Chapter 4

The alarm clock went off at 5am, Harry reached over and shut it off with a grunt. Throwing his blanket off of himself, he got out of bed.

"You got fifteen minutes to get ready, shrimp or I'm getting the hose," Sam said sticking his head in the door.

"We don't have a hose, Uncle Sam," he said scratching the back of his head.

"Then I'll use a bucket," Sam threated raising his eyebrows.

"O.K., o.k., I'm up."

Outside Sam was waiting with his arms folded across his chest, "first, lets start with some stretches."

Sam showed Harry several different stretches, the boy could be athletic with the proper excercise he thought looking over at his nephew. The two began running, Harry did good for the first quater of a mile and then started to tire out. Sam told him not to try to keep up, just run at his own pace. After a two mile run he sent Harry to see his grandfather down in the shooting range.

"Morning," John said looking his grandson over, "you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry shrugged.

"O.K., lets start," John said motioning his grandson towards one of the booths in the shooting range. "We'll start with your stance, feet shoulder width apart dominant foot forward, good, now without the gun, finger off the trigger until your ready to shoot, good, o.k. lets try it with the real thing, once you get use to the training I'll leave out different caliber guns and a box of ammunition for each, I expect you to use it all up."

"Yes, sir."

"Good, now lets start with the .22 caliber," John showed Harry how to load the small semi-auto and where the safty was stressing how important it was to always make sure it was on and never to point the gun at anything that he didn't intend to shoot.

Harry fired his first shot, the recoil surprised him and John told him to get back into stance. Finishing off the clip, John had him go to the next one in line, til he had tried all five of the handguns, the last one beening a 9mm.

John explained to him the best way to adjust his aim, "I didn't expect you to do perfectly, but you didn't do too bad," he smiled clapping his grandson on the shoulder.

Harry smiled back, "thanks, grandpa."

"Now, get a light breakfast and meet your dad for hand-to-hand combat training."

Harry walked into the training room, seeing thick pads on the walls and floors with a wooden target set up in the back. Standing in the middle was his father, bare chested, with only a pair of sweat pants and a pair of padded fingerless gloves.

"Take off your shoes and sweatshirt, then put these on," Dean said throwing a smaller pair of gloves to Harry. He did as his father told him, gulping down his fear he stepped onto the mats. "Alright, now what I'm going to teach you is not going to help you beat up Rocky,"

"Who's Rocky?"

"Nevermind, what I am going to teach you is how to defend yourself, quick moves that will destract your opponent so you can get away to safty, understand?"

"Yes, sir."

After showing Harry several blocks, grabs and shoves, teaching him to knock his opponent off balance and get away. Dean walked over to one of the benches and picked up a small forearm strap with three throwing knives in it.

"These are solid silver, I expect you to wear these at all times even at school."

"But dad...," Harry trailed off.

"Especially, at school," Dean emphasized.

"Yes, sir."

"Now the best way not to get caught in a hand-to-hand confrontation, especially with something that's faster and stronger then yourself is to take it out from a disstance. They'll be times when your not able to carry a gun, that's where these come in," Dean pulled out one of the knives and expertly threw it at the target. He began teaching Harry how to hold them properly. Then how to throw them, sticking them deeply into the wooden target. When they were done training Dean told him to hit the showers and meet his Uncle Sam in the library.

Seeing his Uncle typing on the computer, Harry entered, " so you ready to hit the books?" Sam asked.

"So what are you going to teach me?"

"What I'm going to teach you, mini-Dean, is how to trap, repel, and kill mosters and spirits, first lets start with vampires and werewolves those are the most common mosters we run into, what do know about them?" Sam asked.

"Well, vampires suck blood, they can be repeled by garlic and you kill them by driving a stake through their heart, as for a werewolf they change into a man-beast at the full moon and as for killing them silver I guess it doesn't matter wheather it's a bullet or a silver tipped arrow," Harry said in questioning manner.

"Is that a question or an answer?" Sam said giving his nephew a stern look.

"Answer," Harry nodded his head.

"O.K., well you got a few things right, there's tons of lore on both, unfortunately most of it's crap, while drinking blood is real the only way to take out a vampire is decapitaion."

Harry's eyes went wide and round, "I don't know if I can do that, Uncle Sam?"

"What I'm teaching you, you may never use, but you need this knowledge to survive," he explained.

"Alright."

