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 you don't recognize, and is original material, is all mine. I can only wish I was as creative as to think of these brilliant additions to pop culture first.

Genre: Action/Romance/Drama/Suspense

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 and that J.K. Rowling never published the Harry Potter series LOL. 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 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: I am proud to announce that 800 people now receive an alert every time "You Leave the World Behind" has a new chapter posted! Also, it is a favorite story of over 500 readers and has had close to 70,000 hits! THANKS FOR READING, EVERYBODY!!!

Also, before anyone asks, Harry is a Seeker in Quidditch. So the pun in my chapter title DOES make sense, despite what my stupid friends have told me, LOL.

As always, don't forget to read the Author's Note at the end of the chapter! There's an extra special bribe at the end of it :)

***Special warning for sexual situationsand bad language***

You Leave the World Behind

Moriarty's Minion

Chapter 11:
"Baby, Don't Fear The Seeker"

"It's the moment of truth,
and it's finally come this time.
Now we must draw the line.
The moment of truth,
this time it's everything.
Open up, let me in,
let me right into your heart."

- Foreigner, Moment of Truth

THEN…

"Harry?"

Harry turned to face Dean who had called his name from across the street. Sam was standing next to Dean, and Harry tried to ignore the fact that both of the Winchesters had their weapons aimed at him.

"It's okay, Dean," Harry said softly. "It's me. It's Harry."

Dean kept his gun trained on him. Harry wasn't sure if Dean just didn't believe him or if he didn't trust himself to speak. Whatever the reason, Dean merely continued to give Harry a betrayed look.

"It's me, guys," Harry said, taking a step closer to them. "I can prove it."

Unbeknownst to Harry, John Winchester had noticed his son's dead lover appear out of thin air the moment he'd arrived on the scene. He'd kept one eye on Harry throughout the entire battle. Even after Harry had helped them end the battle, John had turned the rifle's scope to focus on the spot between Harry's eyes.

In John Winchester's mind, no matter how much help the kid gave them against the demon, nothing inhuman was good. Especially nothing that could kill with the ease with which Harry had just done. The moment Harry had taken a step towards his son's had been the last straw.

John Winchester trained his rifle's sight on his target and fired.

NOW…

Dean saw the outcome of his father's shot before he heard the gunshot.

To Dean, it was like watching it all unfold in slow motion. Harry's body jerked and twirled as if he were drunkenly dancing. Harry's brilliant green eyes were wide in surprise. Harry overbalanced and fell sideways onto the street, the front of his body facing away from the brothers.

"Dad, what did you do?" Sam whispered so softly that Dean, standing next to him, barely registered the question. Sam took off running, rapidly closing the distance between himself and Harry's fallen body. Dean tried to move, but the shock held him still.

Sam slowed as he came within a few feet of Harry. Did he really want to see Harry's body? To see proof that his father had just slain his best friend? Proof that the one person Dean had ever had a long-term relationship with was lost to him? Most devastating was that it would be yet more proof of the Winchester curse.

To Dean it may have looked like Sam knelt next to Harry, but in truth his legs buckled beneath him. Sam reached out, hand shaking, and pulled gently on Harry's shoulder. Harry's body was uncomfortably simple to move. Sam looked at Harry's face, knowing how his father preferred headshots for accuracy, but found no bullet hole. The only blood on Harry's forehead was from where he'd hit his head on the concrete, knocking him unconscious.

As Sam turned Harry's face further towards him he noticed a red shadow form beneath his hand on Harry's cheek. Sam pulled his hand away from Harry's face and saw the newly tainted skin where his hand had left blood in the shape of his palm. Sam's hand was covered in blood from where he had touched Harry's shoulder.

The act of turning Harry over had pushed the wizard's shirt against the bullet wound. Blood began staining the shirt and expanding in a circular formation as the blood soaked into the shirt. Sam hurriedly tore the shirt at the collar, exposing the wound John Winchester had inflicted upon him. Sam swore and took out the handkerchief he used to hold back his hair during workouts. He pushed the cloth tightly against the wound, applying enough pressure to keep the wound closed.

"Get away from it, Sam," John ordered in what Sam had deemed his 'marine voice'. John appeared at the front entrance of the building that his sniper nest had been on top of. His rifle was still in hands and was aimed tightly at Sam and Harry.

