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 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: I know some of you may be mad that I took so long to write this. Please understand that I had a death in the family and needed to take a break from my extracurricular loves, including Fanfiction writing. Thank you to those who kept up with the story (even after the month long break) and sent such lovely words of inspiration. This chapter is dedicated to all of you in appreciation.
All mistakes are mine. I kind of rushed to get this out so there may be a few more mistakes than usual… sorry in advance.
Don't forget to read the Author's Notes at the end of the chapter…
You Leave the World Behind
Moriarty's Minion
Chapter 14:
"The Dark Night, Part 2"
"I am the captain of this body of mine,
I'll send fear into the enemy lines.
On the ground, in the air or at sea,
They're all pointing a finger at me.
I'm at war with the world,
I'll have to fight to be free.
Yes, I'm at war with the world,
Nobody's capturing me."
- Foreigner, At War With The World
Dean stared blankly at the space where Harry had just disappeared in a bright white light.
"Where'd he go?" Sam asked, stepping in to occupy the spot where Harry had just vacated.
"Who cares?" John grumbled, "The point is he's finally gone."
Dean didn't even realized what he was doing until his fist connected with his father's jaw. There was a sharp crack at the contact, likely indicating that the jaw and been dislocated if not broken.
There was a moment after John fell to the floor where Dean knew he could stop if he wanted to. But Dean didn't want to stop. Harry had been so patient, so good with Dean and his fucked up family. John just had to keep pushing, keep tearing apart his son's lives until all that was left was him.
Dean fell on top of his father and started wailing on him. Once John registered the fury and the power behind the fists attacking him, he started to fight back. It took Sam and Bobby to pull the two apart.
"Calm down, Dean," Sam muttered into his older brother's ear. His thick arm muscles were put to the test as Dean strained to break free of his hold. Sam linked his arms and squeezed until Dean had no choice but settle.
"I hate you," Dean spat at his father through gritted teeth. John glared back at him, the look intensified by the large bruise over his eye.
"He made you weak, Dean," John explained. "You thought you could trust him –"
"– I could trust him, you fuck!" Dean screamed, interrupting his father. "I do trust him!"
"Because he's blinded you to the truth!" John screamed back. "He's used his powers to make you trust him. You don't know what those freaks are like, Dean."
"And you do?" Dean shot back. "The only time you spent with Harry was underground… where Harry allowed us to keep him. He was trying to make a good impression on you, you asshole."
"You heard what that thing said, Dean, I knew his godfather Sirius," John said triumphantly. "Sirius was helping the demon, just like his godson is."
"Harry would never betray us," Dean declared. "If Sirius betrayed you it was for a reason. I doubt he had to look hard for one either."
"Don't you see what's he's done, Dean. Look at us," John said, throwing his hands up at the room around them. "We're at each other's throats because of him."
"We're in this mess because of you, Dad," Sam said, entering the conversation for the first time. Dean's fight against Sam's arms lessened slightly after hearing his brother siding with him. "Harry's had years to try to hurt us, and he's only ever done the opposite. He's my friend, and he's Dean's, too."
"I think we all know that Dean and that witch are more than just friends," John muttered darkly. "But that's my point: Dean would never choose a fuck over family."
"Watch your mouth, John Winchester," Bobby said quietly, his voice low and dangerous.
John seemed to stumble slightly when he realized that all three men in the kitchen, the only people he considered family, were all against him. But like all zealots, being in the minority opinion only fueled his ignorant arguments.
"You'll see," John promised them, "now that he's gone, the spells will wear off. Dean will be normal again… we all will."
Dean flinched as if he'd been struck as he heard his father say he wasn't "normal". Sam pulled him tighter in response but not because he was afraid it would set Dean off on another fight. Rather, Sam wanted to show some sign that he didn't think Dean was abnormal, that he supported him in whatever choices he made.
Especially when it came to Harry.
"Nothing is ever normal with us," Dean replied.
John stalked out of the room without another word. Sam released his brother, but Dean didn't try to move further away from him.
"I'll get some liquor," Bobby said, following John out of the kitchen. "I think you're father's had enough though."
Missouri found John in his attic bedroom, sitting on the floor next to his bed. On the floor to his right was a bottle of amber liquid.
"I wondered how long it would take you to come find me," John said, taking a swig right from the bottle.
