CHAPTER NINE
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
"Lovely place," Hermione commented wryly, her eyes scanning the seedy-looking bar they'd decided to stop at for a drink and some dinner before heading back to the motel and calling it a night.
They snorted at her before moving over to the bar, quickly ordering a beer each and then finding a booth in the corner of the room. They weren't sat long before someone came over to take their order for food.
"Chicken salad," Sam ordered causing Dean to roll his eyes and Hermione to look at Sam disgusted.
"Double cheeseburger and fries with onion rings on the side, and some pie, whatever you have," Dean ordered without even glancing at the menu on the table. Sam rolled his eyes and Hermione nodded in approval.
The man, who was dressed in a dark t-shirt and jeans with his dark hair falling into his dark eyes, looked to her questioningly. "Salad?" He guessed with a raised eyebrow.
Hermione was immediately offended.
"A salad? Do I look like a bloody rabbit?" She asked incredulously. Sam stared at her in surprise and laughter fell from Dean as he gave her a look of pride. "No, I don't want a damn salad, what I want is a double cheeseburger with a side of bacon, actually, better make it two double cheeseburgers," she amended, "Fries with melted cheese over the top and onion rings, too. If I see one, and I mean, one, lettuce leaf anywhere near my food, you will be wearing it."
The waiter stared in surprise before his cheeks tinted pink and he turned and rushed off to the kitchens.
"You know, I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship," Dean grinned.
"Of course, that's what you bond over, your distinct lack of healthy food. Fine, die of high cholesterol, the both of you, see if I care," Sam sighed, dropping his chin onto his hands as he propped his elbows up on the table.
"Alright," they both shrugged before their eyes cut to each other in surprise. Sam shook his head.
"What have I gotten myself into?" He muttered.
"Funny, I said that every day at school after becoming friends with Harry and Ron," she grinned.
"So, Gryffindor Princess, what is that?" Dean asked, a smirk pulling at his mouth when she sent him an annoyed look.
"It was one of my many known titles given to me by my peers, the media and the public," she sighed. "Harry is The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Boy-Who-Just-Wouldn't-Die, The-Boy-Who-Conquered, The Chosen One and by the Slytherins, he was known as, Potty and Scar-head. At one point in time the bloody school population was filled with idiots and Harry was believed to be the Heir of Slytherin, stupid pricks," she muttered and Dean snorted in amusement.
"And you?" Sam questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"How long do you have?" She replied, sounding annoyed and he snorted. "Where to start?" She said to herself. "Let's see, Gryffindor Princess, Golden Girl, Know-it-All, Bookworm, the third member of the Golden Trio, Mudblood," she spat the word, "Potter's Bitch, Harlot, Scarlett Woman, Heart Breaker of famous wizards, Little Miss Perfect, 'Mione by my friends, Hermy by a giant called Gwarp, and by my ex-boyfriend, Viktor Krum, Herm-own-ninny." Dean burst out laughing. "It's not funny, he was Bulgarian; he couldn't pronounce my name properly," she fumed.
"Was he as good looking as he was eloquent?"
"Whoa!" Sam spoke awed. "My mind is officially blown, Dean used an impressive word and it's more than two syllables," he grinned.
Hermione laughed as Dean leaned over and punched Sam in the arm, but Sam just grinned in response, not being bothered by it.
"I'll have you know that Viktor is very handsome, one of the Wizarding World's best athletes, too."
"You dated a professional athlete?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, he was seventeen and I was fifteen. We met when he came to Hogwarts for the tournament, he was the Bulgarian champion," she shrugged. "He was really sweet, intelligent, too, not to mention he was humble for his status. It was refreshing to meet someone that wasn't bothered with their fame or mine and Harry's. At the age of seventeen, Viktor was considered the world's greatest seeker, and he'd already been playing for the Bulgarian National Team from the age of fourteen."
They blinked in surprise at that until Dean cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Harlot? Scarlet Woman?" He asked confused.
"Basically a whore,"
"Who would call you that?" Sam frowned.