"Why did you shoot him?" Sam demanded, pointing his bloodied hand at his father.

"You saw what he did."

"I saw him help us."

"Why do you think I didn't put him down in the first place?" John shrugged. John's comment seemed to bring Dean out of his daze. "I still wasn't going to let him get near you two."

"He's alive?" Dean asked.

John frowned at the hopeful tone in his eldest son's voice. Not that he'd ever admit it, but John always knew that, despite his efforts to appear strong, Dean was always the weakest of his boys. John was sure that Dean's heart would get him killed if he wasn't careful.

"If there's one thing I have learned from hunting," John lectured his boys, "it's that things as powerful as your buddy over there can't be killed that easily. That should keep him down for awhile though."

"You meant to hit his shoulder?" Sam asked, incredulously.

John frowned. "You need to have another shooting contest, Sam? I know it's been awhile since I last kicked your and Dean's ass at it, but I thought you'd still know I never miss."

Sam turned his attention back to his bleeding friend. "He looks weak, Dad. I've never seen him this messed up before."

"You ever see him do that magic shit before either?" John asked accusingly. "Did you know he sucked demon cock for magic?"

Dean flinched at his father's choice of words. Sam glared at his father warningly before nodding his head at Dean.

"Dean?" Sam called to Dean; unnerved at the awkward distance his brother was keeping himself at. "You mind giving me a hand here?"

Dean nodded and slowly began approaching his brother, his father, and his fallen Harry.

"You never answered my question, son," John pointedly asked Sam.

"He didn't know," Dean answered for Sam. At John and Sam's suspicious looks he quickly added, "Neither of us did."

John eyed both of his sons carefully before nodding in acceptance.

"So what do we do now?" Dean asked, warily looking at the rifle in his father's hands.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Sam said, keeping his already bloodied hand on Harry's shoulder wound.

"I made sure not to hit anything too damaging," John boasted. "A trip to the Bobby Singer Hospital will be good enough… for now."

"For now?" Sam echoed his father's words, also eyeing his father's rifle. "What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what I said," John answered with a tone of finality. "Get him in the car. We're leaving. Now."

South Dakota

When Harry woke, he was in a strange prison cell with only a thin mattress separating his sore back from the metal springs of the cot.

Harry groaned as he sat up. His shoulder burned with the familiar sensation of his magic healing a major trauma. Harry had certainly come to recognize the feeling after spending so much time with Meg and her torture toys.

Harry took stock of his cell. The room had one circular wall that was built entirely of an unknown metal. Harry tapped the wall and listened to the resulting metallic echo. The light from the room came from the ceiling, where a large fan rotated slowly under the opening. A protective grate, sealed to the ceiling from the inside, was in a familiar pattern. Harry recognized it as a Devil's Trap, a symbol used to entrap demons inside of it, from one of the many books Bobby had given him to read.

The cement floor had the same pattern but large enough to cover the entire floor, spreading from the center. Harry noticed that the floor was faded slightly from the sunlight except for one section of the room where something had been moved out of the cell. From the rectangular outline of the missing item, it was a large box or several boxes stacked together. Across from the cot was a black and white evocative picture of a woman in a one-piece bathing suit.

Dean would love it, Harry thought wryly of the poster.

Harry turned to face the last interesting aspect of the cell; a large metal door with a series of bars where a small window was placed. Harry had seen in TV shows that many cells had these windows for people to speak to prisoners. Harry walked to the door and knocked on it several times.

The metal window slid open within seconds and Bobby's face appeared on the other side.

"Bobby?" Harry asked, surprised to see a familiar face keeping him prisoner.

"About time you woke up," Bobby replied with his usual charm. "How do you like the place?"

Harry eyed the room critically. "It could use some color."

Bobby grinned and then closed the window. Harry couldn't hear anything outside of the cell door. For a moment Harry wondered if Bobby was never going to return, but then metallic sounds began grinding in the door.

The door swung open and Bobby entered with a small handgun held in front of him. Harry took the hint and backed up to the small cot until the back of his knees connected with the metal bedsprings. In Bobby's other hand was a small plastic bin.

"This room was originally designed to be a panic room," Bobby said, setting the bin down on the bed next to Harry. "It took me a long time to build it without anyone, or anything, noticing."

Bobby opened the bin and Harry couldn't help but take a quick peak inside. He saw gauze and some other medical supplies. Harry's stomach gave an instinctive growl at the wrapped sandwiches and water bottle in the pin.