"I don't think anyone else in the house really wants to find you, John Winchester," Missouri said hotly. "You damn fool."
John nodded. "If you're here to kick me, I'd rather do that later."
"I'd be right to kick you, a right good one where the sun don't shine," Missouri snapped, taking a seat on the bed. She snatched the bottle from his hand and took a sip herself. "But I'm only here to knock sense into you, nothing else."
"I thought you lost your gift," John said, staring accusingly at her.
"Doesn't mean I can't remember the visions I had before that poor boy's arrival," Missouri replied.
"Poor boy?" John echoed, disbelief evident in his voice. "You, of all people, are defending him? After he took away your sight?"
Missouri shook her head in disappointment. "Potter didn't take my sight, he simply started the chain of events that led to it. He's a good soul, John, you should be proud Dean found such a worthy mate."
"He's not Dean's mate."
"Really?" Missouri chuckled. "From what I've overheard that's about all they have time to do."
John scowled. "It's not right."
"What disgusts you more, John?" Missouri asked, honestly interested. "That your eldest is spending his nights with a man or that the man is a Wizard?"
"Dean deserves better."
"Better than someone who loves him?" Missouri pressed him. "Better than someone who would rather let his godfather's killer go free than hurt Dean? That boy would die for your son."
John let his hunter face falter for a moment, but it was long enough for Missouri to see the turmoil and pain beneath. John turned to look up at Missouri, desperation lacing his aging features.
"What if he's playing him the way Black played me? Dean and Sam might hate me for it, but I'm keeping them safe."
Missouri cupped his face gently. "Safe from what, honey?"
"From having to make choices like the one I made all those years ago," John confessed. "Deciding whether to kill your best friend or not."
"I always wondered what happened to Black," admitted Missouri. "One day the two of you were hunting down that demon, and the next…"
John nodded. "It's the only time I ever doubted myself."
"And now?"
John's turned away, his features hardening again. "I'm sure."
Before Missouri could respond, a door slammed downstairs and someone started pounding up the stairs.
Bobby's gruff voice began shouting the warning. "DEMONS!"
"Goddamn, smoky-eyed bastards think they can come onto my property," Bobby said angrily as he loaded yet another shotgun. "Well they can go right back to Hell."
"Sounds like a plan," Sam said as he and Dean ran into the living room.
"What have we got?" Dean asked, already going to the living room window to peek out of the dark curtains. "Where are they coming from?"
"Won't be able to see them yet, idjit," Bobby admonished him, handing Sam some bullets and directing him to the gun closet in the kitchen. "One of them set off a perimeter trap of mine. It's a few miles out."
"Perimeter trap?" Sam asked.
"How do you think I always know when you boys are coming up the road?" Bobby replied with a grin. "Now get your father and start boarding up the windows. They'll be here soon enough."
"How many?" John asked, striding down the staircase with Missouri in tow.
Bobby shrugged. "They set off one in the east as well, so at least two. More than likely a lot more."
John turned to Missouri. "You see any of this before everything went lights out?"
Missouri shook her head. "Only a slight probability. Never thought it would actually come to pass though."
"Well, clearly, it has so what do you know?"
Missouri paled. "If what I think is about to happen, is really about to happen, than we're going to need a lot more hunters."
John grunted angrily. "How many, Missouri?"
"All of the demons under Azazel that he could gather," Missouri answered. "Which is probably why he waited so long to come after you."
"Us," Sam corrected her. "You're here now, too."
"All this chit chat is great, guys," Dean said sarcastically. "But any chance we could get around to an actual plan sometime soon? Or should we just kiss our asses goodbye?"
"The panic room," Sam said immediately. "That's what it's meant for right?"
Bobby shook his head. "It would be mighty cramped. There's only one cot."
"I know Sam's a big dude, but I'm willing to squeeze if it means life," Dean remarked, throwing a grin at his brother.
"That's not the real problem," Bobby cut in before Sam could retaliate. "We moved all of the supplies out of the panic room while we were keeping Harry locked up. We wouldn't last a week in there."
"Good going, Dad," Dean spat.
"We don't have time for this, Dean," John rebuked him. "Let's live through this thing first. Then you can hate me all you want."
"Deal."