"The things that we do know for a fact, is that they have retactable teeth that decend when they attack, they are immortal so they don't age and sunlight causes them pain but doesn't kill, more like a nasty sunburn, you following me so far?" When Harry nodded his head Sam continued, "they live in nests that have anywhere from eight to ten members, great way to incompacitate them is to use dead man's blood, it works like a poison and like I said before the best way to kill them is decapitation."

"So what happens when you get bit, what I mean is do turn into one of them?"

"No, you have to ingest the blood," Sam explained.

"Why are all these monsters so bloody gross?"

"Watch the laungage," Sam chastised his nephew.

Harry sighed, "yes,sir."

"Alright, next is werewolves they do change but not like you see in the movies,they grow claws and teeth, have super heightened senses, super strenth, super speed and only have one thing that can kill them, silver to the heart."

The two younger Winchesters spent another hour speaking about other different monsters until Harry's head felt like it was swiming.

"I didn't realize that there were so many different kinds of things that want to eat me out there," Harry said shaking his head.

"Well, I'm about ready for lunch, how about you?" Sam said closing the books that were set out on the table.

"O.K., give me say, a half an hour, I'm cooking, no arguments," Harry said heading towards the kichen.

After awhile good smells came from kichen, bringing the three older Winchesters sniffing towards the kichen one by one.

"Are you guys ready for lunch?" Harry asked, when his family shrugged and nodded their heads, he served them up. For him and his uncle he made chicken salads and for his father and grandfather a couple of chicken sandwitches with bacon and side of fries, they grinned hearing Harry call them chips.

After the best lunch the older Winchesters have had in along time, John told Dean and Sam they had dish duty, since Harry cooked.

"Ready for the last part of your daily routine," John asked.

"Sure thing, grandpa," Harry said following him out of the room into the library.

"Have a seat," John motioned towards the seat next to himself, Harry did as he was told. His grandfather placed a 9mm handgun in front of him and began teaching him how to break it down. If Harry got stuck at any point, John would patiently explain it to him, allowing his grandson to do it on his own. When Harry had completed breaking it down, John showed him how to clean it properly. After all was said and done, Harry reassembled the 9mm and putting it back on safety, placed it down on the table.

"That wasn't too bad," Harry said, watching his grandfather get up.

"Glad to hear that," John said bringing over a bag of guns and plopping them down on the floor next to Harry. To John's surprise his grandson didn't make any protest he just dug right into his work.

That night Harry had never slept so soundly in his young life.

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After a couple of weeks of training the family of hunters decided to go on another hunt, this time heading towards Michigan's U.P. in search of a wendigo.

"So several campers went missing, remains have been found eaten to the bone, says here that park rangers believe it could just be bears, why do you think it could be a wendigo?" Harry asked sitting in the Impala next to his father reading through a file, like the last hunt they followed his grandfather's truck.

"We don't, not for sure, that's why we're going to check it out."

Harry's phone rang, answering it, he listened for a minute to his uncle, "Umm, here it is Marissa Turken, says that she's institutionalized, umm, Kalamazoo Psychiatric Center, o.k. I'll tell dad."

"So what's going on," Dean asked not used to getting information from Sam third party.

"Uncle Sam and grandpa are heading to talk to a survivor, they said that they'll meet us at the motel."

Harry had texted his uncle the name and address of the motel he and his father were staying at. Laying on one of the beds stairing up at the ceilling he thought about how his life had changed since finding out James was not his real father. Finding out two years ago that he was a wizard was wierd enough, but to find out his real father was a supernatural hunter was crazy.

Dean walked in with a bag of burgers, the smell nauseated him, "got some grub, Harry."

"I'm not hungry right now, dad," he said.

"Yes you are, I got you a salad and fries, umm, chips," Dean said grinning.

Harry laughed, getting up, hearing his father using British terms was the funniest thing that the youngest Winchester had ever heard. After eating Dean taught Harry how to build a mini-flamethrower.

"Lets go over what you know about wendigos," Dean waited.

"Well, their almost perfect hunters, most weapons are useless that's why we're making mini-flamethrowers because they can only be killed by burning them, they can imitate the human voices that they've heard, um, oh, they can be warded off by drawing Anasazi symbols drawn in a circle."

"May make you into a hunter after all," Dean suddenly realized what he had just said and sighed watching his son finishing up the mini-flamethrower. "You know Harry you don't have to become a hunter or even come on these hunts with us, I'll understand if you don't want to."