"The metal walls are solid iron and embedded with salt," Bobby said, continuing his explanation of the panic room as if he'd never paused.

"And the poster?" Harry asked, cracking a hesitant smile.

"Who doesn't like Bo Derek?" Bobby answered the question with a question. "Point is, whatever you are, you can't get out of here."

Wouldn't bet on it, Bobby, Harry thought to himself.

"Don't worry, Harry," Bobby said, tossing him a sandwich, "I told them that it was really you, even if you… aren't the same Harry that we thought we knew."

Harry nodded in thanks and began unwrapping the sandwich. It was warm so Bobby had been sitting outside his cell for a while, but Harry didn't mind. He was too hungry to really care, but he did cast a non-verbal testing charm to check for potions.

"Afraid I won't take the medicine directly, Bobby?" Harry asked, holding up the sandwich to represent the results of his testing charm. Bobby had laced the food with medicine, which, Harry supposed, was a better option than if the food had had something more harmful in it.

Bobby raised his eyebrows at Harry's ability to detect the medicine. "You know what's in the food?"

Harry shrugged before taking a large bite out of the sandwich. "I assume you guys don't trust me because of my abilities?"

"Could be worse," Bobby reasoned, taking out the medical supplies. "John almost killed you at the site."

Harry took another bite.

"I need to check your wound," Bobby said. "Off with the shirt."

Harry sighed and shoved the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. He hiked up the right hand side of his shirt and lifted it to rest next to his neck. Harry let the bulk of the shirt fall across his chest so that Bobby could get a clear look at the wound.

Bobby uneasily stared at Harry's shoulder. "The wound is gone."

"It healed," Harry replied.

Bobby nodded, clearly unnerved at the proof of Harry's abilities. Bobby started packing away the unneeded medical supplies into the bin. He tossed Harry the second sandwich and began walking towards the door.

"You don't even want to ask about my abilities?" Harry asked, curious as to Bobby's lack of curiosity.

Bobby paused at the threshold of the door.

"Sorry, Harry, but it won't be me who's asking those questions."

John Winchester arrived a few days later.

Bobby had shown up three times a day, each time with food and water. Harry had caught random glances of a very tall figure outside the door that he assumed was Sam. If it was, Sam had not made an effort to speak with him. According to Bobby, John and Dean had been away on a hunt.

"How did your hunt go?" Harry asked from where he was seated on the cot.

"How'd you know I was out hunting?" John asked sharply.

Harry shrugged. "Bobby mentioned you and Dean being gone."

"Bobby shouldn't have been speaking to you at all," John muttered. "I'll speak with him about that."

"So what were you hunting?"

"You really want to know?" John asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. When Harry nodded John added, "We were hunting you."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Well… that's awkward."

"It was nice of you to share so many personal details with Dean," John said, dragging a metal chair into the center of the room and taking a seat facing Harry. "It helped us to check out your background information."

Harry smirked. "Any luck?"

"Whoever made your identity did a very thorough job," John complimented.

"Thanks, my guy rocked," Harry replied. Harry had tracked down a superb forger named Chet in New York City after he'd first arrived in this new world. Harry had paid for his fake paperwork by making the Chet's workshop undetectable. Chet was a far cry from a bad person, just someone using their skills to pay the bills.

"So is this what you do?" John questioned, waving a hand at Harry's direction. "You impersonate a human being, infiltrate them and then kill them?"

"No," Harry sighed. "I've never done that."

"There's no record of you existing before going to college with my boys," John said, holding up a print out of Harry's Stanford ID and driver's license. "At least nothing that wasn't added by the person who made your identity... if it is a person."

"He's human, and he's also a pretty good cook," Harry joked.

"I don't think you're taking this seriously enough," John commented, calmly taking his gun out and resting it against the top of his thigh.

"Than ask me something serious," Harry responded, leaning back against the wall to put more distance between himself and the gun in John's hand.

"What are you?" John asked immediately.

"I'm human."

John cocked the gun. "Humans can't do what you did the other day in Nebraska."

"Most humans don't go hunting the supernatural," Harry pointed out.

"So what's your point?"

"Maybe I can be human and unique all at the same time."

"You weren't very human when you burned those demons' host bodies to death."

