CHAPTER EIGHTY-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: 7
One month later...
"Why do you hate me!" Dean muttered.
"I don't hate you, stop being so dramatic," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes and moving to sit on the edge of the bed and tugging at the blanket Dean had pulled over his head.
She had to stop herself from laughing when he lowered the blanket and he glared at her weakly, his skin looking pale and sweat shining on his forehead.
"Then why did you wake me up?" He grouched.
"To see if you wanted some soup bringing back. Don't look at me like that, it's not my fault you're sick. I told you not to eat that burrito, it smelled funny and the colour was off."
"It tasted fine," he argued.
"If it was fine you wouldn't be spewing your guts up, now would you? Next time maybe you'll listen to me, after experiencing food poisoning I'm staying well away from all seafood. Now, do you want some soup bringing back or not?"
He scowled admitting defeat and shook his head. "No, I don't think I'll be able to keep it down, there's no point."
"Alright, make sure you keep yourself hydrated."
"I'll just throw it back up," he replied.
"Dip your finger into some water and rub it into your gums, it'll keep you hydrated without actually having to drink water. We've had to do it for the kids several times when they've had the flu and it works well. Sam and I shouldn't be gone too long, so I'll see you when I get back. Get some rest."
"I feel like shit."
"I know," she said.
"It wasn't this painful for you."
"If you say so," she said, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice and failing.
"It wasn't; you didn't have stomach cramps," he protested.
"Yes I did, though I didn't see any point in complaining about them, particularly since I also had period cramps to go along with the rest of my symptoms of vomiting, headaches, dizziness, sweating and aching muscles and joints, and don't you remember having to carry me out of the shower, helping me to dress and then putting me to bed? Get some rest and you'll feel better."
"I'm dying!"
"Well, can you make sure you do it quietly, we can't have you disrupting the neighbours?"
Before Dean could reply, she leaned over and kissed his forehead and then stood and left their motel room, heading straight to the Impala where Sam was waiting for her.
"Still complaining?" He asked as she climbed into the passenger's side and she shut the door behind her.
"Yes, he's adamant he's dying." Sam snorted. "For someone that's been stabbed, shot and dragged down to hell, he sure complains a lot when he has a mild case of food poisoning."
"You should see him when he's got a cold."
"I can't wait," she said sarcastically.
He chuckled at her. "So, back to business. Bodies then relatives or relatives then bodies?"
"Let's get the bodies out of the way, it's my least favourite part of the job."
"Morgue it is," he nodded, switching on the ignition.
"Want to make it interesting?" She asked.
"How so?" He replied curiously and turning in his seat to face her.
"If you can get into the morgue before me, I'll give you one hundred and fifty dollars, but if I beat you, you have to look after Dean."
He scowled. "You'll use magic."
"I won't, I swear, I'll even give you my wand when we get there."
Sam's scowl didn't disappear. "But he's your husband."
"And he's your brother," she shrugged.
"But he's a nightmare when he's sick. I've dealt with him all my life; it's your turn now."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine, if I beat you, you have to babysit the kids by yourself for an hour."
He narrowed his eyes slightly, deciding whether or not it was better for him to deal with Dean or three children under the age of seven. The answer was obvious.
"Agreed."
~000~000~000~
Sam waltzed into the morgue with his hands in his pockets and he looked about the room, seeing it empty a smug smile appeared on his face.
"What took you so long?"
Sam jumped and turned around, seeing Hermione step out from behind the door he'd just opened.
"But...How did you...I don't understand."
She smirked at him. "Stick with me Sammy and you'll learn a few things."
~000~000~000~
"I hope there's only one," Hermione sighed. "I can't be bothered having to fight off more than one vampire, especially in this heat."
She opened her motel room and Sam followed in after her, the sound of Dean throwing up in the bathroom meeting their ears.
They looked to each other.
"He's not pregnant, I swear, he took a test," Hermione said.
Sam snorted at her, before taking his lunch over to the table and sitting down, not in the slightest bit put off by his brother currently throwing up his guts in the bathroom.
