CHAPTER SEVENTY
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: 5
"Welcome home, Love," the man drawled.
She felt Dean stiffen beside her and the arm that had been previously held out in front of her to stop her from moving over to Sam, moved until it curled around her back and latched onto her hip. He pulled her into his side with his eyes narrowed on the figure and his gun gripped tightly in his hand.
Hermione was sure she'd heard that voice before, but she couldn't remember where, and it all became clear when the figure finally stepped into the beam of moonlight, his frame being lit up.
"It's you," Hermione frowned.
"Miss me, Darling?" he smirked.
"Not really," she replied aloofly. "To be honest, I could go the rest of my life without having to look at your ugly mug."
Dean turned his head to look at her, and when catching his eyes, she couldn't tell if he was surprised, proud or worried for her response, it was probably all three.
"What?" she asked innocently, though she kept the man in the corner of her eye.
"That's the King of Hell, Crowley," he muttered lowly, whilst also watching him from the corner of his eye.
"I know," she said lightly.
She turned her attention away from him, making sure she held her wand behind her back and out of sight. Crowley's eyes were darting between her and Dean, watching them carefully, but curiously.
She made a tutting sound. "I do hope that you've learned from your past mistakes and tied our Sammy to a comfortable chair, it wouldn't do well to upset me. My mood right now is not pleasant. I'd rather be home, eating a banoffee muffin whilst tucked up in bed, but instead, I'm here in the basement of a dark, creepy house, watching someone that I care for bleed out, and all over a shirt that I bought him, too. It wasn't cheap you know, and after we've kicked your arse, I'll be expecting you to reimburse the cost of the lovely shirt you've ruined."
Dean's hand tightened around her hip.
"So, you have a decision to make, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way, you untie Sam and get out of my sight and you leave us alone. And the hard way, you untie Sam, I beat you to death with your own limbs and then you leave us alone. I know which I'd prefer."
"My, my, you sure are feisty," he spoke, and much to Hermione's annoyance, he seemed to find her words amusing.
"I'm not a person that should be underestimated, particularly when I'm pissed, which it just so happens I am and it's your fault, meaning I can't be blamed for what happens next."
He smirked at her and clicked his fingers, though it seemed as though nothing had changed given Sam's and Dean's unresponsive behaviour, Hermione knew differently. She could feel it, a change in the atmosphere. She felt as though she was being watched, as though she was the prey and the predator was stalking her, waiting for the time to strike.
Her eyes darted about the room and she heard low growls, until she saw it. A large, black dog sidling up next to Crowley and standing by his side obediently. Hermione barely held in her gasp; it looked remarkably similar to a grimm and she'd only seen one in her life and it hadn't been a pleasant experience, though there were a few differences. Whereas grimms had large, red eyes, this creature seemed to have black, bottomless holes. Where grimms had thick, long fur, this creature had short fur that looked to be made of sharply pointed spikes. Her eyes flickered around the room, seeing that there were five more present, one at the top of the stairs guarding the door, the one beside Crowley and the last four slowly approaching them from different angles.
She was vaguely aware of how Dean was now threatening Crowley, though the King of Hell didn't appear to be paying attention, his eyes were on Hermione, watching how her face paled and her already defensive stance become more so.
"Dean, what are those things?" She asked quietly.
He gave her a sideways glance, looking confused. She pulled away from him and spun, so she had her back to him and she kept watch of the two approaching from the back.
"What things?" He muttered.
"Those bloody things!" She hissed, gesturing around the room. "The things that are about to tear us apart and eat us for bloody supper."
He looked confused, before his eyes moved to Crowley and recognition seemed to dawn on him.
"You can see them?"
She nodded. "You can't?"
"No, only demons and Angels can, which explains why you're able to see them and I'm not. They're hellhounds, Crowley controls them. How many?"
"Six, one on the stairs, one beside Crowley, two approaching from the back and two approaching from the front."
"Fuck! There's no way out of this, he's got us trapped."
They both turned to look at Crowley to see him smirking.
"Can you get us out of this?" He asked, sounding hopeful.
"I'll do my best but I'm not up doing my usual tricks; I'm too drained. I may be able to hold them off long enough for us to get out of here. If you can deal with Crowley and get to Sam, I'll handle these ugly looking things and get us back to the car; I don't think I'll be able to be anymore help."
"That's more than enough," he assured her. "Ready?"
"Ready," she confirmed.
She spun and ran to the staircase, hearing the snarls that ripped from the throats of the hellhounds before they bounded after her. She heard a gunshot, but kept her eyes on the hellhound staring down at her from the top of the stairs, and just as it lunged for her, she turned on her heel and apparated out of the basement.
As soon as she landed on her feet, she took off in a sprint, darting through the rooms of the house. She heard the basement down smash into pieces, before loud snarls and footfalls echoed through the house.