Harry stopped and looked up at his father, "I like going along, I admit this is only my second hunt but, being with family that's what's important to me."

"That's good, son, family's the most important thing to a Winchester, I just want you to know you don't have to become a hunter, I'll be proud of you no matter what you decide to do with your life, o.k.," Dean replyed.

By early morning John and Sam had arrived with confirmation from the victom, as far as they could tell from her description, well nondescribtion, she said it moved so fast that she never got a look at it, it sounded like a wendigo to them. Allowing his father and brother to get some sleep, he decided to take his son out and show him how to use the mini-flamethrowers. After getting some much needed rest, the four Wnchesters began getting ready for the hike, grabbing their gear.

"Is this first time you been in the woods, Harry?" Sam asked watching his nephew adjusting his backpack.

"No, I've had to serve detention by going into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid to help him hunt down a wounded unicorn," the three older Winchesters stopped dead in there tracks looking down at the youngest.

"Unicorns really exist?" Sam asked.

"I don't know about in the muggle world but in the wizarding world they do."

"Muggle?" Sam questioned.

"Nonmagical people," John explained.

"You know what, I could give a crap about unicorns or muggles, what the hell were you in detention for?" Dean glared down at his son.

"Well, I was out after hours," he said suddenly realizing what he had revealed.

Dean put his face right in his son's, Harry's eyes went wide and round when he met his father's gaze, "do not let me hear about you getting detention again," he drawled out slowly.

"Yes, sir," he gulped.

Dean took Harry around the campsite showing him how to draw Anasazi symbols in the dirt. The three older Winchesters watched that the youngest didn't cross the protective circle as they set up camp for the night. As the sun started to go down the four of them sat down to a dinner consisting of hotdogs and beans both cooked over an open flame.

"Are you sure that the wendio can't cross the circle of symbols?" Harry asked looking around cautiously.

"Don't worry shrimp, we're perfectly safe o.k.," Sam reassured him putting an arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Alright," he said still feeling a pang of fear.

"Help me!" a man 's voice screamed from the dark woods the three older Winchesters looked around at each other grinning, while Harry jumped at the scream.

"Thought it would never find us," John calmly said walking over to the duffle bag that held the mini-flamethrowers, passing each one to the boys.

"Help me!" the scream came again.

Shaking Harry lit his mini-flamethrower with his Zippo, a hand was placed on his shoulder, he jumped as he looked up at his father, "it's o.k., son," Dean squeezed his shoulder.

"Don't fire until you got a clear shot," John instucted, mainly to his grandson.

"I can't see anything," Dean suddenly clamped a hand over his son's mouth taking it off he put a finger to his lips.

Again they heard it, this time from a different direction, to Harry it seemed closer "help me!"

John grinned narrowing his eyes, "come on out you son of a bitch."

Seeing the familiar white owl, Harry closed his eyes concentrating, he began to see the forest outside the circle looking at the camp watching himself and his family standing back to back. Scanning around the camp, in parts that were too dark for any human to see, but were like daylight to an owl's eyes, Harry suddenly saw it, the wendigo, it's twisted form faced the hunters camp.

Harry opened his eyes and raised the flamethrower towards the creature, releasing a gust of flame that engulfed it. Letting out a high pitched scream the wendigo burnt to ash.

John smiled, looking proudly at his grandson, "hell of a hunter," he said clapping Harry on the back.

Both Sam and Dean looked at him with shocked expressions, "not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth but, how did you know where it was?" Dean asked taking Harry's mini-flamethrower from him.

Harry put up his arm as a perch and Hedwig flew down from an overhead tree landing on it.

"Saw it through Hedwig's eyes, dad," he said grinning up at his father.

"You know what, we'll talk about this in the morning," Dean said walking towards his tent.

The next day the foursome walked back out of the forest, Harry told them about how he had discovered his ability with Hedwig.

"It's quite rare, really as far as I know only a hand full of people are able to make that sort of emotional connection with an animal," he said proudly.

"Ever used it to check out the girls locker room?" Dean asked with eyebrows raised.

"No, dad, I'm not a pervert," Harry said exasperated, rolling his eyes.

"I would," Dean mumbled under his breath.

"Stop giving my grandson bad ideas," John chastised.