"Rita Skeeter, the bitch hates me, just as well seeing as I hate her. She's in prison now, I had her arrested for repeated violation of the law, including trespassing, slander, questioning underage wizards without an adult present, being an illegal Animagus and sympathising with Voldemort. She's got a lengthy sentence, it didn't help that she had slandered most of those that were on the jury either."
"What did she do for you to hate her so much?"
"The Triwizard Tournament, she was the reporter covering it. I was dating Viktor but she made it seem as though I was in a relationship with Harry and cheating on him with Viktor, she made it as if I were playing them off against each other. I was only fifteen and Harry was fourteen. Thanks to her and her lies I was sent hate mail from Harry's and Viktor's fans, I ended up in the hospital wing a few times as the letters were laced with dangerous substances which could've paralysed me and hurt those around me if I hadn't acted quickly enough and thrown up a shield." They looked horrified, well, Sam did, Dean just looked surprised. "That's why I hate the bitch, well, that and she hurt a good friend of mine, Hagrid. He's half-giant and she outed him to the world, not to mention the articles she wrote in fifth year about Harry and Dumbledore being liars and faking Voldemort's return to increase his fame," she scoffed. "Stupid Twat, that's why I forced her into Animagus form and kept her locked in a glass jar for two months, I put holes in so she could breathe, I even fed her, which is more than she deserved. When I finally let her out I blackmailed her into writing an article about Harry that was positive and threatened her that she was to never write another article about myself or my pseudo-family. She didn't take my warning seriously after the war and so I had her arrested and she got life in Azkaban."
Dean stared in surprise, a look of approval and admiration crossing his face and Sam shot him a knowing look.
"That's terrifying, brilliant, but terrifying," Sam spoke.
"I told you I have a reputation, I'm not a witch to be trifled with. I will show you kindness and compassion, but if you fuck with me, I'll make sure you know that it was the biggest mistake of your life."
"Noted," Dean cleared his throat.
"Ah, fuck!" She cursed.
"What is it?"
"I forgot to order pie, I'll be back," she stood from the booth and made her way to the bar.
"She's growing on you, isn't she?" Sam smirked knowingly.
Dean scowled at him. "Maybe," he begrudgingly admitted.
"I thought so, although, I thought it would've taken you longer to adjust to her, when it comes to the supernatural you're more closed-minded than I am," he shrugged. "I guess all it took was her agreeing with you about salad, eating more food than you, loving pie just as much as you, cursing as much as you do and showing kindness to a mother that lost her son, as well as the little brother."
"She's not like other witches." Dean frowned at the realisation that he meant those words. "She practically promised to beat that kid's future bullies up for him. I've never seen a witch do that before, mainly because they're always trying to kill us."
"I know; can you feel it, the pull towards her?"
"Yeah, I think I can," Dean spoke, though his attention was on said witch as she stood at the bar, laughing at something the bartender said before grabbing what appeared to be two beer bottles and a glass of coke.
She plopped them down on the table and sat down in her seat. "One of you two is the designated driver, fight amongst yourselves," she said, taking a swig from a bottle, leaving only one beer and the glass of coke.
"And why can't you be the designated driver?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Several reasons, first of all, I don't think Patrick Swayze over here would let me drive his Baby," she spoke, making Sam laugh and Dean scowl, but she could see the amusement he poorly hid in his eyes. "Secondly, my license is dodgy since I never actually took my test. Third of all, I don't know the roads. Fourth reason, we drive on the left in England and that just messes with my head, and lastly, I imagine myself to have fairly bad road rage, no one would be safe with me behind a steering wheel."
They looked at her appraisingly and then to each other. "I think it's for the best," Dean nodded.
"We've heard what she can do in anger, better not give her the means to turn someone into roadkill, too," Sam agreed.
She rolled her eyes and then she sat up when she saw their food being brought over to them. It was placed in front of them and the brothers stared at the amount of food on her plate in surprise.
"Where's my pie?"
