CHAPTER NINETY-SIX
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: 18
Hermione sighed, before tipping her head slightly in greeting, and then turning her eyes back to the couch.
"It's been a while," she said. "I would say it's nice to see you but we both know I would be lying."
His mouth pulled into a smirk and he stepped closer to her, his chest almost touching her back.
"I have missed that smart mouth."
"I doubt any of your employees would ever dare to speak to you the way I do," she replied.
He chuckled at her. "No, they most certainly would not."
She nodded slightly, before tipping her head, gesturing to the couch on display questioningly. "What do you think?"
He titled his head, examining it carefully. "It doesn't suit you."
"I suppose you're right," she sighed.
Her eyes then turned to the table and chairs which she could see further back in the shop, and without a word, she slipped away from the King of Hell and into the small furniture shop, making her way straight over to the table. She knew he followed behind her, despite him not making a single sound in his movements. She ran her fingers along the table, and sized it up, deciding whether or not it would suitable for one of the libraries.
"Solid oak, nice choice," Crowley complimented, before pulling out one of the chairs and sitting himself down, apparently not caring if one of the shop attendants were to come along and ask him to move.
She nodded. "I'm still not sure," she replied.
"And what is to be its purpose?" He asked conversationally.
Hermione looked up at him, her body turned away from him in such a way that he had yet to notice her large stomach that could only be associated with pregnancy.
"If I were to purchase this, I would place it one of the libraries." He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "And whilst I am grateful for your opinion, I am sure you did not come all this way to help me furnish my house. To what, do I owe the pleasure, of a visit from you?"
His mouth twitched. "Well, kidnapping certainly hasn't worked in the past," he replied.
"No, it hasn't," she agreed. "I believe on both occasions you were bested, injured, left alone and frustrated," she said with a smile pulling at her mouth.
"Hence a new approach," he tipped his head. "You might be more willing to answer my questions if I were to show you some respect."
Her eyebrow raised and she snorted. "Respect?" She questioned, walking away from him and a little further forward so she could better see the selection of lamps that were for sale.
"Respect," he confirmed.
"You do not respect me."
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't," he shrugged. "But I can respect that you have the intelligence to have not only bested me once, but twice. I can respect that you have The Winchester brothers wrapped so tightly around your finger, that they are willing to die for you, to protect you at all costs. And I can respect you enough, that you were able to get, Dean Winchester, a notorious man-whore, to put a ring on your pretty little finger and give up his bad habits."
Hermione turned her head to look over her shoulder. "How do you know that we are married?" She questioned, but she didn't sound surprised that he knew.
"Your husband let slip at our last meeting. After that I took it upon myself to go digging further, imagine my surprise when I found a marriage certificate, naming you husband and wife, not even weeks after I knew you had met each other. That certainly was fast," he commented.
She shrugged. "The line of work we are in is dangerous. Our futures are uncertain and we saw no point in wasting our time dilly-dallying around each other. Our relationship before our marriage was, intense, and we both knew that there would never be another that we loved and cared for more. We wed as soon as we could."
"And here we are, two years later. You are a difficult woman to follow."
She wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not, but the way his mouth twitched led her to believe it was.
"Well, Dean and Sam are excellent with their wardings," she shrugged, before moving to the left, her eyes looking over the selection of cushions and throw blankets, her hands reaching out to gauge the softness of the materials used.
"You and I both know that I am not referring to their wardings. I was able to have them followed long before you came into the picture, and now it is more difficult, and I know you have something to do with it. I know that you are not what you appear to be."
"That is true," she admitted with a nod.
"You admit that I am right about you?" He asked curiously.
"I see no point in lying anymore, we have been doing this for the better part of two years now; I'm getting tired of your attempts to weasel your way into our lives. I know that since our last meeting, you have attempted to capture either myself, my husband, or my brother-in-law several times." She looked over her shoulder, amusement bubbling within her at his surprised expression. "So, yes, Crowley, I am different, but the question is, how?"
"What are you?"
"It must be killing you inside, to know that you have been right about me all this time, to know that despite you having my family followed, you have learned nothing about me except for what my dear husband accidentally divulged."
His eye twitched and his hands clenched into fists.