Hermione removed her jacket and hung it on the chair before moving into the bathroom, seeing that Dean had apparently finished throwing up and he was now brushing his teeth. He was dressed in a different shirt and boxers and his hair was damp, which meant he'd either taken a shower since she'd been gone or he'd sweated through his clothing and had to change, though she suspected the former was more likely.
"Feeling any better?" She asked. He glared at her in the mirror. "That's a no then." She moved over to him and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, feeling that he had a temperature.
"Come on, let's get you back to bed," she said, allowing him to finish brushing his teeth before dragging him out of the bathroom and over to their bed.
She climbed on beside him and sat with her back pressed to the headboard. Dean turned on his side to face her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face against her stomach. Hermione chuckled as she brought her hand up and ran it through his hair, hearing him sigh when she scratched lightly at his scalp.
"Feeling shit?" Sam asked from across the room.
"Yeah, and I have a headache so stop shouting," Dean muttered in response, nudging Hermione's shirt up with his nose until it pressed against the bare skin of her stomach and she giggled when it tickled.
"Well if you're going to be sick, do it in the bathroom, I'm eating over here."
"Shove off," he mumbled, lifting his head to glare at him weakly, before burying it back against Hermione's stomach. "I'm sick."
"In the head, yes, I know."
Hermione snorted but decided to defuse the situation before Dean lost his temper and shot his brother.
"Sam, leave your brother alone, he's clearly dying and would like to do so in peace."
"Thanks," Dean said, not fully having registered Hermione's words and Sam smirked at her whilst she winked in response.
"Get some sleep, Patrick," she said, tapping her wand against Dean's forehead and casting a Cooling Charm to help bring his temperature down.
"Why didn't you do that when you were sick?" He asked tiredly.
"I was too weak to cast any magic, so I suffered as a muggle would, luckily for you, you no longer have to. Now, stop talking and sleep, allow your body to fight off the virus and you should be fine in a couple of days."
~000~000~000~
"Glinda! Glinda!"
Hermione sighed, before spitting out the remainder of the toothpaste from her mouth and washing her toothbrush beneath the running water.
"What?" She called.
"I have a headache."
"So do I," she muttered to herself, before exiting the bathroom and seeing Dean looking sorry for himself and cocooned in the blanket.
"Take some aspirin."
"I used the last of it last night."
"Then I'll get you some more before I come back."
"But I have a headache now," he whined.
"Then stop talking."
He scowled. "I thought you witches had an instant pain reliever."
"We do, but it's in liquid form and you're still unable to keep anything down. It would be a waste of time, the effects would wear off the moment you bring it back up."
"But my head hurts."
"Mine too," she mumbled.
A glare appeared on her face when she spied Sam sat at the table in her room with his laptop and barely containing his laughter at her annoyance. He smirked at her glare. She narrowed her eyes on him in warning before walking over to her beaded bag and fishing out Mina, her teddy bear.
Dean eyed it strangely as she held it out to him. "Why are you trying to give me your bear?"
"It's not just any bear," she told him. "Despite it being muggle made, it's been around magic since I was born, and I brought it into the Wizarding World with me. When I was old enough to begin properly experimenting with magic, I cast spells on my bear in hopes that it would absorb the effects of the magic. This was back when I began to have an interest in spell creation. My bear is no longer a normal bear. There's a reason I asked you to get him for me when I was ill. There's a spell on it that helps to ease the aches and pains in the body, such as headaches and migraines, and the effects are similar to a Pain Potion. My bear also helps you to sleep by calming your brain waves and clearing your mind, similar to a Dreamless Sleep Potion. All you have to do is hold it against you and you'll be asleep within minutes, and I promise you'll feel better later on."
He narrowed his eyes on her before begrudgingly taking the bear from her and holding it in his hand.
"I said hold it against you," she said.
He glared before snuggling down into bed and holding the bear against his chest with his arms wrapped around it, similar to how a small child would. She had to stop herself from laughing at him, though Sam didn't bother trying to hide his amusement.
