotten it right, he crossed the lobby and began looking for an elevator.
Eventually it occurred to him that perhaps the building didn't have an elevator. Dean cursed and started the long march up to Sam's floor. It really wasn't doing his already upset stomach any favors. He even had to stop halfway there for a breather.
Eventually he reached the landing of Sam's floor. Much like a climber having just scaled Mount Everest, Dean threw both hands triumphantly in the air and fake cheered for himself.
"Champion of the world," he muttered to no one in particular.
He started counting down the room numbers until he reached a door that had a small photo of Sam's face and his name written in glitter on the door. Dean's lip curled in disgust at the atrocious artwork. He tried to brush off some of the glittery letters, but used too much force and ended up ripping the sign down.
"Shit."
Dean, looking like a three year old that just broke his parent's favorite vase, checked to make sure no one had seen him do the deed. He bent down to pick up the paper. Halfway there, he realized that the alcohol had removed his ability to balance and he fell the rest of the way to floor with a thud.
"Ouch."
Dean cradled the hand he'd used to break his fall. Thankfully it only stung a little bit. Dean picked up the paper with Sam's name on it and slapped it firmly against the door until he was sure it would stay.
Dean smiled at a mission accomplished. It never occurred to him that having the name at the bottom of the door would be a noticeable difference.
His first attempt to return to a standing position had him back on his ass within seconds. He rubbed the bruised area of his butt and waited for the sharp pain to stop.
Dean leaned against the door of Sam's room and decided to just shut his eyes for a few minutes. Just until he could think of a new plan to stand up.
His snores filled the hallway within seconds.
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Harry froze for a moment and just stared at Dean's crumpled form.
Harry had tried to convince himself that his encounter with Dean last year hadn't swayed his choice in colleges and universities. He had tried, but he had failed to truly convince himself.
Every time he glimpsed a guy in a leather jacket, he checked their face for hard cheekbones. Every time an impala drove by on the highway, he felt a little jolt of hot sweat and sex. Whenever he started hooking up with someone, it never compared to his time with Dean. Every weekend he visited the bar they had met in, and checked for Dean while he evaluated the place for potential threats.
He couldn't help it; some part of him had gone to Stanford in the hope that he might run into Dean again. Until now, he had been inherently disappointed.
And yet here was the object of his misplaced affection, lying on his feet.
He was struck by a sudden thought that terrified him, Could Dean be dead?
Harry dropped to his knees and began shaking Dean by his shoulders.
"Dean?" Harry asked franticly. "Dean, are you alright? Dean!"
Slowly, he saw Dean's eyes start to flutter. Thank Merlin, he thought. Harry realized that his sudden shaking of Dean had caused his head to smack against the floor. Harry cradled Dean's head instead.
"Harry?" Dean croaked, wide eyed.
"Dean?" Harry asked in return, immediately feeling stupid for asking a question he obviously knew the answer to. "What are you doing here?"
"Had to…" Dean said. "Had to see…"
"What, Dean, what did you need to see?"
Dean's focus moved up to the door and he tried to point at Sam's name on the door. To Harry, it looked as if he was merely pointing at Harry's face. Harry tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach at the idea that Dean had come for him.
"Me?"
Dean frowned slightly, looked back at Sam's name, and then at Harry's face… but he said nothing.
Dean tried to mentally wade through the alcohol-induced fog that was his consciousness. He had come to see Sam, but had come across Harry. Harry, whom he had shared one of the best nights of his life with; Harry, whose number he had kept longer than he should have; Harry, the only guy he'd ever really wanted.
Visiting with Sam had been such a bad idea that he'd had to get drunk to sell it to himself. He was so far gone now that any kind of impression he'd wanted to make on his little brother would be useless. He'd just disappoint Sam again.
That didn't mean his night had to be a complete waste, did it?
He'd known that he might run into Harry. If he was honest with himself, he knew there was no chance of him talking Sam into coming back with him.
Dean turned his full attention to Harry and drunkenly said, "Found you."
Then Dean passed out cold.
Harry smelt the alcohol wafting from Dean's entire body. "Figures."
Harry mentally debated his course of action. He could bring Dean into Sam's room and leave him there for the night, but that would certainly spoil Jess and Sam's date night. Harry's room was at the other end of the hall, and Dean was a big guy. Harry would have to levitate him no matter what. At least if he was in Harry's room, he could keep an eye on him through the night.
Once he was sure the coast was clear Harry disillusioned Dean and levitated his limp form down the hall, and into his room. Harry locked the door behind them, leaving Dean hanging in the air momentarily.
Despite having the single on the floor, Harry still had a freshman dorm room, which was stereotypically small. He didn't have a large comfy couch for Dean to sleep on, so he'd have to be in the bed. Harry physically cleared off whatever items were covering his bed. He pulled the sheet and comforter back and propped up one of the pillows. Then he levitated Dean into the bed.
Harry hesitated for a moment. He didn't know if it was appropriate to undress Dean. He'd always appreciated when Ron would do it for him after a night of drinking. No one liked sleeping in their clothes, it was too uncomfortable. Did the rules change if you'd slept with someone? Was it perverted that he really wanted to undress an unconscious and immobile Dean?