"You do not know my maiden name, you do not know my age, you do not know who I am, or why and how I met The Winchesters. You may know that I am originally from Britain due to my accent, but you don't know where I lived, or why I am now here, in America. You know nothing of my private life, except that I am tied to Dean and Sam. You know that I am different, but you do not know why or how."
"It is maddening," he admitted.
"I can imagine, I hate not having answers to questions that have been bothering me for some time," she said sympathetically. "Dean says that I'm a bigger bookworm than Sam, and I love a good research project."
She looked around, wondering why no one had thought to approach them, wondering why she couldn't even see another person in sight, but she assumed it had something to do what the man sat at the table.
Hermione moved to the other side of the room, sitting herself down on a black leather couch and leaning back into the cushions, sighing at the comfort it offered her. Maybe she should purchase it; it came with two matching arm chairs after all.
She turned to look behind her over the back rest, seeing Crowley's eyes glued to her.
"You want answers?"
"Obviously," he rolled his eyes.
"Then I would be glad to give them to you."
"You would?" He asked in clear surprise.
"Yes, I am tired of this game of cat and mouse. I don't need the added stress of you following me around, planning to subject me to whatever forms of torture you could think of, so that you may extract the answers you wish to hear from me. My life is stressful enough and I need to be careful."
His eyes swept over her face, down her neck and to her shoulders, the rest of her was hidden by the couch she was perched on, meaning he still hadn't seen her stomach.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione held a finger up which caused him to pause. She dug into her beaded bag and pulled out the ringing phone, before answering the call.
"Yes, Patrick?" She answered.
"Glinda, you alright?" He sounded worried and she rolled her eyes at his over protectiveness. As far as he was aware, she'd only gone for a walk around the town.
"I'm perfectly fine," she replied. "I could no longer take the heat or the boredom of being stuck in that stuffy room by myself and I wished to explore a little more of the town. I've had a lovely time, and I've even made a few purchases that you're going to love. I even found a new pair of boots for Sammy."
Dean snorted on the other end of the phone. "Well, we've finished with the interviews, Sammy wants pizza for dinner."
"With lots of..."
"Meat, I know," he chuckled fondly. "Do you want us to pick you up; we'll be there soon anyway?"
Her eyes moved over to Crowley, seeing him watching her carefully. "Of course, I'll be in the cafe, I'll see you soon," she replied, before hanging up. "Dean's coming to pick me up," she explained, seeing the way he frowned deeply. "But I did say that I would give you the answers you were looking for. So, in two hour's time, I will be expecting you at my place of staying."
"And what makes you think I know where that is?"
"I'm not stupid," she said. "You and I both know where I am staying and which room I'm staying in, too. The only reason you have been unable to get close to me is due to the wardings."
"And whatever you have done to the rooms," he added. "The Wonder Brothers may have demon proofed the rooms, but I am the King of Hell, in time I would've found a solution around the wardings, but I cannot even get close, and I know that is your doing."
She smiled at him innocently. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." He narrowed his eyes at her. "And I am positive that you will be able to get to my rooms."
~000~000~000~
"What are you hiding?" Sam asked her.
They had just finished eating dinner, and through it Sam noticed that Hermione had been unusually quiet, meaning that she was up to something. And his suspicions were cemented when she bit her lip and a nervous smile pulled at her mouth.
"Glinda?" Dean questioned with a narrowed gaze, sitting up from his reclining position on Sam's bed.
"Don't freak out," she replied.
"Why?" They both questioned and she laughed nervously.
"You both know I wouldn't do something unless I had thought it through and if I thought it was stupid and unsafe."
"What did you do?" They both asked.
She sighed before fiddling with her fingers, her eyes darting between them. "Crowley found me."
"WHAT!"
She winced at their shouts, and they both stood up immediately.
"Are you hurt? Did he hurt you? I'll kill him!" Dean growled, spinning on his heel and making his way to the door. Hermione threw a Locking Charm at it so he couldn't open it.
"Calm down, I'm supposed to be the hormonal one," she said. Dean glared and Sam couldn't help the snort that left him. "I am perfectly fine and he did not hurt me, he just wanted to talk."
"To talk?" Sam questioned confused.
"Yes," she nodded, before pointing her wand at Dean, and then to the bed. It was a gesture of warning, one that if he didn't sit down and listen, love of her life and father of their baby or not, she'd hex him until he couldn't walk.
