CHAPTER NINETEEN
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: 7
"Dean, I'm going for dinner, what do you want?" Sam asked, slipping on his jacket and finding the car keys.
"Not hungry," Dean muttered, his eyes focused on Hermione.
Sam had long since begun to worry about his older brother. It had been three days since the battle at the warehouse and Hermione had yet to wake. Dean had barely left her bedside, only using the bathroom when he absolutely had to. He hadn't eaten since that day, he hadn't changed his clothes since that day, he hadn't washed since that day, he hadn't slept since that day and he'd barely spoken since that day.
Sam was at a loss, he didn't know what to do. Sam brought Dean the fattiest, most disgusting food he could purchase and Dean had barely looked at it. To make matters worse, Dean had simply looked at the pie he'd bought him before turning his attention back to Hermione. He'd turned down pie! Twice!
He 'd shared his concerns with Bobby and he often tried to engage Dean in conversation or encourage him to eat, but it was all for nothing as all he did was sit in the chair beside Hermione, staring at her.
Dean still wore the bloody, torn clothing from the day of the battle; he still had dried blood smudged on his face and body, his hair stood up at odd angles and was mattered from him constantly running his hands through it. His eyes were bloodshot and had dark purple bruises surrounding them; he sat slumped in the chair as if he'd given up on everything in life.
Sam didn't know what to do; he just hoped that whatever it was between Hermione and Dean wouldn't cost him his brother's health. He prayed that Hermione would wake and set Dean straight.
"You haven't eaten in three days, you need to eat."
"Not hungry,"
"Dean..." Sam sighed.
"I said I'm not hungry," he snapped. His eyes cut from Hermione to Sam, glaring at him furiously and Sam decided to let it go, seeing as that was the most emotion he had seen from Dean in days, not to mention the longest interaction he'd had with him, too.
"Fine, I'll bring you something back anyway, you might change your mind later."
Sam left without a reply from Dean, but he didn't expect one.
It was fifteen minutes later when Hermione's hands gripped at the blankets, her breathing sped up and her eyes moved rapidly below her eyelids. Dean watched as it happened, he'd gotten used to it after three days of it occurring every fifteen minutes, but this time something was different.
He straightened in his chair and leaned forward, he could hear murmuring coming from Hermione but he couldn't decipher what she was saying. Her breathing turned into gasps as if she was struggling to breathe and her knuckles turned white from the tight grip she had on the blankets, her body shook and her head thrashed from side to side rapidly.
"Hermione," Dean said quietly, reaching his hand out to touch her shoulder.
"DEAN!" Hermione screeched.
She bolted upright, her chest rising and falling erratically and her eyes darting around wildly, searching her surroundings.
"Hey," Dean muttered softly. Her head spun to him and the fear in her eyes dissipated, replaced by relief. "You're safe here," he promised, giving her a tired smile and she frowned at him.
"You look like crap," she spoke, her voice hoarse from a lack of use. He stared at her before chuckling and it quickly turned into a laugh.
"Of all the things to say, that's what comes out of your mouth?" He shook his head and reached for the bottle of water on the bedside table that Sam had placed there for him and he handed it to her, watching as she took it from him and drank from it greedily.
"What happened?" She asked, handing him back the half-empty bottle.
"You wouldn't wake and we called for Cas, he came and healed you but you fell into a coma, he said your magic needed to right itself."
She nodded slowly. "When a witch or wizard is injured, their magic goes into overdrive trying to heal the injury itself and without the aid of spells or potions, or at least it tries to keep you alive until you can be helped. It's the reason I didn't die immediately when you shot me, especially when you hit my internal organs, I should've died within minutes but my magic kept me alive. How long have I been out?"
"Three days," he answered. She didn't look surprised, she merely nodded.
"My injuries can't have been that bad then; it once took me three weeks to come around after falling into a coma."
"Can't have been that bad? Can't have been that fucking bad! Cas almost lost you!" Dean exploded in rage and she startled in surprise. "Whatever those fuckers did to you, it attacked your magic, your cells, your internal organs were shutting down; it took far longer than it should've for him to heal you and that was because you were practically dead, he only just managed to pull you back to the land of the living!"
"Great," she muttered, "Another reason for Death to hate me," she sighed.
"How the fuck can you be so calm about this?" Dean demanded.
"This has happened to me more times than I care to admit, St. Mungo's is on the verge of creating a private ward specifically for me, and St. Helga's not far behind them. It's not the first time I've been close to death, nor would it have been the first time that I'd died. I've legally died four times, my near-death experiences are into double digits," she told him, her eyes looking tired and he stared at her, not sure how to respond to that information.
"Cas said if you're ever tortured through magical means again it'll kill you instantly, you won't survive."
