CHAPTER FIVE

Summary: Nine years after the war, Hermione's the Head of the Auror Department that specialises in dealing with Magical Creatures and fugitive Death Eaters that are loose in the Muggle World. With the fugitive Death Eaters no longer hiding in Britain, she's tracking rogue Death Eaters in the United States, which leads her to The Winchester brothers. The Witch and The Hunters are a dynamic trio that no creature, being or beast wishes to mess with, Magical or Supernatural. Hermione/Dean pairing. Rated M for a reason.

Disclaimer: I don't own original canon characters or events, just those that I create myself. Everything belongs to J.K Rowling and the creators of Supernatural. I am not making a profit posting this fanfic.

Page count: 8

"Giant Squid? Seriously?"

Hermione looked up from her book and towards the voice. It was Sam and he was leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and an amused smile pulling at his mouth.

"Yes, the Giant Squid and he's a sweetheart." He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Honestly, he is, he likes to have his tentacles tickled, he loves to play fetch and his favourite food is toast, plus, if someone falls in the Black Lake, he rescues them and takes them back to land. Most students are afraid of him but I've passed on my knowledge to my nieces and nephews and when they start Hogwarts, the Giant Squid will have someone to keep him company."

"Ghosts? You actually allow ghosts to occupy a place where children live?"

"They're not vengeful spirits, they're not the type of ghosts you deal with. They don't harm anyone, well except Peeves, but he's a poltergeist that loves to play pranks on the students and professors, particularly the caretaker, Filch, but he's a horrible man so it's understandable." He snorted at her. "Besides, the ghosts are kind of like our mascots, Slytherin has the Bloody Baron, a foul-tempered old bastard and he's the only thing that can control Peeves. Ravenclaw has the Grey Lady, also known as Helena Ravenclaw, the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff has the Fat Friar and Gryffindor has Nearly Headless Nick. Of course, they all died on castle grounds and decided to stay. There are other ghosts but none worth mentioning, well, there's Professor Binns, Professor of History of Magic. Word on the corridors is that he died in his sleep and his ghost turned up to his class the next day, we don't even think he knows he's dead," she shrugged.

He blinked at that, apparently finding it hard to digest that a ghost actually taught children at Hogwarts. "Alright, moving staircases?"

"Yes, and they're a right pain in the arse, especially when you're running late for class. They derail you and you have to wait twenty minutes for the stairs to return you to the correct floor of the castle."

"And talking portraits?"

"Yes, some aren't too bad, others are a nightmare, like Walburga Black, horrid woman she is, well, was. Her portrait was in Grimmauld, Headquarters to The Order of the Phoenix. Whenever she was woken she would scream and spout off blood supremacy bollocks about how we were unworthy to be in her presence and we were befouling the home of her ancestors," she rolled her eyes causing him to chuckle. "You should've been there the day Sirius told her that he wanked off in her bedroom."

He spluttered and she heard a sudden laugh, she turned her head to see Dean walking into the room, looking calmer than he had earlier and laughing joyously.

"Well done, Witch, it's not often I see the Sasquatch speechless."

She took the compliment, even if it was slightly insulting, but it was progress. "If I didn't know she was already dead and buried, I would've thought she'd die in disgust," she smirked in amusement.

"What's a house-elf?" Sam asked, bringing her attention back to him and she noticed the blush covering his cheeks, she decided to leave off on the teasing, getting the feeling his brother would do it more than enough for the both of them. "They're mentioned in the book you gave me."

"House-elves are essentially magical creatures that live to serve wizards and witches, basically they are slaves. Years ago I didn't understand the bond that a house-elf shares with their master and I started this crusade to free all house-elves from slavery. But what I didn't understand at the time was that house-elves love to serve, it's what they live for. Without having a master or family to serve, they have no purpose and if they have no purpose, they die. House-elves can live for centuries and most stay with the family they are first bound to until their death. Even though I understood their need to serve, I wasn't happy with the treatment they received. Abuse, starvation, self-harm, torture. I couldn't stand by and watch these creatures suffer, and so, over the years I worked in conjunction with the Regulations and Control of Magical Creatures Department and together we instilled laws that forbid house-elves from being abused and punished, they are to receive a fair wage and are entitled to holidays, I believe that everyone should have equal rights, no matter their species or background." She said passionately and she forced down the blush when she realised that she had gone off on a rant, and the now three Hunters that stood by the doorway, were staring at her with different levels of surprise and admiration. She cleared her throat. "Any more questions?"