She led the hellhounds out of the house and away from the Impala, not wishing to be anywhere near it considering what she was planning. She couldn't take them on one by one, she was outnumbered. So, she had to deal with all six simultaneously and there was only one form of magic she could think of that would allow her to do that. She only hoped her magical core could take the depletion without it putting her into a coma, because Merlin, she didn't want to have to deal with Dean or Sam afterwards, and the most frightening of the bunch, Bobby. That sent a shiver down her spine.
She looked behind her, shrieking in surprise when one of the hellhounds almost caught her leg in its large mouth; she hadn't thought they were that close to her! She dived off the side and landed on the dusty ground, hearing the hellhound's mouth snapping shut, and it skidded to a stop. Still on the ground she twisted her body and apparated further off into the distance, this time landing in a muddy field. She could already hear the hellhounds approaching, so she pushed herself off the ground and stood tall. She closed her eyes and focused her magic, clearing her mind of all thoughts except for one.
She felt the disruption in the air around her and she slowly opened her eyes, seeing that she was surrounded and they were slowly inching their way towards her. She gripped her wand tightly and took a deep breath, before slowly lifting her wand.
"Fiendfyre," she whispered.
The possessed flames tore from the tip of her wand, the large dragon head in the centre of the flames giving a roaring sound, before sweeping around Hermione in a circular motion, leaving her stood in the centre of a ring of wild flames, hearing the agonized and furious snarls of the hellhounds that the fire was devouring.
She kept her eyes closed, not wishing to witness the possessed flames at work and once the sounds stopped, she focused her magic on extinguishing the flames before they devoured everything in sight.
She gasped loudly and collapsed to the floor, feeling her head go dizzy, feeling her lungs burning with the need for oxygen having not realised that the fire had stolen her breath. She held herself up on her knees with shaking arms and her head was bowed low, not caring that her hair had fallen into the mud and dirt beneath her.
Thanking every deity there was that she hadn't immediately passed out and that her magical core was still functioning, she forced herself to stand up. Not wanting to risk injuring herself or weakening her magic further by using apparition, she stumbled her way back to the house that held her husband, brother-in-law and their captor.
It took her longer than she'd have liked and by the time she'd reached the house, she could feel the aches and pains seeping into her very bones, she could feel her magical core being drained from her magic use, she could feel the need for sleep setting in, but before she could fall unconscious and get the rest she needed, she had to heal Sam and make sure that he and Dean were alright.
She took a minute leaning against the couch in the living room to gather her wits about her; if Crowley was still in play, she couldn't show him weakness. Despite her body's protests, she stood taller and squared her shoulders, and she made her way to the basement. She almost fell down the stairs and that's when two arms reached out to steady her, wrapping around her and lifting her until her feet gently hit the ground.
Her eyes flittered around the room, seeing that Sam was still partially tied to the chair, though he was no longer gagged. Crowley was on the ground with his back slumped against the wall and he appeared to be out for the count. Hermione's body sagged in relief at not having to put on a show.
Dean's hand on her face drew her eyes back to him, he had a worried frown on his face and his eyes searched her form, likely looking for injuries and aside from looking dirty and exhausted, she was fine.
"Hermione?" He questioned softly, seeing that she was all but limp in his arms as she leaned against him and her eyes were drooping.
"I'm fine," she muttered. "I had to perform a bit of magic that's extremely draining and difficult to control; it was the only way to get rid of the hellhounds as a group. I'm lucky it didn't send me into a coma." She forced her eyes open. "Now, let me go, I'm hoping I have enough energy in my core to allow me to heal Sam and get us back to the Impala, before knobhead over there comes to."
His frown deepened. "I don't want you burning yourself out or putting yourself in danger."
"Sam needs me," she replied.
"No, we'll call for Cas, he can heal him."
"You already have, haven't you? He's not coming."
"He hasn't answered, no," he admitted.
"Like I said, Sam needs me. I can pass out after I've healed him. He doesn't have long left."
She made to pull away but before she could, Dean's mouth descended on hers and she blinked in surprise but otherwise responded. When he pulled back, she felt a jolt running though her body and straight to her core, feeding her a little more energy to help her get through with healing Sam. His eyes searched her body and face, seeing that when he stepped back she was able to stand by herself once more.
Hermione nodded before making her way over to Sam. She kneeled on the floor in front of him and with a flick of her wand, the rest of the ropes disappeared and he was able to move, though he looked just as sluggish as she felt, and upon seeing his pale and sweaty complexion, she wasted no time in lifting his shirt, but it was stuck to the wound. She sighed before banishing the shirt altogether, leaving him shirtless and bleeding out.
He watched her with droopy eyes as she siphoned away the blood, seeing that the wound quickly started bleeding once more, though she could see it to be a straight line positioned between his belly button and his waist. She'd seen her fair share of stab wounds to know what one looked like.