"If you two are done?" Bobby snapped angrily. "Missouri you help Sam board up the house. John will go to the roof and see if he can get a better look at our friends. Feel free to start playing sniper if you can, John. I'll keep loading the ammo while Dean starts packing emergency rations."
As Dean made his way to the kitchen he couldn't help but think how glad he was that Harry wasn't there. That he was safe… wherever he was in the world.
Harry and Castiel appeared on the outskirts of Bobby Singer's property where a small grouping of trees was situated. Harry could just make out the junk piles in the distance. He was just about to ask Castiel why they didn't return to the house, when Castiel made a silencing motion.
Castiel pointed at the closest junk pile. Harry frowned and followed Castiel's outstretched finger. At first he couldn't see much of anything, but then the clouds stopped blocking the moon. Moonlight filled the open terrain and Harry saw figures moving stealthily into the junkyard.
"These are some of Azazel's most devout demonic followers," Castiel whispered into Harry's ear. Harry jumped; not having realized how close the angel had come.
"I thought there would be more," Harry admitted quietly.
"Oh, there are," Castiel said, as uncaring as if he were commenting on the weather and not on enemy troops. "These are the last to arrive."
Gunshots could be heard coming from the direction of Bobby's house. Two pinpricks of light, which Harry could only assume to be Molotov Cocktails, turned into brighter lights. They were Sam's specialty.
"I have to get in there," Harry said, already moving to exit the protection of the trees and into the junkyard. Castiel's firm grip on his arm kept him in place.
"Not yet," the angel ordered. "You must let them thin the enemy's forces before you give up the element of surprise."
"And what if Dean is killed while I'm waiting?" Harry demanded angrily, snatching his arm from Castiel's grasp.
"You cannot protect him forever," Castiel replied calmly. "Dean Winchester is an excellent hunter. He will take care of himself."
"I would rather not anyone be killed," Harry said.
"Sometimes not even God can sway the fates mortals create for themselves. Especially those that lead to death," the angel answered. "You should not believe it to be in your control either, Harry Potter."
In the distance there was a volley of gunfire.
"Like hell it isn't."
The box of ammunition was low enough that Dean could start to see the bottom of the box beneath the ammo.
"We're going to have to think of a Plan B," he shouted to the others. And soon.
Half an hour ago they'd been forced to retreat back into the house. John hadn't wanted to give up their perimeter around the house, but they'd had no choice. The demons had moved in close enough to start fighting one on one with the hunters and that put them at a distinct disadvantage.
Now they were running out of ammunition and it was only a matter of time before one of the demons broke a hole in the wall large enough to climb through. Dean was sure that if not for John's sniper nest on the roof, they would have already been overrun. Although, even that advantage had been relinquished to the enemy.
"Agreed," Bobby shouted back before firing his shotgun into the crowd of demons. "We're going to have to make a run for the panic room."
"I'll get the packs," Missouri volunteered, going to get the food and medical supplies Dean had hastily put together before the first wave of demons had sprouted up.
"Good idea, but how are we supposed to get out of here again?" Sam asked. A less thoughtful demon punched a whole through a weak point in the wall and Sam used a nail gun to pin the hand to the inside of the wall. Outside the demon cried out in pain.
"We need a distraction," Dean muttered, looking around the living room. His eyes settled on the table Sam had been using to make his Molotov Cocktails.
He caught Sam's attention. "How much more of that shit you got?"
Sam shrugged. "Not much. Why?"
"Just an idea," Dean replied, giving one of his wolfish grins.
Harry decided to furtively track a pair of demons into the junkyard, hoping they would lead him to some main point where the rest of the demons would meet. Even if they led him to a point in the yard that the demons crossed fairly regularly than Harry could lie in wait and take out as many as possible at one time. Then it would be up to the hunters inside to take care of any stragglers.
Of course that was his plan until the demons laid a trap for him.
When the two demons Harry was tailing led him into a fairly open portion of the junkyard he started to get nervous. But it was when the two demons disappeared entirely that Harry knew he'd just been following the bait right into the mousetrap.
Sure enough, half a dozen demons – including the two he'd been following – started to appear. The way forwards was blocked by the two demons he'd been stalking. The way behind was being protected by what looked like a librarian and a janitor. A pair of unfortunate bikers, one male and one female, barricaded the only other escape route.