"And you weren't very human when you put a bullet into their brains, either," Harry shot back.

John grinned at him. "I see why Dean liked you… before he found out what you were, that is."

Harry tried to mask the pain he felt at John's statement. "I'm not surprised that Dean doesn't want to see me."

"I've seen some powerful witches in my dead, only made more powerful by their demonic masters," John explained. "I've never seen someone use magic like that, though."

"Funny," Harry said darkly. "You sound just like Azazel before he had his daughter, Meg, torture me."

"Why did Azazel do that?" John asked. "Aren't you working with him?"

"Azazel killed my friend, Jess's fiancée," Harry responded angrily. "I almost died trying to stop him. Don't you dare accuse me of being in league with that piece of shit."

"I almost believe you."

The day after John's first interview Sam brought Harry's food in Bobby's stead. Harry stood to greet him awkwardly, but he had no idea of what to say to his friend. He didn't even know if Sam still liked him or now hated him.

"I heard my Dad gave you a hard time the other day," Sam said shyly, handing Harry a tray of food. "Hope he wasn't too hard. He can be a tough guy."

Harry hesitated before he took the food. "I was wondering when you'd make a visit."

"Been a little busy, Harry," Sam lied.

"Doing what? Guarding my cell door?"

Sam ducked his head. "It's not like this is your prison or anything."

"It's not?" Harry asked in mock-surprise. "You mean I'm free to just get up, walk through that door, and I wouldn't be shot in the back?"

"Dad's just being careful," Sam explained.

"You think I'm dangerous, Sam?" Harry asked, eyes glued to every detail of Sam's expression. Harry watched the lines of Sam's face change, witnessed the tension in his best friend.

"I don't know what to think, Harry," Sam replied, the turmoil in his voice clearly turning to anger. "It's not like you were ever truthful with me."

"I just did the same thing you did, Sammy," Harry defended himself. "I lied about my past so that I could have a future."

"You didn't just lie about your past, Harry, you lied about being human."

Harry leaned forward into Sam's space. "I am human, Sam."

"A human that sold his soul to a demon for magic," Sam shot back.

"I was born this way, Sam," Harry replied. "And I don't use my abilties to hurt innocent people."

"I know, I saw you take out those demons."

"I also tried to save Jess, Sam. Azazel was just too strong."

Sam blinked away the water pooling in his eyes. "I'm sure Jess would have been thankful for that."

"I'm sorry I lied to you, Sammy," Harry admitted quietly. "Once I knew you were hunters, I had to keep up the pretense."

Sam nodded in understanding. "I get that, I do. I've just never met anything supernatural that I could trust."

"I'm not like the witches you have here, Sam. I'm different."

"I hope so."

The Singer Home

Dean found his younger brother in Bobby's makeshift library pouring over dusty books. Sam didn't even look up at Dean's entrance. Dean took a seat on the sofa and waited for Sam to break from his reading.

"You need something, Dean?" Sam asked without looking up.

Dean put his feet up on the oak coffee table and sighed. "What are you reading?"

Sam lifted the book's front without breaking eye contact with the page. Dean squinted but couldn't make out the title. He did see an occult symbol inscribed at the center of the book.

"Witchcraft?" Dean guessed. Sam nodded distractedly.

They lapsed into silence again before Dean coughed. "Why are you reading about witches again?"

Sam sighed. "Harry says he's a different kind of witch… or rather a wizard."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "He did?"

"Yeah, one who is naturally born with magic."

"There's nothing natural about it, Sam," Dean replied automatically.

Sam dropped the book onto the desk, finally looking Dean in the eye. For the first time, Dean saw that Sam's eyes were tainted red.

"Don't be cold about this, Dean," Sam demanded. "You care about Harry just as much as I do. Don't pretend you don't."

"I'm not pretending anything," Dean said dismissively, glancing away from his brother. "Doesn't mean I'm going to cry about it."

"Fuck you, Dean."

"Don't be a bitch, Sammy."

"I'm not playing, Dean." Sam stood up from behind the desk and began packing the occult books away. "You can't run from Harry, Dean. He's certainly not running from you."

"What does that mean?"

"You haven't seen him once, Dean. He's been down there for a week and you haven't visited him once." Sam took the box of books and stalked to the door. "You haven't even taken guard duty."

Dean leaped off the couch and blocked Sam's path. "You think I don't want to? You think that he's left my mind for one second since Nebraska?"