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"Dad, grab his legs, hold him down, Harry wakeup son, come on son, wake up," Dean pleaded slapping his son lightly on the face.

Harry began opening his eyes slowly, trying to focus on his father's voice, "dad, what happened, where am I."

"Your right here, at home, safe," Dean said running a hand through his son's sweat soaked hair.

"You o.k., Sam?" John looked over at his youngest getting up, holding the back of his head.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, "what happened, Uncle Sam?"

"I tried to hold you down and your magic flung me into the wall," sounding a bit angrier then he really ment to.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," Harry stammered out, Dean gave his younger brother an irritated look.

"You didn't do anything wrong, shrimp, you can't control bad dreams," Sam smiled at his nephew.

Harry put on a weak smile, Dean noticed the tired look in his son's eyes, "ya, you flicked him like a booger," that made Harry truely laugh.

"Come on lets get some ice on that head of yours," John said turning Sam around heading out of the room.

"Lets get you cleaned up and in some new pajamas," Dean said getting up.

After wiping the sweat off of Harry and getting some fresh cloths, Dean stretched out on the edge of Harry's bed.

"You staying, dad?"

"Just til you fall asleep," Dean answered looking over at the nightstand, noticing the picture of his son as a baby being held by his mother and step-dad. Picking up the picture he staired at it for moment raising his eyebrows when he realized that the picture actually moved. Harry saw the look on his father's face and grinned.

"It's a magical photo," Harry explained.

"Ya, so I see," Dean said placing the photo back on the table still stairing at it.

"How did you and mum meet anyway?" Harry questioned his father.

"Well, you know that we met at the roadhouse, I remember seeing this sexy little redhead come walking through the door..."

"Dad, your making me nauseous," Harry said making Dean laugh.

"Hey, you asked."

"That's not what I ment."

"O.K., o.k., lets see what can I tell you that won't make you sick," Dean sighed thinking, "Umm, I remember she said that she was here in the U.S. because it was some sort of holiday and that she wanted to have some fun before she settled down to get married."

"She was on holiday, it means that she was on vacation, how long did you spend together?"

"Two weeks, I was twenty-one at the time, I remember your mom wanting to spend more time with me but, I was young and stupid, more worried about the hunt then anything else," Dean sighed thinking back, "I swear if I would have known..." he said trailing off.

"It's not your fault what happened to me, dad, you shouldn't feel guilty for things that other people do," Harry said comforting his father's guilty conscience.

Dean grinned over at his boy, "get some sleep," he said folding his arms over his chest and getting comfortable.

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A pecking at the outside door of the bunker alerted John and Sam as they went over a possable lead to another hunt. Looking at each other with confussion, Sam got up and headed towards the door, holding his 9mm at the ready. John backed his son up with a .45 revolver. When Sam opened the door a brown owl flew in with a package clutched in it's claws. Dean came into the library just in time to have it buzz by him.

"What the hell is that?" Dean yelled.

"It's an owl," Sam answered coming down the stairs.

"Looks like it's brought something," John said slowly approching the bird and looking at the box it had dropped on the table, "Harry!" John yelled for his grandson.

"What is it grandpa?" Harry said as he came running in the room. Seeing the large bird perched on the back of one chairs, he saw the box it had brought.

"Get away from that, Harry," Dean said grabbing his son by the shoulders pulling him back.

"It's o.k. dad, it's just a delivery owl, looks like it brought me something," Harry went over to the box as his grandfather came in with a bowl of water for the thirsty looking bird.

"Who's it from?" Sam asked stairing intently as his nephew opened the letter that was attached to the box.

"It's from Ron and Hermione, a birthday gift," Harry exclaimed happily.

"Your birthday's not for another couple of days," Dean said watching as Harry opened the box carefully.

"True, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy it now."

"So, what did they send you, hair-ball," John asked sitting down next to his grandson.

"Awesome, Hermione sent me my cloak of invisibility back, I asked her to hang on to it because I was afraid of Uncle Vernon getting a hold of it, knowing him he'd try to burn it or something," Dean narrowed his eyes at the name.

"Cloak of invisibility?" Sam questioned a little sceptical.

"Watch this," Harry said wrapping the cloak around himself with only his head showing making his family's eyebrows raise.

"That could definitely come in handy," John said stairing at his grandson's floating head. John egged him on to see what else was in the box.