He clearly wasn't happy, but he was wise enough to follow her unspoken instructions, sitting down on the bed and his closed fists resting on his lap, whilst Sam took his seat at the table and Hermione stood in the centre of the room between them.
"He had questions, the same questions as before. He wishes to know who I am, and I've decided to tell him."
"WHAT!"
She winced again, but continued as if she hadn't been interrupted.
"I have come to the conclusion that it is best for all of us if I were to tell him, not everything of course, only of my being a true born witch."
"Why?" Sam asked with a frown and eyeing his brother carefully.
"He's never going to leave us alone. I haven't told you because I didn't want you to worry, but he's been having us followed for almost two years now, especially since your kidnapping, Sam." She explained. "I know he's tried to capture at least of us several times and he hasn't been able to because I've been using my magic to prevent it. I've been able to tell when he's close by which is how I've kept him from getting to close to us. I admit, him finding me today was a bit of a surprise; I've been too distracted by the baby and the house to keep a feel out for him."
"What's to stop him from killing you? Hurting you? Taking you away from us so he can use you?" Sam asked worriedly.
She smiled at him, and it wasn't just a smile, this was a 'she has a devious plan' sort of smile, and he felt his eyebrow rise questioningly.
"It is my understanding that he loves to make deals."
"Over my dead body," Dean growled.
She rolled her eyes. "Relax, Dean, this is going to be a deal that I'm in charge of. He won't even realise what he's agreed to until it's too late."
"Meaning?" Sam asked.
He was curious when she walked over to her beaded bag and stuffed her hand inside, digging around its contents before pulling out a stack of papers, a fairly large stack of papers, he realised.
"I've had a feeling that it was going to come to this at some point in the future, so I've prepared myself." They both blinked at her. "For the last year and a half, I've been carefully crafting a contract between us and Crowley. A contract that is so well crafted, there isn't a single loop hole that can be exploited, and believe me, I've had several of the best lawyers and barristers look over this for me. Not even the King of Hell himself can find his way out of this deal once he's signed on the dotted line, and it's also a magical contract, giving us extra security."
"What are the terms?"
"To simplify it, the terms are: that for the answers he wishes to receive from me, he is bound by his word and the contract, to never harm a member of The Winchester bloodline, distant relatives or not, in the past, present and future, until the end of time itself, and I have included Bobby and Castiel, too." They blinked at her. "He is bound by this contract, to not allow a single demon under his command to hurt anyone that has Winchester blood, past, present or future. If a demon goes rogue, and intends to harm us, then he must deal with the situation and if unable, he must give us plenty of warning so that we may be ready to defend ourselves. He's not to break the terms of the contract and he's not to have someone else break the terms of the contract for him."
They both blinked at her. "I have ensured that the future of The Winchester bloodline is protected from Crowley and his demons. We will no longer have to worry about them personally targeting us. Of course, we will still investigate and deal with these demons, as it is our job, but they cannot come after us."
"That's brilliant," Sam praised and she smiled at him. He shouldn't have expected anything but to be honest. "But what assurances do we have that Crowley will even sign the contract? As we all know, he makes the deals and selects the terms of the contracts."
"Well, aside from the fact he will finally get the answers he's been wishing for, or at least partial answers, I have also included a small section that states, if Crowley should ever require my help and magic and I am able to do so, then I will help him. He's the King of Hell and is bound to have enemies, if he were to sign this contract we would be allies of sorts."
"And the best option for him, I would hate to be your enemy," Sam nodded.
Hermione turned her eyes to Dean, seeing him glaring at the ground and with his hands still clenched into fists. Feeling her eyes on him, he lifted his gaze to lock with hers and he sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I don't like it," he said.
"I know," she nodded, walking over to him and stopping in front of him.
He automatically wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer; he pressed his forehead against her stomach and sighed when she moved her hands into his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp with her nails.
"He's never going to leave us alone, Dean. This is the best option we have available, and in getting him to sign the contract, not only will he not be able to harm us and our family, but future generations, too. I'm aware that there's the possibility he may find a way to travel back in time, which is why I've included past relations, too, and that the contract forbids the breaking of its terms. I have also included the protection of any future, present or past spouses and their families. This contract benefits us more than it does him. He will never be able to harms us again. We're protected from him."