Bobby broke the silence. "In the book, it mentioned a war during the forties, a wizard..."

"Gellert Grindelwald," she supplied.

"That's the guy. There was a symbol."

She frowned thoughtfully before it hit her. "A triangle with a circle in the centre and a line through it?" He nodded. "That's the omen of the Deathly Hallows."

"The what now?" Sam asked, his head cocked to the side and intrigue shining in his eyes.

"The Deathly Hallows, it's a wizarding legend, though it isn't spoken of much anymore, I hadn't heard of it and it was a clue to the mission I was on to destroy parts of Voldemort's soul. I was tasked with translating the Ancient Runes into English, took me bloody ages, and even then I still struggled to find a reference to it of any kind. In the end, it was Harry that had the solution, he knew someone that may have known of the tale, Luna Lovegood's father. During our time on the run we visited him," she explained.

"So what is it? If it was a clue as you say it was, it must've been important," Sam spoke.

He moved over to the couch opposite her, followed by Bobby and Dean plopped himself down on the armchair, looking the perfect picture of calm, though she could see the wariness in his eyes.

"It was; if it wasn't for the Deathly Hallows we wouldn't have won the war."

"How so?"

"The legend is something along the lines of there being three brothers. These three brothers come across a river, a river that had taken many lives for if the three brothers attempted to cross it, they would surely drown. The three brothers thought of a cunning plan in which they created a bridge using magic, a bridge that allowed them to cross the river unharmed. Once they were on the other side, Death appeared and he praised them on their ability to trick him. As a reward Death gave the three brothers a wish each." Sam and Bobby both sat forward, Dean raised an eyebrow at her. "The first brother, the eldest, wished to have a wand more powerful than anything on earth and Death granted him that wish. He formed a wand from a nearby elder tree, creating the Elder Wand, which he gifted to the brother. The second brother asked for something to recall loved ones from the grave, Death was furious but created the Resurrection Stone from a stone from the river and gifted it to the brother. The third brother, the youngest, he was humble and asked for something that would allow him to hide from his enemies. Death tore a piece of fabric off from his own cloak and he created an Invisibility Cloak, which he gifted to the brother and they all left, going their separate ways. But Death always claims his victims."

"What happened to them?" Sam asked excitedly and causing her to chuckle at him whilst Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, but he, too, listened attentively.

"The first brother competed in duels and he boasted to everyone that he had the most powerful wand in the world, that with it he would never be beaten in battle. But during the night when the first brother was sleeping, someone broke into his room and slit his throat, they stole the Elder Wand. Death claimed the first brother that night." She paused to let it sink in. "The second brother resurrected his love, the woman he was set to marry before she died. He was delighted to have her back, but it wasn't right. The woman, she may have been in the mortal world, but she didn't belong there. She was sad and cold, she was lifeless, without a soul and she suffered. Unable to take the pain she killed herself, in the grief of losing his love once again, the second brother took his life, hence Death took his next victim." She paused once more. "The third and final brother was a wise and humble man and when he parted ways with his brothers, he lived his life. Death searched for the youngest brother and years passed before he finally found him. The third brother had lived a long life and he had a family, it wasn't until he removed the Invisibility Cloak and gifted it to his son, that Death found him and the third brother greeted Death as an old friend and willingly went with him."

The room was silent.

"A lovely tale, very entertaining," Dean drawled, "But I still don't understand what this has to do with you destroying parts of a psychopath's soul."