"You'll feel a lot better when you wake, now, we better go, I'll see you later." She leaned over and kissed his cheek before quickly leaving the room with Sam behind her.
"Was what you told him true?" He asked curiously.
She snorted. "No, I lied."
"Why would you do that?"
"Do you know what a placebo is?"
Sam blinked. "Yes, but that's usually with candy."
"Well he was getting on my nerves; I thought I may as well get some enjoyment out of it."
He laughed at her. "And if I get sick?"
"I'll do what I can for you, but if you're anything like Dean, I'll hex you until you don't even remember your own name."
"Noted."
~000~000~000~
"My head hurts, you said the bear would make it better."
"No, I said it would help to ease the pain. You just need some more rest, and you haven't thrown up since last night, I'll make you some toast and you should drink some water. Sam thinks he's got a possible location on the vampire, hopefully there's only one. We're leaving soon."
"Be careful, I don't think our marriage would survive you being a vampire."
She snorted. "I don't suppose it would, you'd want to kill me every five minutes, but I suppose that's how our relationship started and look where we are now."
"I'm in bed dying."
"You're not dying," she rolled her eyes. "I suspect you'll be fine by tomorrow night. Stop being so dramatic."
"I'm not being dramatic," he argued and he sat up in bed, holding her bear to his chest tightly as he scowled at her.
She smothered her laugh at the sight he made. "You are, you've been stabbed and shot and you didn't complain as much as this. I'll nip out and get some bread and I'll make you some toast, I'll be back soon."
~000~000~000~
"Hermione!"
"I'm okay," she groaned, pushing off pieces of an old bookcase off herself, since it had been knocked over and it landed on her. "But when I get my hands on the arsehole that pushed a bookcase on to me he's going to lose more than his bloody head!"
She heard Sam snort from the other side of the room.
"As funny as that would be, I could use your help over here!"
Hermione pushed the last piece of wood off herself and stood up, brushing herself down and huffing. She held her wand in her hand tightly and stormed over to the other side of the room, seeing Sam struggling against the abnormally large vampire. Before the vampire could turn his attention to her, she lobbed a Severing Charm at it, his head being taken clean off.
"It's not fair, it's so much easier for you," Sam all but whined.
She rolled her eyes. "It's not my fault I was born a witch, and if you want to get technical, you're a lot stronger than me, it's much easier for you to slice off a head with a machete than it is for me. Besides, I'd rather not get too close to a vampire, Dean would kill me if he ended up being married to a vampire. Now, where's the other arsehole that took a swipe at me?" Sam snorted. "He can't have gone far; I warded the building to prevent vampires from escaping. Let's go hunting."
~000~000~000~
"Hey, how you feeling?" Hermione asked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed beside her half asleep husband.
Dean shielded his eyes from the morning sun shining through the gap in the curtains.
"Better," he admitted. "How'd the hunt go, I didn't hear you come in last night?"
"That would be because you were dead to the world, your snores all but made the room shake."
"I don't snore."
"You did last night; I had to put a Silencing Charm up to stop the neighbours from complaining." He scowled at her. "And everything went fine, even though one of the bastards knocked a bookcase onto me, he learned his mistake afterwards."
"Are you hurt?" He frowned, sitting up and his eyes scanning her for any injuries.
She shook her head. "No, I had a few bruises forming last night but I put some Bruise Removal Paste on and they're all gone now, they weren't that bad. Sam had a few cuts and scrapes but I healed them for him, too. We're all done with the case. Now, do you want some toast?"
"No," he shook his head. "I want the greasiest, fattiest, most disgusting thing we can find."
"Welcome back to sanity," she said amused, laughing when he tackled her onto the bed and caging her beneath him. "You really are better."
He grinned down at her, his head lowering with the intent to kiss her, only there was a knock at the door and Sam waltzed in.
"I see you're feeling better," Sam commented when he saw the position the two of them were in.
"As always, you have really bad timing."
Sam shrugged. "We've got a case."
"I hate you," he muttered, dropping his head into Hermione's neck.