"You've thought of everything," he mumbled.
"It's my job to," she shrugged, a smile pulling at her mouth when he placed a kiss to her clothed stomach. "He doesn't know about the baby. By positioning myself strategically, I was able to hide that from him."
"Where did he find you?" He asked her.
"A furniture shop. He followed me inside and chatted with me whilst I looked around. I think I've found the perfect couch for the Hunter's library, and a table, too. I'll have to go back and see if it's still available before we leave. With a bit of magic, I can have it put into storage with the rest of the furnishings for the house. And I bought the cutest sleep suit today," she said, before pulling back from him and summoning the bags containing her purchases.
She pulled out the little sleep suit, showing it to be white in colour with a smattering of little grey and silver stars and with the matching hat and mittens.
"Isn't it adorable?"
He peeked inside the bag, seeing other items of white, yellow and pale green.
"Why are these unisex colours?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.
"You know why," she huffed.
"I'm telling you now, Sweetheart, we're having a boy."
"It could be a girl," she grumbled.
He gave her that stupid, lop-sided smile that always made her squirm. "It's a boy."
"You don't know that."
"I do, it's definitely a boy."
"What makes you so sure?" She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at him since he was still sat on the bed.
Neither of them had forgotten that Sam was sat at the table and watching them amused, whilst he also flicked through a magazine that had been left behind by the last occupant of the room.
"I just know," he shrugged.
She narrowed her eyes. "Have you been secretly communicating with Castiel?" It made sense to her that if he knew she was pregnant long before they did, he would probably know the gender, too.
"No, I haven't," he shook his head.
They'd only seen Castiel a couple of times since discovering Hermione's pregnancy, and whilst Castiel had told Dean he knew the gender, Dean didn't need clarification and he didn't ask for it either, he knew that without a doubt they were having a boy, and he'd been tossing around names for months, but hadn't yet told Hermione.
"Then how?" She questioned.
"I just do, Sweetheart," he said, softening his voice as he could see she was beginning to get agitated.
He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her closer to him, lifting his hands to rest against her stomach. Hermione placed the sleep suit on the bed and rested her hands over the top of his.
"I can't explain it, it's just a feeling, a knowing that we're having a boy. I told you that I had a feeling that we would have a baby soon, and a few hours later we discovered you were pregnant. But what I didn't tell you was that I'd been having dreams of you being pregnant, I didn't want you to worry or think that I was crazy."
Her eyes had widened slightly and she stared at him. "Have you dreamt about the baby?" She said quietly.
"Yes, and that's why I'm positive we're having a boy."
"You've been spending too much time around Luna," she commented, and Sam snorted from the other side of the room.
"You think she may be a Seer," Dean shrugged. "Maybe her talent's rubbed off on me. I told you I was psychic," he grinned.
She rolled her eyes before slapping him upside the head, he scowled and Sam laughed. "If you were psychic, you would've known I was going to do that."
"Whatever, we're still having a boy, I'm sure of it."
She sighed. "Fine, I'll start purchasing more boys' clothing, but if you're wrong and we're having a girl..."
"You'll hex me until I can't move, I know," he said with a grin. "But I'm not wrong, we're having a boy."
Hermione was confused when he gently pushed her away from him, before he disappeared out of the room, returning minutes later with a duffle bag in his hand. He placed it on the bed before opening it up and beginning to remove the contents and laying them out for her to see. She knew it was one of the duffle bags she'd placed an Extension Charm on, since there were more items than could've possibly fitted in the bag.
Her eyes widened and she felt tears welling up. She stared at more items of clothing than she'd bought altogether, all of them in blues and greens, there were a few items of white, black and grey, and some in red, too. She looked at the sleep suits, t-shirts, vests, jeans, and a few little shirts that were absolutely adorable.
She moved closer to get a better look, and she noticed a stack of receipts still inside the bag. She pulled them out and looked at the dates, the very first receipt showing that Dean had started purchasing baby clothes from not even a week after discovering she was pregnant.
She tore her eyes away from the papers in her hands and up to Dean, seeing him staring at her.
"I..." She whispered, at a complete loss of words. Her eyes watered and her chest ached with the love she felt for her husband.