She siphoned away the blood once more, before digging into her pocket and pulling out her beaded bag, where she summoned the required healing supplies. She covered the wound in both Dittany and Essence of Murtlap, you weren't suppose to mix the two together due to the reaction of the properties mixing, but she wasn't taking any chances with Sam's life. As long as he survived, he could live with a potential itchy rash. Once she was satisfied the bleeding had stopped and the wound was already beginning to heal, she wrapped gauze and bandages around it, to allow the Dittany time to soak into the skin and re-grow another layer. She summoned a Pain Reliever, a Blood Replenisher and an Invigoration Draught and she handed them off to Dean so he could help feed them to Sam.
Hermione sat back, wiping Sam's blood off her hands and onto her jeans, and they waited for the results to show. Slowly the colour returned to Sam's face and he lifted his head, his gaze locking onto Hermione's instantly.
"You have no fear," he said, and although she was exhausted, it pulled a laugh from her.
"That's my girl, she's a badass," Dean said proudly. "She killed six hellhounds." Sam blinked in surprise. "It turns out, she can see them."
"Yes, thanks to my lovely mother," Hermione replied, stifling a yawn.
"That's going to come in handy," Sam commented, still appearing to be surprised by the news.
"We better get out of here before you pass out, and Crowley wakes up." Dean said, helping Hermione onto her feet, and the energy boost he'd given her through their kiss wore off and she slumped against him.
Dean gave her a worried look, as did Sam, having no idea of what she'd put her magic through just for him. Dean silently asked if Sam was able to stand by himself, and he pushed himself up onto his feet. Sam wobbled but quickly regained his balance, and although he was able to walk, he still held his hand against his side.
They made their way to the stairs and quickly found themselves out of the house. Dean spied the grey smoke that was still lingering off in the distance.
"It was my doing, it's a result from the magics I used," Hermione mumbled.
Dean helped her into the back seat of the Impala and he pulled out the pillow and duvet that she'd stored in a magical box underneath the seats, placing the pillow under her head and covering her with the duvet. She had passed out before he'd finished. He eyed her anxiously before grabbing one of the spare t-shirts they kept in the car and he handed it to Sam, who had a little trouble putting it on. Dean climbed into the driver's side, and Sam sat himself in the passenger's seat as Dean started the ignition and set off on their journey back to the motel.
"What happened to her?" Sam asked, looking tired himself and his head was pressed against the window.
"She tracked you with her magic, she not only used illegal blood magic, but she latched onto her magic which is held in our tattoos. She said that tracking you used more magic than she would ever use in a month. You should've seen her on the drive over here, she could barely keep her eyes open, fuck, she could barely move. She couldn't even stand upright. And on top of the tracking magic, she used a draining form of magic to kill the hellhounds and she healed you. We're lucky she hasn't fallen into a magical coma, they don't wake up from them."
Sam looked horrified. "Why would she do that?"
"She did it for you."
"Why would she risk her health in such a way? It's stupid!"
"She loves you. You're as much her little brother as you are mine."
Sam blinked, surprised by Dean's words, and also feeling touched that Hermione cared for him enough to jeopardise her own health, even if it had been a stupid decision. He knew she cared for him, but he didn't know it was to that extent. He'd just assumed it was more of a friend thing. He thought of her as an older sister, but he had no idea that she thought of him as a brother, too, even if they technically were siblings through marriage. Dean telling him so only increased his respect for Hermione, and he didn't think that was possible.
"Fuck!" Dean cursed, slamming on the brakes and the car skidded to a stop.
He turned to look at Hermione, seeing that she hadn't woken and thankfully she hadn't been injured or jostled about either. He turned back around and gripped the steering wheel tightly in his hands, before ignoring Sam's words of warning and stepping out of the car.
"Nice to see you again, Love."
Dean glared murderously at the smirking man before him. "What do you want, Crowley?"
"What is she?" He asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.
"Off limits!" He growled.
"My, my, you are protective of her. I had though my little birds were over exaggerating, it appears not," he replied, sounding surprised and confused.
"You leave her alone and you leave us alone."
"Can't do that, Sunshine, it's bad for business," he slipped his hands into his pockets.
"I don't give a fuck about your business. You leave her alone, and I'll you let live."
"I'm the King of Hell, I'm already dead." Dean's glare hardened. "Where is the little she-devil?" He asked, his eyes searching for her through the car window, before spotting her asleep on the back seat. "Oh, did I wear her out?" He asked lightly.
Dean gritted his teeth. "You hurt my brother, I'll kill you. You hurt my wife, you're a dead man walking!" Dean warned.
He climbed back into the car and put his foot down on the accelerator, intending to plough straight through Crowley, who moved out of the way. Dean hadn't realised the mistake he'd made regarding his choice of words.
"Interesting, very interesting indeed. What are you, little spitfire?" Crowley muttered with a thoughtful look on his face, watching as the Impala disappeared into the distance.