Harry magically lifted Dean into a sitting position to pull off Dean's trademark jacket. He let his left hand hold the sleeve, while his right found Dean's shoulder very comfortable to hold on to. Harry felt warm at the reminder of the strength in Dean's body. He couldn't help but slip his hand a little further into the jacket sleeve, lightly massaging the arm muscles he found there.
He was startled when Dean made a noise. Then he realized that Dean was moaning incoherently. Not a disturbed moan, but a pleasurable moan.
At that realization, any doubts Harry had melted away.
He took his time reaching around behind Dean to slide his hands across the top of Dean's back and shoulders. He repeated the motion with Dean's other arm, until the jacket came free. Harry levitated the jacket down under the bed.
Next he trailed his fingers down Dean's torso to his legs, pointedly ignoring the groin, and circled his ankles. Harry unlaced Dean's boots and slipped them off as gently as he could. His nimble fingers penetrated the cuff of Dean's jeans and moved upward until reaching the skin at the top of his white socks. He took his time sliding the cotton off each foot. Dean, he noticed, had a cute little freckle at the base of his right ankle. Feeling suddenly daring, Harry gave the freckle a quick peck of his lips.
Harry turned his attention to the plaid button down that Dean wore with the top 3 buttons undone already. Harry had always hated buttons, so he let his magic pop the first one. Then the second, the third, and so on until Dean's white undershirt was completely visible. Harry pressed lightly at Dean's side, leaving his hand there just to feel Dean's abdomen rise and fall with oxygen. His hand traveled upward, catching a nipple in the journey, and focused on the dress collar. Within moments Dean was without his button down.
Harry swallowed thickly as he realized there was a bulge in Dean's pants. He figured that must not be very comfortable in those jeans. He knew first hand how "Big Dean" needed room to breathe. It would only be right to free him.
At the mental thought, Harry's magic popped the button on Dean's jeans. Harry's hands were trembling to hard to pull the zipper down, so he let the magic do that as well. The top of grey boxers peaked out. Harry slid both his hands into the jeans, one on each upper thigh. He pushed down, making sure to move the jeans but leave the boxers on. He stopped when Big Dean had just enough room to settle freely.
Harry moved to the bottom of the bed. He slid his hands upwards along the top of Dean's thighs. When he reached the top of the jeans he pulled them the rest of the way down. He let the jeans fall into a crumpled pile under the bed. Dean shifted at the sudden air on his body.
Harry stared open-mouthed at his prize. Dean had snuggled one hand under the pillow beneath his head, the other at his side. His legs stretched, one bent against the other, to form a P with his legs. Big Dean was standing at attention beneath the grey boxers. The thin white shirt that covered Dean's upper body had ridden up during the stretch. Between the hem of the shirt and the tip of the boxers were Dean's belly button and the light dusting of hair that comprised his treasure trail.
Harry saw that Dean had left the button on his boxers unfastened and that Big Dean was aimed towards the opening. He traced the outline of the familiar member with his eyes. All it would take is a little nudge and Big Dean would taste the open air.
Harry leaned forward, right hand outstretched towards Big Dean…
Harry jumped as someone knocked on the door. He glanced fearfully at Dean, expecting for the noise to have woken him. For a moment, he thought it had, but Dean just rolled over onto his side and snuggled into Harry's favorite pillow.
Harry sighed and threw up a silencing charm on the door, lest the person get impatient and knock again. Harry covered Dean with the sheets, before answering the door. He opened it just far enough to show some of the room, but not the bed Dean was occupying.
A girl from the floor below, Amanda, was at the door. She was dressed in an elaborate Angel outfit, complete with wind-blown feathers.
"Hey, Harry," Amanda said brightly. "Do you know where Sam is? He's the person on duty tonight but he wasn't in his room."
Harry glanced back at Dean before putting a smile on. He should be thankful to Amanda for saving him from himself… right?
"I'm covering for him tonight, Amanda."
"Oh! Excellent."
As Harry followed Amanda down the hall, he tried to listen to the details of whatever problem she needed fixed right that moment. Harry couldn't help it if his attention was focused on the man in his bed upstairs and the intimate moment he'd left unfinished.
There's always the morning, Harry consoled himself.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Special thanks to everyone that reviewed. I was really nervous about my sex scene and all the feedback was wonderful! Thanks!!!
I didn't know it at the time, but apparently this site has some really uptight policy on mature scenes. Whoops. I know now, so if people want more of those scenes I might have to find another site to add in the more mature elements. Suggestions would be lovely.
This chapter was supposed to include all the major scenes from Harry's freshman year, but I felt the re-introduction of Dean and Harry deserved a whole chapter. Apparently, my muse did as well since it took forever. Next chapter we'll see the next morning and the rest of freshman year for Harry.
Also, I've become a beta for the wonderfully talented scarletsptember and her TWO harry potter/supernatural crossovers Motel 59 and Thunderstruck. Be sure to check them out, because they are so worth it. One is developing into Sam/Harry/Dean, and the other is a very promising Harry/Sam. The author and the stories should be linked under my favorites… because that's what they are.
As always, don't forget to REVIEW!!!