"The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak, together they make the Deathly Hallows; if a person possesses all three, they are the Master of Death. They are said to be able to control Death itself and to communicate with him. It's believed that the Peverell brothers are the three brothers from the tale. Harry was gifted the Invisibility Cloak for Christmas his first year, it was a family heirloom; this means that Harry originates from the Peverells bloodline, more precisely the third brother. The Gaunts, Voldemort's wizarding ancestors, were direct descendants from Salazar Slytherin himself. He was in possession of the Gaunt family ring, it was one of the objects and Dumbledore destroyed it. We later discovered that the ring contained the Resurrection Stone, which Dumbledore later hid in an object that he left to Harry in his will. The Elder Wand was in the possession of Dumbledore after winning its allegiance in a duel. If you disarm the Master of the Elder Wand, you become the new master. Dumbledore was disarmed before his death by Draco. During our time in capture, before we escaped Harry disarmed Draco. Harry is the Master of the Elder Wand."

"He has all three?" Bobby frowned.

"Not anymore," she lied, but they didn't need to know that. "But he once did. Harry uses his Invisibility Cloak for work and the Elder Wand he uses every day, he's still getting used to the power it holds, magnifying all of his spell work by tenfold. If he hadn't destroyed the Resurrection Stone he would've been the Master of Death, but I know Harry better than I know myself; he doesn't wish for fame or power, he just wants to have a normal life with his family, keeping them safe by capturing dark magic practitioners and then going home to tuck his three children into bed, then dying in peace after watching his grandchildren, great-grandchildren, even great-great-great-grandchildren, grow up."

"That's impossible," Dean snorted.

"It's not," she promised, "Witches and wizards have a longer life span than muggles; we can live up to the age of two hundred, some even longer. It depends on the strength of your magical core; after all, that is what keeps us alive. You also have to take into account illness, being affected by dark magic, injury, accidental death and of course, the big kicker, murder. If you are healthy and magically powerful, there's no reason why you can't live longer than the average of two hundred."

"That's strange," he scrunched up his face.

"Not really, it's the way things have always been," she shrugged. "Any more questions?" They looked at her thoughtfully. "Well if you think of anything you would like to know, just ask and I'll do my best to answer, but I better get back to researching now," she said, looking back down at her book.

"What are you doing?" It was Bobby that asked her.

"Researching some dark curses," she shrugged, not taking her eyes off the words in front of her.

"Why? You said you don't practice dark magic," Dean bit out, his eyes narrowed on her and his hands gripping the armrests of the armchair.

"I don't," she said lightly. "Why do you research demons, magical creatures, witchcraft and wiccan?" She asked.

"So we know what we're up against, so we know how to stop them," Sam answered. He then chuckled, "I see your point."

She nodded, but still, her attention was on the book. "I research dark magic so that I know how to recognise it. I have to be able to know the difference between an Incarcerous and a Crucio."

"What?"

"One's a Body-bind in which ropes tie you up and the other is the Torture Curse, an Unforgivable, and is identified by a neon yellow beam of light. There is such a thing as non-verbal magic, being able to cast spells without speaking. If your opponent is able to cast non-verbal magic, then you can't hear the incantation, therefore you have to be able to recognise it by the colour of light or the wand movements. It's the line between life and death for me. Also, if I understand how a curse affects a person, how it injures, then maybe I can reverse the effects, maybe I can find a potion or healing spell to counter the damage done and relieve any pain, maybe I can stop someone from dying. A lot of the time I find myself in hostage situations, I need to be prepared for anything. I've been researching dark magic and their curses since I was seventeen and even now, nine years later, I'm still learning and memorising everything I read. I would never dream of casting the curses I have learned from my research but it's vital to my survival, as well as the survival of others, that I know everything I can about my enemy and the way their twisted minds think." Suddenly she stood, snapping her book shut. "I'm hungry, I want some cake, do you have cake? I'll have a look," she left the room.

Sam started laughing. "She's worse than you," he said through his laughter and Bobby smirked at the annoyed look on Dean's face.

~000~000~000~

The next morning found the three Hunters entering the living room to find Hermione sat in the same position they had left her in the night before. She was sat on the armchair, her legs dangling over the side of the armrest, a book resting on her lap as she read from it, her eyes scanning the page and taking in the information rapidly. If she didn't have a different book from the one they saw her with last, they would've thought that she hadn't moved since before they headed to bed.