"Nice night for a walk," Harry tried to joke, but the demons merely growled at him like animals. Clearly these were demons meant for fighting and not for their strategic skills.
Harry decided that he'd rather strike first than suddenly be jumped by half a dozen demons. Harry did a silent game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe to figure out which demon pair he was going after first. The two he'd been following lost.
Harry feinted a run in the direction of the pair of possessed bikers. The bikers tensed for a fight, while the other four closed in on him with their guards slightly down. Harry rolled on the balls of his feet and shouted "INCENDIO!" at the two demons he'd been following.
This time it was they who fell for his trap. The two demons lit up like firewood, with the magic acting like gasoline. The librarian and the janitor both had to jump sideways to avoid their flailing comrades from igniting them as well.
The male biker landed a powerful blow to Harry's stomach, doubling him over. When the female biker stepped in to follow up the attack, Harry caught the woman's wrist and whispered the first curse that came to mind.
The demon began to scream in the woman's voice as her hand turned to ice. The curse acted like an infection racing to reach the victim's heart. The only difference was that it froze everything on the way.
With the demon's screams distracting her biker companion Harry charged the man. Harry tackled him into a junk pile, letting the metal and his velocity inflict all of the damage. Harry's cushioning charm saved him from being stuck by any unfortunate metal implements.
Not to be forgotten the librarian picked up a long piece of scrap metal and began to swing it like a baseball bat. Seeing his companion's success at keeping Harry on the defensive, the janitor found a metal chain and began to chase Harry. It was all Harry could do to dodge and not get hit. Eventually the demons would lose momentum and Harry would have time to cast a spell, but that might take forever.
So he decided to do what all great heroes do eventually… he ran.
Harry didn't have time to deal with two pesky demons when his cover was already blown. No, it was more important that he make it the house where he could be of more use. Once Harry reunited with the hunters they could make an attack front.
Harry weaved in and out of junk piles trying to avoid as many demons as possible. All of his seekers training had paid off as his stamina kept him going. Although, with all the sex he and Dean had been having during his captivity, Dean might be equally responsible for his increased stamina.
By the time Harry was in sight of the house he had almost a dozen demons hot on his trail. Which was unfortunate because the outside of the house resembled a scene from Night of the Living Dead more than anything else. Swarms of demons were literally tearing at the walls with their inhuman strength, trying to break inside.
Harry was stuck between a dozen demonic pursuers and the rest of Azazel's forces surrounding Bobby Singer's home.
But, being Harry Potter, Harry's luck could only make things worse. The hunters inside were shooting indiscriminately at the crowds of demons. Now that Harry was being forced to run at the house, he was now included in the firing range.
A bullet zipped by Harry's head and downed one of the demons that were pursuing him. A second shot nearly took of Harry's own skull. Harry immediately dropped to the ground and started firing curses at his pursuers.
Fireballs erupted from Harry's outstretched palms, taking down one demon at a time. But there were simply too many coming at him from the junkyard. It was only a matter of time before the demons at the house realized they had an enemy soldier as easy pickings behind them.
By the time the first demon had reached him, Harry had killed seven of the demons with his fireballs. That left five to kill him, but it would only take one.
Harry's legs were pulled so hard he was afraid someone was trying to yank them off his body. He let out a shout of panic as he was dragged back down the hill towards the junkyard. A mud-covered boot kicked his face on the way.
"Get up, slave," one of the demons ordered him.
When Harry tried to sit up the same disgusting boot kicked him in the side. Harry coughed up some blood onto the soil.
"I thought you wanted me up!" Harry yelled angrily. Another blow, this time from a fist, hit his ribcage.
"That was him," said a different voice. "I want you in the mud, human, where you belong."
Another blow.
"I said get up!"
A hard slap to the face.
"Your master ordered you to stay down!"
A knee to the face.
"Lick my boots, slave!"
A painful kick to his shoulder blade sent him sprawling face first into the mud. Someone pressed firmly on Harry's face, smothering him with soil. Harry started to choke on the foul earth.
"Here's one we can all agree on," said a third voice, full of evil humor. "Die!"
At the midway point between the living room and the kitchen's rear door, the group prepared to leave the relative safety of the Singer house and make a risky run for the panic room.