"It's a book, how to create magical weapons, has to be from Hermione," Harry said reading the title.

"Let me see that," Sam said reaching for the book.

"Nerd," Dean mumbled, Sam simply ignored him thumbing through the book.

"Some of these actually might be doable."

"Do you think we could create some more weapons like the demon killing knife or maybe even another colt?" John asked looking at his youngest son.

"Maybe not as powerful as the colt but maybe something similar," Sam answered.

"Hell we could create an arsenal with that," Dean said grinning.

When Harry's birthday did arrive the foursome went out to dinner Dean asked him if he wanted to do anyhthing special for his thirteenth.

"Would you let me find the next hunt?" Harry asked looking up at his father.

"Sure, just have Sammy check out your findings and we'll go from there," Dean told him.

Later on the four Winchesters decided to have a cake and presents for the youngest of the group.

"Happy birthday,son," Dean said placing the cake in front of Harry and lighting the candles.

"Shouldn't we sing happy birthday?" Sam asked nobody in particular.

"Dude, can you be more gay," Dean said rolling his eyes towards his brother.

In the end nobody sang happy birthday, which was just fine by Harry, that song just reminded him of the Dursey's. Having to clean up the mess that was left behind after Dudley's birthday parties. After the cake it was time for Winchester style presents.

"Grandpa's rights," John claimed pushing a handgun case towards his grandson.

"Thanks, grandpa," Harry said opening the handgun case. What he pulled out of the case even had his father and uncle saying "wow."

"Damn dad, why didn't you just bye him a bazooka," Dean said stairing at the gun in his son's hand.

Harry held a .357 magnum with a four inch barrel, chrome plated with pearl hand grips, engraved in the grips were his inishles, H.J.W.

"Wow, grandpa, it's beautiful."

"It's not just a thing to admire, Harry, it's a tool, one that can grow with you, right now the .357 rounds are just too powerful for you to handle, so you can load it with the lighter .38 rounds instead," John watched as his grandson turned the gun in his hand noticing the holes bored in the barrel, "those holes are called porting, they're for better accuracy, also you have a rail on top to allow you to put on a scope."

"What are these, grandpa?" he asked picking up a small round object with what looked like screw on the back.

"Those are speed loaders, since your going to be carrying a revolver instead of a semi-auto you'll need to be able to reload faster," John explained. Harry put the gun back in it's case and thanked his grandfather again. "Lets see you top that," John said folding his arms across his chest, grinning at his sons.

"Fine, we get it, you enjoy spoiling your only grandchild," Dean said handing Harry his presents.

Harry opened his first present from his father, it was a silver flask filled with holy water. The second present was a 12 inch bowie knife in a leather sheath, pulling it out of the sheath, Harry noticed the blade had an unusual pattern on it which made the knife look exquisite.

"It's called Damascus steel, beautiful pattern and razor sharp, I'll show you how to keep it that way, the handle is bone, brass and olive wood," Dean told his son smiling.

"Thank you so much, dad, I'll always take care of it," Harry promised putting the knife back in it's sheath.

"I guess I'm next," Sam said putting his presents on the table.

"Your last," Dean teased, Sam just ignored him.

Sam slid over two wrapped presents, unlike his father and grandfather, his uncle took the time to make them look like presents. Harry opened the smaller of the two, and discovered an ipod with earbuds.

"That's for long trips with your dad so you don't have listen to his misic the entire time," Sam said looking over at his older brother with a grin.

"Always trying to influence my son," Dean said shaking his head with mock annoyance.

Harry laughed at the two older Winchesters as he opened his second present from his uncle. Which was to his suprise a laptop computer, Harry was so excited that he wrapped his arms around his uncle thanking him profusely.

"Looks like I won," Sam said looking towards his father and brother smiling widely. Both oloder Winchesters grinned shaking their heads, "I'll teach you how to skype so you can talk to any of your friends that have a laptop and of coarse I'll show you what to look for when finding our next hunt."

The rest of the day Harry learned to use each one of his presents, he quickly realized these were not toys, but tools of a life that he was now being raised into.

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Author's notes: I like to thank everyone for their sopport and for the reviews both good and bad.

Yes, I will be bringing in Adam but since I'm not following the timeline anyway it will be his first meeting his brothers and nephew.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter will update soon.

If anyone would like to suggest anything for future chapters please feel free.

Please be kind with your reviews, it's my first fanfic.