~000~000~000~
Many beers, several slices of pie and three hours later found Hermione and Dean very drunk and an amused Sam, swigging from his coke.
"You know what," Hermione slurred, "I love you guys, so, so much." Since she was now sat in-between the two brothers having squeezed her way between them, she had her arms slung over their shoulders and she pulled them into her sides, squeezing them as tightly as she could "I mean, you guys are heroes, you save lives every day and my job would be a whole lot harder if it wasn't for you, I really love you guys, My Winchesters," she squeezed them once more.
Sam sniggered and almost spat his coke out.
"I love you, Sammy," Dean said loudly, nodding to himself. "You are the best little brother anyone could ask for, I love you man." Sam couldn't control his laughter even if he tried. "And you, you Little Witch, you're growing on me, I think we're going to BFFEID's!"
Hermione giggled. "What does that mean?"
"Best friends forever even in death," he stated proudly and she giggled louder.
Suddenly the song being played through the speakers changed and it was one Hermione didn't recognise.
"I love this song," she exclaimed loudly.
"Do you even know what it is?" Sam asked amused.
"No, but I love it, let's dance."
Hermione stood and pulled Dean with her, dragging him away from the table. Sam shook his head and decided it was best he get them both home before they embarrassed themselves, so he finished the last of his drink and stood.
"Let's get back to the motel," he said, stopping them on their journey to the dance floor.
"But I want to dance," Hermione pouted.
"Me too, don't be a bore, Sammy," Dean exclaimed.
"Yeah, Sammy, don't be a bore." Hermione crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, going cross-eyed and swaying slightly as if she were about to faint.
"You can dance back in our room," he suggested. They seemed to think it over before nodding enthusiastically.
"Great idea," Hermione exclaimed, reaching up to kiss Sam's cheek before stumbling slightly out of the bar and she was followed by Dean and Sam.
"Keys," Sam held his hand out as they stood by the car.
"But I wanna drive," Dean pouted.
"You're drunk," Hermione giggled.
"I am not!" He said outraged.
"Touch your nose," she challenged.
"I can do that," he scoffed. But he couldn't and he poked himself in the eye, sending Hermione into a fit of giggles.
"See, you're drunk," she said smugly. He scowled at her and she stuck her tongue out at him childishly.
Sam sighed and wrestled the keys from Dean, shoving him into the car and helping Hermione into the back seat before he climbed in the driver's side and drove them back to the motel.
He took the key from Hermione and she and Dean stumbled into the room, laughing for no apparent reason.
"Where's the music? I wanna dance," Dean pouted.
"Bed," Sam ordered, pointing to the bed.
"But you said we could dance," Hermione cried.
"I lied,"
"You're a meanie!" Hermione blew a raspberry, causing both her and Dean to fall into a fit of laughter again.
"Give me strength," Sam muttered, looking up towards the ceiling, but before he could blink, both Hermione and Dean had collapsed on the bed and were out cold.
Sam stared at them for a moment before he gave his head a shake and then he left the room, locking the door behind him and heading to the car. There was no way he was sleeping on the floor, and thanks to Hermione's magic, the back seat would be plenty comfortable for him now.
~000~000~000~
The next morning Sam woke on the back seat of the car and surprisingly, it was very comfortable, of which he had Hermione to thank for. He made his way back to the room and he was amused at what he found. Well, amused and slightly shocked.
It seemed that Hermione hadn't moved during her sleep at all, Dean, on the other hand, had. Hermione was laid on her side facing the bathroom, her hands were tucked under her pillow and her legs were bent and pulled up slightly towards her chest, her breathing was even and deep.
Dean, well that was the comical side; Dean was wrapped around her. The front of his body was pressed up against her back, both of his arms were wrapped around her, clinging to her tightly and he didn't appear to be letting go anytime soon. His head was pressed into the crook of her neck, his breathing disturbing some of her curls that fanned across the pillow.
Sam shook his head and as he walked past them and to the bathroom, a snort leaving him when he saw the ridiculous smile that graced Dean's slumbering face. He quickly pulled out his phone and snapped a picture; it was too good an opportunity to miss and great blackmail material.