They stood in two single-file lines right next to one another. Dean was at the head of the left line and Sam at the head of the right one. Missouri stood behind Dean, clutching the emergency supply packs in each hand. John and Bobby brought up the rear of each line.
All of the hunters were armed with the remaining cache of weapons, which is why Missouri was forced to carry the supplies. John and Bobby continued to fire from the back of the line to keep up the pretense that they were still in the living room. Meanwhile Dean and Sam lit the bottles of alcohol in their hands as if they were torches.
"Everybody ready?" Dean asked, not really waiting for an answer. "On the count of three we make a break for the scrapheap. One… Two… THREE!"
On three, Sam kicked open the rear kitchen door. Dean and Sam led the group out into the chaos of the open air. Sam and Dean began to chuck the bottles with abandon, giving only enough time for Missouri to light the cloth that stuck out of their tops. John and Bobby provided cover fire until the last of the cocktails were thrown.
Fire consumed the world. The demons were forced back by the flames. The few demons that didn't mind the pain simply ran through the fire. These were the demons that John and Bobby shot in the head.
Their surprise explosives would only by them so much time, so the group made the most of what little time they had. Missouri stumbled slightly as they descended the hill leading to the junkyard, but Bobby was right there to pick her back up.
It was when they reached the base of the hill that Sam spotted a small group of demons not paying any attention to them.
"What's with them?" Sam shouted to Dean.
The demons turned as they heard Sam's voice. The one in front's eyes widened as it witnessed a horde of demons running down the hill after the hunters.
It was the last sight the demon ever saw.
Harry, who had been in the process of being suffocated by these demons, wasted no time in using this distraction. He held out both hands and blasted the demons to kingdom come. By the time the flames died there was nothing left of the demon but ashes and mud.
"Harry?"
Harry jerked his attention to the hunters that had distracted his captors. He smiled when he recognized Dean's voice.
"Harry run!"
As the hunters disappeared into the stacks of junk, a fresh wave of demons tumbled down the hill after them. Harry tried to run after them but his magic had yet to heal all of his injuries. He jogged through the pain, wheezing until his broken rib finally healed.
When he finally caught up to the hunters they were surrounded by the demonic mob. Anger was cemented in every demon face. Every set of eyes was filled with black smoke. The hunters were clearly out of ammunition.
So why hadn't the demons moved in for the kill yet? Harry wondered. Not that he wasn't relieved to see that they hadn't done so.
That's when Harry saw him. On the far side of the mob, the crowds were parting to create a walkway. Sure enough, Azazel, in all his dark glory, was making his way through his demon followers and to the group of hunters.
"Hello, John," the demon said, his yellow eyes appearing like a crocodile's second set of eyes would. "What a lovely evening for bloodshed."
"I think it could use a little more," John quipped. "Want to volunteer?"
Azazel chuckled. "Not until we've resolved our little… situation."
"Situation?" John echoed. "What situation?"
"You have something I want," Azazel explained. "To be honest, you have several items I desire. Though, at the current time, I'm willing to settle for just the Colt."
"If it's a gun you wanted, there's plenty in the house," Dean interrupted. "Or I could shove this one right up your –"
"Dean!" Bobby cut him off.
Azazel merely laughed. "Such bravado in this one. I can see why young Harry took a liking to him."
Harry could almost hear the wheels turning in John's head at that comment. Harry was hardly surprised when the first words out of Daddy Winchester's mouth were, "So you are working together!"
Azazel's eyes widened in surprise, but he gave no other indication of whether he was confirming or denying the accusation. Most likely he was amused to see the great John Winchester's paranoia getting the best of him.
"I'll tell you what," Azazel said, stepping closer to the group. "You give me the Colt and I'll tell you everything you want to know about our witch friend. I'll even let you live."
"I don't make deals with the devil," John spat.
"You flatter me, John," Azazel replied. "But I think we both know I'm not quite up to Lucifer's standards… at least, not yet."
Both John and Azazel looked at Sam. John looked away as soon as he realized what he was doing. Azazel gave him a triumphant grin before backing further towards the demon side of the crowd.
That's when Harry got his idea. If only he could get Azazel to go right into the crowd of demons, it just might work. Regardless he didn't see any other way out for the hunters.
Harry began to pull at the pools of magic he had locked away. Every ounce of magical reserves he had began to tie together. He used his Occlumency skills to block out the rest of the world and just focus.