"Well, I'm done with Death Eaters, any that are left will be captured or give up, which just leaves me with magical creature cases, the chance of torture is almost zero."
"Almost?"
She nodded. "Some vampires still possess their ability to practice magic, though it's a rare occurrence, I would say one in a thousand. And werewolves that are wizards or witches still have their ability to practice magic every day but the night of the full moon, for obvious reasons, therefore they can cast an Unforgivable."
They fell into silence, Hermione looking down at her hands and Dean watching her.
"Why do you look like shit?" She asked.
He snorted, not sure if he should be offended or not by her observation. "We were watching over you, taking it in shifts, I had the last shift so I haven't slept in a while," he lied, but she didn't need to know that. "Sammy's out getting food."
She eyed him dubiously. "You're lying, you're still wearing the same clothes as the day of the battle, and you still have dirt and blood on you which means you haven't changed your clothing, nor have you washed. Your eyes are bloodshot and you have bags under your eyes, which means you haven't slept either. You better have been eating!" She glared at him.
"I've been eating," he nodded, but his stomach took the opportunity to give a sudden growl of protest and her glare darkened.
"You have five minutes to get your arse into that bathroom and clean yourself up, otherwise I'll hex your arse to England and back," she threatened.
"Your wand is out of reach," he pointed out.
"There is such a thing as wandless and non-verbal magic," she reminded him.
He eyed her, deciding whether or not he should risk it, and deciding that he definitely didn't want to get hexed by the powerful and recently comatosed witch, he stood from his chair, grabbed his duffle bag and he disappeared into the bathroom.
He returned from the bathroom twenty minutes later, freshly showered and wearing clean clothing, he no longer looked filthy but he did look exhausted. Hermione had moved so that she was lying down on her side and he noticed she'd had changed clothing as she was now sporting an old faded t-shirt with a logo he'd never seen before and a pair of leggings.
He retook his seat by the bed and she lifted her eyes to look at him and their gazes locked before she looked away shyly.
"You should eat," she said to him.
"When Sammy gets back with food I will."
"I've seen the way he drives," she snorted, "A snail's faster than him, you'll be waiting a while," she replied and Dean's lip twitched in amusement.
Hermione yawned loudly and her body sagged into the mattress as she snuggled into the blanket. She took one look at Dean and his clearly exhausted and sleep-deprived state before she shifted over in the bed to make more room and she lifted the blanket, patting the mattress in invitation.
Dean eyed her curiously before he stood from the chair and slipped into bed beside her, within minutes they were both asleep and it seemed that even in their sleep they were drawn to each other as they were wrapped around one another in no time at all.
Neither of them had noticed Castiel stood in the corner of the room, watching them with a curious frown and his head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.
~000~000~000~
Sam entered the motel room with a bag of food in one hand and a crate of beer in the other; he shut the door behind him and then stopped in his movement of crossing over to the table when he saw both Hermione and Dean snuggled together and sleeping peacefully. He blinked slowly, just to make sure that his eyes weren't deceiving him and that he was seeing what he was actually seeing, but the scene didn't change.
He sighed in relief and thanked every God there was, for to him it was obvious to what had happened during the time he'd been gone. Hermione had woken, she'd forced Dean to clean himself up as he now wore clean clothing and was free of dirt and blood, and then they'd both fallen asleep.
He wasn't sure whether to wake them or not seeing as they would both need food but they also needed sleep, especially Dean and Sam didn't know how he'd lasted so long. With his mind made up, he sat at the table, proceeding to eat his food quietly and he continued to research any strange deaths or occurrences nearby just to keep himself busy.
After three hours, Sam felt exhaustion beginning to creep in, so he made his way to the bathroom and readied for bed before falling asleep.
~000~000~000~
Dean woke to the morning light streaming through a gap in the curtains. He gave a sleepy grumble as he slowly peeled opened his eyes, Hermione's face coming into his view.
He watched as her breathing was even and deep, her long lashes resting against her high cheekbones, her lips slightly parted and there was a slight crease in her forehead, making him wonder what it was she was dreaming about that her frowning so.
"I see you're finally awake."
Dean turned his head to glance over his shoulder, seeing Sam sat at the table and glued to his laptop.
"What time is it?" Dean asked through a yawn.
Sam shrugged his shoulders. "A little after nine, I haven't been up long myself."
Dean gave a sleepy grumble and turned back to Hermione. He sighed, before slowly removing his arms from around her and carefully removing her hands from gripping at his t-shirt but he stilled when she gave a grumble in her sleep. When she reamed still and sleeping, he carefully climbed out of bed, watching as Hermione moved closer to the pillow he'd been using.
He turned from the bed, picked up the chair and made his way over to the table, sitting down opposite his brother, running his hand through his hair and rubbing his hand over his face, once more giving a tired yawn.
"I take it she woke up?"