"Hermione, did you sleep at all last night?" Sam asked with a frown. She ignored him, being too engrossed in her book. "Hermione?" Still, she remained unknowing of their presence.

"Witch!" Dean spoke loudly and her eyes snapped up to them.

"Sorry?" She said, her eyes looking tired.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" Sam repeated.

"Of course, I did," she smiled as stood from the armchair, snapping her book shut and then she flicked her wand, sending the books that covered the coffee table back into her beaded bag. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to shower, when I'm done I'll make breakfast for everyone, I think I saw some flour in the cupboard, pancakes?" She didn't give them the chance to answer as she left the room, heading to the stairs and up to the bathroom.

After showering, she dried off and dressed in black skinny jeans, black knee-high boots and a white long-sleeved blouse. She carried a light white jacket over her arm and her beaded bag was shrunken down and stowed away in her boot.

The three Hunters were sat around the kitchen table, books and newspaper articles covered the surface, Bobby seemed to be flicking through several books at once, Dean was flicking through the newspapers with a bored look on his face and Sam was on a laptop, his attention focused on the screen in front of him. Deciding to not disturb them since they were obviously busy, she set about making pancakes and she grimaced as she made some coffee; she wished she could have tea, but Bobby didn't have any and she had run out, she would have to restock on a few things in her beaded bag when she next got the chance.

Hermione placed the plate stacked high with pancakes in the centre of the table, along with four cups of coffee and she placed some milk and sugar along with them since she didn't know how they took their coffee. After placing the plates and cutlery on the table she sat down in her chair, pulling some pancakes onto her plate and she began eating. The three Hunters served themselves their food, absentmindedly eating whilst they continued with their tasks. It was ten minutes later when Hermione's curiosity got the better of her.

"What are you doing?"

"Research for a case," Sam replied, his eyes still focused on the laptop screen. "We caught wind of it a while back but there was no concrete evidence of something strange with the deaths, but the body count became too high to ignore."

She frowned. "How did the victims die? Is there anything in common with them?"

"As far as we can tell they have no similarities," he responded. "Different occupations, ages, genders, races, dry cleaners, nothing ties the victims together."

"Cause of death?"

"Unknown, every autopsy report we managed to get our hands on states the same thing; every victim was completely healthy with no underlying issues and no traces of poison in their systems; they just died, for no reason. Their hearts just stopped, cause of death was ruled natural causes."

"But you don't believe that," she stated, her mind beginning to put together the pieces of information that she had learned so far in an attempt to help them find their culprit.

"No, the death count's too high, we think there may be witchcraft involved, that or some demon getting his jollies murdering the innocent," Dean piped up, picking up a more recent newspaper. "There've been another three deaths in a town about five hours from here."

"May I?" She gestured to the newspaper; he raised an eyebrow at her. "What? If you think it's witchcraft maybe I can spot something that you missed. I might be able to shed some light on the situation, who knows magic better than me?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly but realised that she had a point and he pushed the newspaper over to her, her eyes scanning the article quickly as she picked it up.

Three deaths. One female, 37, English teacher in a high school. One male, 24, Mechanic. And another male, 54, car salesman.

Hermione stood from her seat and paced back and forth, they all stopped what they were doing in favour of watching her trying to solve the puzzle they'd presented her

"I see your point, there's nothing obvious that they have in common, they're different heights, ages, genders, weights, they don't even have the same eye or hair colour," she thought aloud. "That's definitely a little odd. What else did the coroner's report say?"

"There was nothing useful in there, well, except for that weird drawing, it almost looked like a tattoo of some kind," Sam spoke.

"Drawing?" She frowned.

"Yeah, each victim had a drawing somewhere on their body, it looked to have been done with some kind of invisible ink, it could only be seen under ultra-violet lighting."

"What was this drawing of?"

"A strange-looking snake and skull," he shrugged his shoulders.

Hermione's pacing halted to a sudden stop and she stood rooted to the ground. Her face lost colour and she felt a wave of nausea hit her as she gripped the newspaper in her hands tightly, the article crunching in her grasp.

"Fuck!"