In his mind he created a replica of the world around him, namely, the junkyard. He tried to pull in as many of the details as he could to make the design as identical as possible. Albus always told him that the more he could add to the mental image the better his magic would react to the surrounding once unleashed.
Harry imagined that he had spider webs of magic to work with. He began to attach pieces of the web to the piles of cars and trash that had built small hills around the site. He then linked it to the next row and the one beyond that. He continued to loop and tense and string his magical webs until he had the construct around him.
When he opened his eyes he began to slowly loosen his ties on his magic. The hot, thick mass of power that was produced began to waft invisibly through the air. The anchors of the web found the same place in the real world as they had in Harry's imagination. Within minutes everything was in place.
Harry just hoped that he didn't end up hurting any of his friends in the process.
"For the last time, I'm not giving you that gun!" John shouted.
Shit, Harry thought. Some serious time must have passed.
Clearly the negotiation side of things was coming to an end. Azazel was looking less amused and more bored. It would only be a matter of time now before…
"Look around you, John," Azazel instructed him sternly. "This is the end of the road. The closing chapter of our feud. You, your friends, and your sons will be torn limb from limb by my friends."
John, for the first time since Harry had known him, actually looked defeated. He stared for a long time at his sons.
"Dad?" Sam asked worriedly.
"You boys know how much I… how proud I am, right?"
"Of course," Sam said. Dean nodded reluctantly.
"Are you really prepared to watch your sons die, John?" Azazel asked. "Over a gun?"
Harry's stomach churned at the thought. He imagined it must be even more tempting for John to give up the gun more than ever. At that moment Harry knew that John would give Azazel the gun. Of course he would, because Azazel was right… without Harry it would really be the end of the road for the Winchesters. John Winchester would do anything to save his sons, absolutely anything.
But Harry was there. And he wasn't waiting another second.
Just as John opened his mouth to give in to Azazel, used his wandless magic to feel for the "reins" of the spider web. When he had a firm magical grasp on them, he tested their placement by giving a slight tug. All around the mob small pieces of junk appeared to shiver. A soda can even rolled off a car's hood and fell to the ground behind one of the demons.
Harry cast the strongest protego charm he could around the hunters. Unfortunately its protection would be weakened because it had to fit around such a large crowd of people.
Azazel sensed the use of magic around the hunters and began to shout a warning, but Harry beat him to the punch. Harry pulled on his magical web with all of his strength. Whole cars, dumpsters, scraps of metal, and more began to tumble towards the center of the junkyard. The unlucky demons on the edges were crushed by the falling tons of metal. Those closest to the hunters were luckier and began to flee their possessed hosts in their smoke-like forms.
As Harry looked up, the sky appeared to have a cloud of pure black that was pulsating against the wind.
"What the hell just happened?" Bobby asked, as he patted himself looking for wounds from flying metal shrapnel.
"Looks like the whole junkyard came down on them," Sam noted. He grimaced at the trail of blood that was leaking out of the implosion site.
"Ten bucks says we have a certain witch-boy to thank," Missouri said shakily, staring at the metal that should have crushed them. John huffed but otherwise wisely kept quiet.
"Make it a case of beer," Dean said with a grin.
"Did he have to destroy the whole damn thing?" Bobby asked wryly.
"Would you rather I let them kill you, Bobby?" Harry's voice called from beyond the circle of destruction that trapped the hunters.
From outside the circle Harry began to magically move the metal heaps and bodies that littered the junkyard. Eventually he created enough of a path so that they could walk single file from the center of the circle. When the last car was moved out of the way, Harry greeted them with a smile.
"Hey, Harry," Dean greeted calmly, his gigantic grin betraying his true reaction.
"Hey, Dean," Harry replied, looking faux casual.
"You two are ridiculous," Bobby huffed, pushing past Harry and walking steadily away from the destruction. "And you're cleaning this up tomorrow."
Harry laughed but the pain in his ribs hadn't faded yet. His face turned into a grimace and Dean was at his side in a flash.
"You okay?" Dean asked, steadying Harry with his hands.
Harry nodded. "Just a little banged up from earlier."
Dean began gently checking Harry over for injuries.
"Dean," Harry sighed in exasperation, "I said I'm fine."