"Than deal with it, Dean. Go see him."

Sam pushed past Dean and walked out of the study leaving Dean in his wake.

The Panic Room

Harry and Dean stared at each other from across the panic room. Harry seated on his squeaky cot and Dean at the entranceway. Dean seemed content to just stare at Harry.

"My Dad said you were tortured," Dean said, finally breaking the tense silence.

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding.

"You look good," Dean said simply.

Harry chuckled nervously. "Thanks… I think."

"I meant you must heal fast," Dean clarified. "Faster than human."

"If one more person refers to me as something other than human I might explode," Harry complained frustrated. "It's enough to give a guy a complex or something."

"Right, you do spells and stuff."

"And stuff," Harry muttered.

Dean glanced around as if looking for something to make conversation about. Harry wasn't surprised when his attention stalled on the poster. "Bobby's got taste."

"I knew you'd like that poster," Harry joked.

Silence reined as Dean shuffled his feet. Harry took his time picking at the nails, content to wait for Dean to speak again.

"I feel like I should be saying something," Dean confessed. "Like I should be angrier or disappointed or something."

"So what do you feel, Dean?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Stupid, mostly."

"I make you feel stupid?" Harry asked, hurt. "Why?"

"I should have seen it," Dean said angrily. "You were a threat to Sam and I should have seen it. It was too convenient the way you were in our lives. I should have stopped you."

"Stopped me?" Harry echoed back, a hollow feeling settling within him.

"I didn't mean to say that."

"Out loud, you mean."

"I don't even know why I came here."

"Then leave, Dean. Just leave."

The Singer Home

Dean paced in front of Sam's closed door. Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair. Finally he knocked rapidly three times and waited for Sam to answer.

"Dean?" Sam asked, confused.

"I need to talk to you," Dean said, pushing his way into the room.

"Sure," Sam said, closing the door behind him. "Come right in."

Dean noticed the scattering of books that littered Sam's bed. Dean picked up one of the books. "You still reading this crap?"

"If you're just going to make fun of me, Dean, than just get out," Sam warned his older brother. "I have my own issues to deal with."

"Fuck it," Dean said after pacing for a moment.

"Does that mean you're going to tell me what's been eating you?" Sam asked. Dean nodded.

"You have to promise never to tell a soul, Sam," Dean said forcefully. This time it was Sam who was nodding in agreement.

"I think Harry put a spell on me," Dean muttered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Sam asked, confused.

"I think," Dean repeated slowly, "that Harry put a spell on me."

Sam let out a breath. "Okay, and why do you think that?"

"You know me, Sam," Dean said, laying out his case. "Since we were kids have I ever once been interested in a guy? Have I ever once had any interest in being monogamous?"

Sam smiled at the sight of Dean grimacing at the word 'monogamous'. "I don't know, Dean. Honestly, I tried to just ignore you and your conquests."

Dean grimaced. "Don't say it like that, Sam, it makes me sound so man-whore."

Sam wisely refrained from commenting.

"So?" Dean asked after Sam stayed silent for a minute. "What do you think?"

"How do you feel about Harry?" Sam asked cautiously. "I mean, when you're with him… do you get excited?"

"Dude!"

"Look I know this is awkward –"

"Damn right, it is."

"– but we never talked about your relationship with Harry," Sam finished. "We found out the same night that we thought he had died, and then you were mourning him…"

"I get it, okay?" Dean muttered in defeat. "This is one of those chick-flick moments I can never avoid. I get it."

"It might help to review it," Sam suggested hopefully. "Figure out if Harry did influence you or not."

"Okay, I guess."

"So," Sam said, quietly pleased that he was finally getting his questions about his brother and his best friend's relationship answered. "When did you meet?"

Dean blushed. "Awhile ago."

"Anything more specific?" Sam teased.

"It was the first night of your freshman year at Stanford."

"What? That long ago?"

Dean cleared his throat nervously. "Well, um, I may have been keeping an eye on you. Making sure your first day of school went well."

"You always did drop me off on the first day."

"What can I say? I'm a good big bro."

The Panic Room

Harry was surprised when it was Dean that opened the panic room door late that night.

"You came back," Harry noted hopefully.

Dean shrugged. "You're surprised?"

"I didn't think you wanted to see me…"

"I had a conversation with Sam," Dean explained. "He changed my mind."