Dean nodded, resting his elbows on the table and putting his head in his hands. "She woke not long after you left, after an argument about her health, she made me shower and when I came out of the bathroom, she'd changed her clothing and barely ten minutes later, I fell asleep."
"Why'd you argue about her health?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"She said her injuries weren't that bad as she once took three weeks to wake from a coma, apparently, three days is nothing to her," he spoke irritated and Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't believe I slept so long," he muttered.
"Well, you did, and you obviously needed it, you didn't even flinch when I got back, even when I dropped a beer bottle and smashed it. I've never seen you that way before, Dean."
Dean removed his head from his hands and saw the slight frown on his brother's face. He leaned back into his chair and folded his arms across his chest.
"What do you want me to say?"
"Why were you that way? I don't understand it, I've never seen you that way before, not even with me. I was worried for her, of course I was, and despite how long we've known her, I like her, I trust her. She's my friend and I can feel a pull towards her for reasons that I can't explain, but I knew she would wake up."
He sighed and frowned, turning his head to look at Hermione, who was now snuggling into his pillow.
"What's going on with you?"
He turned back to Sam. "I don't know; I feel..." His frown deepened. "I feel strange. When I'm around her I feel different. She annoys me, she makes me laugh, she outwits me, she teases me. She makes me anxious; she makes me feel inferior to her but also as her equal, sometimes even her protector. I feel tired, yet alive. I feel a pull towards her, but I think it's different for me than it is for you."
Sam was all but staring with his mouth wide open; Dean was opening up, he was sharing his thoughts and feelings, something Dean refused to do with anyone, especially him, but Sam was bearing witness to it right now. His eyes flickered over to Hermione; she'd changed his brother in such little time that it was unbelievable.
"You see her as a friend, a familial match?" Dean spoke and Sam nodded. "I don't, I'm not quite sure what it is but the thought of her getting hurt scares me, more than I thought possible. I worry for her, just as I worry for you," he admitted, his eyes downcast and focused on the table. "I know I should hate her, that I should be disgusted by her, by what she is and what she's capable of. But I just can't hate her. She's too..." He paused, searching for the right word. "She's too good, her magic, I can feel it when she's using it and it doesn't feel dark or evil. It feels light, warm, protective. She reminds me of you; her dorkish love for books and knowledge, her understanding, her friendliness."
"True, but she's more like you than she is me," Sam said, Dean looked up at him questioningly. "What? She is; she's practically the female version of you. I've never seen someone with an unnatural love for pie like you before, that's where Hermione comes in, she all but eats the same as you, actually, she eats more. I can't speak for her beliefs on the supernatural as I'm unaware of them, but I can see similarities in you that astound me, and quite frankly, it's weird," he pulled a face and Dean snorted at him.
"There's no point in denying it. There's something between the two of you and you need to figure out what you're going to do, and you need to do it quickly." Dean's face must've shown confusion as Sam explained further. "The case is over now; the Death Eaters she's been chasing for a better part of a decade have all been captured or killed. There's no reason for her to stay in the States anymore and she can go back to England. Even if she didn't, she'll probably have her own cases which'll take her in the opposite direction to us, we may never see her again. So you need to decide whether you want to pursue anything with her or if you want to call it quits before anything can happen between you."
Dean frowned. "I...I like her, I trust her," he admitted, surprising Sam. The only people Dean trusted were himself, Bobby and Cas; he could still be a little unsure of Ellen and Jo. "I still had nightmares but they weren't as vivid, they were bearable and I slept through the night. I don't know if it was because I was exhausted after not sleeping for the last few days, or if it was because of her. I don't know if she feels the same about me, I don't know if we can have anything other than a one night stand, I don't know if we'll see her again after we go our separate ways."
Dean's stomach gave a sudden grumble, making them both startle in surprise.
"Well, I'm glad that's over. No more chick flick moments, I'm starving, I'll go and get breakfast." Dean made to leave but Sam stopped him.
"No, I'll go, you stay with Hermione, you should probably tell Bobby that she's awake."
Dean watched Sam leave, he locked the door behind him and Dean turned to Hermione. Seeing that she was still asleep, he found his phone and called Bobby, he answered on the second ring, his gruff voice coming through the speaker.
"Any news?"
"She woke last night, she was barely awake for half an hour before she fell back to sleep, but as far as I can tell, she's fine," he replied, his eyes focused on her sleeping form.
"I need to speak to her."
"She's still asleep and I don't want to wake her."
Bobby grumbled beneath his breath. "Fine, but you get her to call me when she wakes."
"Will do, Bobby, no doubt we'll see you soon."
"I've got a couple of cases for you," he confirmed before the line went dead.
Dean put his phone down on the table and with one last look at Hermione, he stood from the table and made his way to the bathroom.