Dean cupped Harry's face in one hand, forcing him to stare into Dean's eyes. "You telling the truth or are you just playing the hero?"
Sam cleared his throat to break up the intimate pose. "I think I'm going to just… yeah, I'm gonna go. Dad? Missouri?"
Dean kept his head turned towards Harry so that only he could see the eye roll he gave in response to Sam's declaration. Harry stiffened slightly at the reminder of John Winchester's presence. Dean's grip tightened and his eyes pleaded with Harry not to react. They remained in that pose until everyone had left.
Well… almost everyone.
"Yes, Missouri?" Harry asked, taking Dean's hand and turning them both to face the ex-seer.
"That was a pretty grand display of power, sugar," Missouri said, looking around at the metal carnage that surrounded the trio. "Very impressive."
"Thanks... I think," Harry replied, smiling slightly at the woman.
"I take it you won't be using such power against John Winchester?"
Harry felt Dean stiffen next to him.
"I… of course, not," Harry said immediately, trying to comfort Dean. Although Harry knew he was lying. He couldn't just forgive and forget, not when it came to Sirius.
"Too bad," Missouri said.
It took a moment for Harry to process what Missouri had said. Did she really want Harry to kill Dean's father?
"Excuse me?" Dean barked. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Missouri replied, her eyes turning a sickening shade of yellow, "that our witch friend needs some motivation."
Dean pulled his gun out and instinctively stepped in front of Harry. Missouri waved her hand and Dean's weapon was ripped from his hand. The gun went flying in a high arc and disappeared beyond the circle of rubble.
Harry spun around Dean and shot a stunning spell at Missouri. He needed to stop Azazel, not kill Missouri. Azazel deflected the stunning spell back at Harry with a simple flick of his wrist. Harry and Dean dove apart from each other to avoid the streaking red blur of magic. Harry flipped back into a fighting stance and took aim at Azazel.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Azazel cautioned. "Unless of course you'd like for me to skewer your lover?"
Dean was on his knees, his hands held up as if he were surrendering to a police officer. Behind him a long metal pole had its jagged edge poised behind Dean's back, ready to run him through. Harry lowered his hands to show he was complying with Azazel.
"Good boy," Azazel said, circling closer to the pair.
"I thought you'd have fled with the rest," Harry commented, closing his hands into angry fists.
Azazel shrugged. "Normally I would have, but that weak point in your shield was just too tempting an opportunity to pass up. Although I will miss my old bag of bones."
"Kill him, Harry," Dean urged him, grimacing as the metal poked him slightly.
"Harry is smarter than that," Azazel corrected Dean. "He knows that if all I wanted was the lot of you dead, I would have struck while everyone was still here."
"Than why didn't you?"
"I'll admit it was the plan, but then your father gave me such a lovely idea," Azazel continued, smiling proudly. "He honestly thought we were working together. It made me realize that for the first time in our little battle that John Winchester had lost the faith of his troops… his own blood. All thanks to you, Harry."
"That man makes his own bed," Harry corrected angrily. "I didn't do anything."
"So modest," Azazel replied. "But really, I can see how angry you are with him. You're just a tiny little push from murderous rage, aren't you? Don't bother denying it; I've felt that anger myself thanks to John Winchester. He is rather frustrating isn't he?"
"Are you getting to a point sometime soon?" Dean demanded, not liking the direction Azazel's talk was going in.
"My point is rather simple. I need John Winchester dead, but I need that Colt even more," Azazel explained. "You're going to get me both, Harry."
"I'm not helping you," Harry declared, straightening slightly.
"Oh, I think you will," Azazel countered, his smirk blossoming impossibly wide on Missouri's face. "Even if not just to kill the man who killed your godfather than to save the life of the one you love."
Harry's eyes widened as he realized what Azazel was going to do a moment before he did it. The metal pole reared back and then penetrated Dean until the hunter was directly in the center of it. Dean slumped to the ground, screaming in pain. Harry cried out in shock and anger before racing to Dean's side.
"Dean?" Harry yelled. "Dean!"
Blood drizzled from Dean's mouth. His eyes remained unfocused. His breathing became shallow… too shallow. Harry could tell that consciousness was fleeing Dean's mind.
"He's not dead," Azazel whispered into Harry's ear. "There's still time to save him."
"How?" Harry asked, hatred dripping like venom off of his words.