"So you weren't going to come back," Harry muttered, sitting on the cot.

"I need to ask you something, Harry," Dean said seriously. "And don't lie to me or I really won't come back. Ever."

Harry nodded. "Okay, ask away."

"Did you ever do any of that… magic shit… on me?" Dean asked, shuffling his feet and only looking at Harry out of the corner of his eyes.

Harry thought for a moment. Dean didn't want him to lie, but Harry had never cast anything harmful on Dean. He could just lie and not risk Dean's anger on having been the subject of Harry's magic on a few occasions. Eventually Harry decided to do what Dean wanted and nodded truthfully.

Harry watched Dean's body tense up. Harry could see the anger in Dean's face. He knew his lover – former lover – well enough to read his silent expressions. Merlin, he hoped Dean was going to move on to another emotion soon.

"What did you do?" Dean growled, stalking closer to the cot. Harry scooted backwards on the bed.

"It wasn't anything harmful, Dean," Harry said quickly. "I swear."

"What. Was. It."

Harry blushed. "Remember that night at the dorm? After you showed up drunk and passed out against the door of Sam's dorm room?"

"Yeah, I remember," Dean admitted, also blushing. "That was my Stud Night."

"Oh, Merlin," Harry giggled, momentarily breaking the tension. "I forgot you called it that."

"Dude, I lasted hours!" Dean defended. "Why wouldn't I call it that?"

"Yeah, about that…"

Dean's eyes widened. "That was what… a sex spell?"

Harry nodded. "You didn't seem to mind."

"Any other sex stuff?" Dean asked nervously.

"Relax, Dean," Harry reassured him, "the only other sex stuff I did was to remove clothes and provide lubrication for myself."

"So the rest of the time…"

"Was all you and Big Dean," Harry finished with a small smile.

"So what else did you do with your magic mumbo-jumbo?" Dean asked, getting back on target.

"I think the only other spell was a tracking charm on your jacket," Harry answered. "Which I can mend, by the way. I know how much that leather means to you."

"Thanks," Dean replied. "And that was all? Really?"

"What do you think I did to you, Dean?"

Dean sighed. "Sammy was wondering if maybe your magic might have, you know, drawn us together."

Harry frowned. "Like with a love potion or something?"

"You can make those?" Dean asked worriedly.

"You really think I'd do that?" Harry asked angrily. "You think I duped you into this?"

"No," Dean answered shakily, "Sammy was just wondering. I know better."

"Don't lie, Dean," Harry said dejectedly. "If you have doubts about us than just say so. But don't use my magic as an excuse to hide from the truth. Not about you, or us."

"I'm not."

"Sure."

Dean walked over and knelt between Harry's legs. Dean laid his hands on Harry's jeans and ran his hands up his thighs to his hips. Dean's head disappeared under Harry's shirt and he put his tongue in Harry's navel as he started kissing his abdomen. Still too nervous to move, Harry just hummed with pleasure. Dean's fingers found their way into the belt loops and tugged. Harry lifted his body off the bed to aid in Dean's efforts to deprive him of clothing.

Harry leaned forward and mirrored Dean's action with the hem of Dean's shirt. The shirt slipped off of Dean's back and pulled it over the hunter's head. Harry bent down to nuzzle kisses at Dean's neck. While his hands were caressing Dean's naked back, Harry breathed in Dean's scent.

Dean climbed on to the mattress and on top of Harry. Dean kept grating his hips against Harry's causing several breathless moans, which he felt against his skin. Dean's dexterous hands found the bottom of Harry's t-shirt and expertly lifted it from him to expose more of his enticing body. Dean immediately made to devour the newly exposed skin with his tongue. Harry's nipples were drawn tense when Dean lavished attention to each one in turn drawing tiny gasps from the sleek specimen in his grasp.

Without interrupting the assault of each other's body, they managed to shed the remainder of their clothes. The two aroused lovers eventually came to stop, content to just hold one another again. Harry nestled his head back on Dean's shoulder while Dean allowed his lips to fondle Harry's ear. They continued to touch and brush the skin of each other with their hands losing any coherent thoughts in the sensual caresses. Dean wound his hand in Harry's soft hair and grasped it firmly to turn Harry's head and lay him over to the side and claim Harry's lips with his own in almost desperation. The fevered kiss was long and deep and left them breathless.