When he exited the bathroom, showered and dressed in clean clothing, neither Dean nor Hermione had moved. He chuckled and sat down at the table, switching on his laptop and checking for any reports of more victims to keep him occupied whilst he waited for them to wake up with a monstrous hangover. He got his wish an hour later.
"Ow! What the bloody fuck!" He heard Hermione moan, her hand coming up to press against her forehead as if that would stop the headache.
"I feel like I've gone ten rounds with a pack of werewolves," Dean grumbled.
"Dean?" Hermione mumbled.
"What?" He groaned.
"Get off me," she spoke, but she didn't sound angry that he was practically suffocating her, more like she was preoccupied with trying to contain the nausea that she was undoubtedly feeling.
"No, I'm comfortable," he muttered, his grip on her tightening and he snuggled into her further.
"I'm all for a cuddle, Dean, I'm used to it, to be honest with you, what with overly affectionate Weasleys, but if you don't get off me, I'll throw up on you and then hex you," she growled.
"Don't care, I'm comfortable."
Sam watched the scene amused, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded over his chest, a smirk on his face and his eyebrow cocked at his brother's uncharacteristic behaviour.
"Dean, I'd get off her if I were you," Sam warned.
Dean lifted his head, squinting his eyes against the sunlight that came through the window and he looked at Sam before his head dropped back into place in Hermione's neck.
"Shove off, Sammy," he grouched.
"Is that really any way to talk to the best little brother anyone could ever ask for?" Sam smirked.
"Do you have to talk so loud?" Hermione grumbled, "I feel like I've been hit by the Hogwarts Express."
"The what?"
"Train, transportation for students to get to Hogwarts, takes about seven hours travel time," she mumbled. In her hungover state, she was still a know-it-all, she was just a know-it-all with the temper of an insulted hippogriff. "Dean, this is your last warning, get off me."
He let out a whining noise of protest but he did remove himself from her, groaning when he rolled over onto his back and he got a head rush, making him feel dizzy and nauseous.
"Fuck this," Hermione muttered and she slowly sat up and looked around for her beaded bag, her eyes squinting in the light that was hurting her eyes. Why was it so bloody bright!
"What are you looking for?" Sam asked her.
"My bag,"
"Here, I've got it."
Sam picked up the beaded bag that was on the table beside him and he flung it towards her. Dean groaned when the bag landed on his stomach and they heard things clattering from the inside.
"Thanks," she muttered.
She searched around in her bag before pulling out the vial of blue potion and looking at it lovingly. She downed it in one go and gagged at the taste; it was better to mix it into a drink but she couldn't wait that long, the hangover was killing her.
The effects of the potion were instantaneous, she immediately felt the headache leaving and the fog clearing in her head, and a few minutes later, she stood from the bed with a smile on her face and she stretched her arms above her head until her back made a satisfying cracking sound.
"How are you perfectly fine?" Dean asked, peering at her with one eye open.
"Here," she lobbed a vial at him and instead of catching it, it landed beside him.
"What is it?" He asked, eyeing it wearily.
"Just drink it if you want to feel better, I'm going to shower." She grabbed her bag and headed into the bathroom.
Dean pulled himself up and forced down the nausea before picking up the vial and removing the stopper, downing the blue liquid. He coughed and spluttered. "That's disgusting," he complained and Sam snorted. "I feel better, in fact, I feel fine," he frowned as he stood and stretched his arms out. "What was that?"
"No idea, but don't look a gift horse in the mouth."
"Seriously, I feel fine, as if I hadn't had anything to drink at all."
"Whatever, do you want to talk about why you were keeping the lovely Miss. Granger prisoner?" Sam asked innocently.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dean sniffed.
"Hmm, so you didn't let her go just to annoy her?"
"I was comfortable," he argued.
"I saw that," Sam smirked.
"Shut up,"
"In fact, I've never seen you so affectionate before," he mused.
"Shut it, Sammy!"