"Convince Winchester to bargain with me," Azazel instructed. "His life and the Colt for Dean's continued life."
"He won't believe me," Harry exclaimed. "You picked the wrong person. He thinks we're working together!"
"You'll have to convince him, Potter," Azazel replied. "Or Dean will be a long term occupant in the pit."
"Give me Missouri," Harry argued. "John will believe her."
"She'll try to stop you," Azazel warned him. "She won't work with you willingly. She knows… things. Things that will distract you from your task."
Harry gripped Missouri's shirt collar and pulled her body in close. "Like you said, I'll have to be convincing."
Azazel smiled and yanked himself away from Harry. "Very well. There's a summoning spell. When the time comes to use it, John will know how to perform it."
Harry nodded to show he understood. Azazel began to walk towards the path.
"Azazel," Harry called out to him. "I want something from you, too."
"Oh?" Azazel asked, amused. "And here I thought Dean's life was enough."
"It is, but I want something to sweeten the deal as it were," Harry replied. "When it comes to it, I want to be the one to kill John Winchester."
Azazel's grin was brighter than the moonlight. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
"I made a promise to an Angel to not kill John Winchester, though," Harry explained quickly. "I'm assuming you have a way of getting things done without them knowing?"
"Of course," Azazel replied. "I'll take care of it."
Harry turned back to Dean, trying to heal the wound with his magic. Azazel had known how depleted Harry's magic would be after crashing the junkyard. There was no way he'd be able to save Dean on his own. They needed help.
"Oh, and Harry," said Azazel, turning back to face the wizard. "I'd hurry. Dean doesn't have much time left. I'd say… twenty-four hours."
The walk back to Bobby's was hectic and awkward.
Harry was afraid of removing the metal from Dean before his full healing abilities had returned. So Harry simply made the pole weightless and magically levitated Dean, moving slowly so that he didn't cause further damage. He kept trying to think of some other way, besides Muggle medicine, to heal Dean before Azazel's deadline. There wasn't enough time for his magic to return and Azazel knew that.
Missouri shuffled along beside him. So far she had been comfortable giving him judging looks in the place of a lecture. Harry was sure that her silence would be broken sooner or later.
All he cared about was getting Dean to a hospital.
"You can't just kill John Winchester, Harry," Missouri said, finally breaking her silence.
"I know that," Harry growled. "But if it's the only way…"
"And you expect me to believe that it has nothing to do with the fact John claims to have killed your godfather?"
"I don't care what you believe."
"Well, you should," Missouri replied, grabbing Harry's arm. "Did it ever occur to you that John Winchester is a world class liar? That he might be claiming to have killed a certain someone, but didn't?"
Harry stopped. "Azazel said you'd try to stop me. That you'd try to distract me from saving Dean."
"I'm telling you the truth," Missouri said desperately. "You may not hold much love for John Winchester but he's the only shot you have for finding Sirius Black. Trust me on this."
Harry's resolve flickered. What is she was telling the truth? What is Sirius was still alive? Could he risk Dean's life on such a gamble?
"I'll do whatever it takes to save him," Harry muttered more to himself than to Missouri. His eyes stayed glued to Dean's bleeding form.
Missouri seemed to realize that she was losing Harry's attention and thus her argument. "Dean won't forgive you for this!" she yelled.
"He'll never know," Harry replied.
"You can't keep me quiet, Harry," Missouri shouted. "I won't let you make this mistake."
"You won't have a choice," Harry said, stepping close enough to Missouri to place his hands on her head. She struggled but it was too late, his spell was cast.
"Obliviate."
Author's Note: Next chapter is the epilogue where we see John's deal. But don't count Harry out just yet… he's got a few tricks up his sleeve. It will also resolve some of the unanswered issues from this chapter, too.
Stay tuned for the epilogue for several reasons. Firstly, it has a killer cliffhanger that relates to this chapter's cliffhanger (Missouri's "distracting" information). Second, it has all the information on the sequel!
Also, don't forget to show your support by voting in the Always Hoping Fanfiction Awards. You Leave the World Behind was nominated for a total of THREE categories! Here's the link (just eliminate the space)… http:// always-hoping . 110mb . com
Expect the epilogue to be posted Sunday or Monday!!!
As always, REVIEWS are greatly appreciated!!!