"I thought I'd lost you," Dean whispered painfully.

"I thought I was lost," Harry confessed back.

Dean smirked. "That was so touchy-feely I should be running for the door."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad you stayed then."

"We still have a lot to work out," Dean said, his expression absolutely serious. "You lied to me and I honestly don't know if I can trust you anymore."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Big Dean dug into Harry's thigh, drawing his attention away from Dean's face. Harry smirked.

"What?" Dean asked innocently. "I haven't gotten laid in forever."

Harry's expression and the hand on Dean's arm both tightened. "You really didn't sleep with anyone else? Even though you thought I was dead?"

Dean didn't answer verbally. Instead he pressed a kiss to Harry's lips and began the action again. Harry wasn't sure what kind of response that was meant to be but agreed to put it out of his mind… for the time being.

"Can you do that lube spell?" Dean asked breathily.

Harry nodded and mentally cast the spell. Dean's hand gently touched the cleft of Harry's buttocks and traced the crevice down to massage the warmed lubrication around the opening. When Dean began to slip his finger in and out of the constricted passage Harry whimpered with ecstasy.

"Please, Dean…more."

Dean obliged with another finger and then after awhile added another plunging them deep into the recess of Harry's body. Harry bit his bottom lip while the waves of sexual rapture wafted over his body.

"Yes….oh sweet Merlin, yes….Dean, now, please…"

Slipping his fingers from Harry, Dean positioned himself at the entrance to Harry's begging body and teased Harry's opening with the tip of Big Dean. Dean grinned.

"Do you want it, Harry?"

"Please..."

Dean slipped into Harry's tight split and Harry moaned with pleasure. Dean set a quick rhythm of thrusts into Harry's body continuing to plunge deeper and deeper as his ebony haired lover's opening allowed.

"Dean…yes…harder…"

Dean's hands gripped Harry's hips like a vice and pulled him back to meet every thrust and he bit his lip as he tried to control his imminent release. Dean continued to increase the pressure of his thrusts sending him further into the depth of Harry's body. Dean reached around to grab Harry and began to stroke it in time with his own plunges.

"Harry….fuck…yes," Dean wound his other hand in Harry's hair again and yanked his head back to whisper nonsense in his ear.

Upon hearing Dean's words breathed into his ear, Harry slammed his eyes shut, breathing heavily and feeling the onslaught of orgasm beginning to surge through his body. At last the searing euphoria burst within him flooding him with the joy of his release. Harry's body involuntarily jerked and the muscles surrounding Big Dean tightened.

With a fervid need, Dean drove himself into the taut crevice again and again, his body pleading for the mercy of relief. With a final whimper into Harry's neck, Dean's body expelled itself deep within Harry.

Dean lay his sweat drenched forehead on Harry's back while his body shook and trembled at the completion of his labor. Dean removed himself from Harry and wrapped his arms around him while they little by little regained in their speedy breaths.

When they were clean and dry, they climbed under the bed sheets and tangled themselves comfortably around one another. They each enjoyed a long silence of just holding and touching, sweet kisses and appreciating each other.

The rest could wait until morning.

Author's Note: The news that made my New Year's FANTASTIC is that "You Leave the World Behind" has been nominated for THREE awards in the Always Hoping Harry Potter Fanfiction Awards. The nominations were in the categories of "Best WIP", "Best Slash" and "Best Crossover". Scarletsptember was also nominated for her amazing writing talent. Voting hasn't begun yet, but you should definitely check out the site! It's awesome and the other fanfics nominated are definitely worth reading. Here's the link (just eliminate the spaces): http:// always-hoping . 110mb . com

I love my cliffhangers but I figured I'd give everyone a break from them. Especially since the next two chapters have the biggest, most shocking cliffhangers yet. Not kidding. Here's a hint: a plot point you guys have been seriously asking about since chapter 1 is brought into play… and that's a pretty blatant hint lol.

The next two chapters are the last two in the story before the epilogue. I go back to school next weekend so I'm going to do my best to get the next chapters out before then, but no promises.

How about a reward *cough* bribe *cough* for reviews? If we break, say, 700 reviews then I will post the chapter the Very. Next. Day.

If everyone leaves just one review we could have a new chapter by Tuesday :)

Thanks for reading and, as always, Don't Forget To REVIEW!!!