"I knew you'd be a stubborn witch, so I thought ahead," he said with a smile.
"I can't imagine you shopping for baby clothes," she finally got out.
His smile widened. "Neither could I at first, but once I started, I couldn't stop. I almost felt sorry for the women that were working on the check out."
She closed her eyes and her tears fell. She felt Dean's hands on her face, wiping them away from her cheeks.
"What's wrong?" He frowned, looking at her worriedly.
"Sam?" She called. He hummed in response, pulling his eyes away from his magazine. "I would suggest you take your reading elsewhere."
"Why?" He frowned, his eyes darting between her and Dean.
She turned her head slightly, and something must have shown on her face because he grimaced and made a noise of disgust and annoyance.
"Fine, I'm going for a walk," he muttered, grabbing his coat and quickly leaving the room.
Hermione turned her eyes back to Dean, seeing him watching her carefully.
"I didn't think it was possible to love you anymore than I already do, and then you go and surprise me with something such as this," she whispered.
He blinked as she pulled away from him, and with her wand she had all of the baby clothes back into the duffle bag and she had locked the door and silenced the room.
She shrugged off her cover up and dropped it onto the bed, before grabbing him by his t-shirt and tugging him with her as she walked towards the other bed in the room. Dean seemed to have caught on to her intentions and his hands had slipped to her hips.
"Crowley is due to be here in less than an hour," she informed him.
Dean felt a smirk pull at his mouth. That was plenty enough time to get Hermione purring beneath him and for her to add a few new marks to his permanently scarred back.
She had always been responsive to his touch, but due to her pregnancy, everything seemed to be magnified, over sensitive. He barely had to touch her for her to orgasm, and even those seemed more intense, especially when he was inside of her when it happened.
It felt as though all of his energy, his life force, his very soul was being dragged out of him and into her. He would be exhausted and hardly able to move afterwards, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love what her hormones did to her. Her increased sex drive ensured that he needed sleep and rest to be able to keep up with her, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
She climbed onto the bed and he followed after her, listening to her breathy giggles and whimpers when he attacked her neck with kisses.
~000~000~000~
The knock on the door alerted Hermione to Crowley having arrived, and before she could attempt to open it, Sam beat her to it. Dean held her tightly against him with a gun held in his other hand and she would've rolled her eyes, but not only was she used to his over protectiveness by now, she had honestly been expecting it.
"Ah, Samuel, how's that knife wound?"
"I may have invited you here, but I can kick you out on your arse just as easily," Hermione said.
"Calm down, Love, I was just making pleasantries," Crowley said amused as he stepped into the room.
"We don't care for your pleasantries," Dean replied through a growl.
Crowley smirked when Hermione soothed him by running her fingers up his arm and whispering something into his ear. Crowley raised an eyebrow when Dean's breath seemed to hitch, his eyes darkened and he looked down at Hermione intensely, before he took a deep breath.
"As you can imagine, we want to get this over with, so, take a seat and we'll get started," Hermione said, gesturing to the table.
Thankfully he didn't protest and sat himself in the seat closest to the window, leaning back in the chair and stretching his legs out.
"So, Spitfire, what do you wish to tell me?"
She rolled her eyes, before standing up and that's when he noticed it. Her large stomach. After she and Dean had finished with their activities, they'd both showered. Whilst Dean had dressed in his jeans, boots and a t-shirt, Hermione had done the opposite. She knew that they had no plans of leaving the motel room that night, and so she dressed for bed. With it being so warm, she wore a pair of sleep shorts along with a spaghetti strap top that stretched over her stomach. But over her clothing, she wore one of Dean's shirts left open and unbuttoned, wearing it more like a cover up.
Crowley's eyes darted between Sam, Hermione, Dean and Hermione's stomach.
"Surprised?" She asked amused.
He nodded, speechless.
"Never thought I'd see the day you had nothing to say," Sam muttered from his place leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
Whilst he looked the perfect picture of ease, Hermione knew that he had a pocket knife hidden in his hand, as well as two guns being hidden by his clothing, should he need them. He was just as protective as Dean when it came to her safety, but he knew when to stop his actions. He was just the right amount of protective; Dean didn't care, as long as she was safe, that was all that mattered to him; even if he was protecting her from ridiculous things and it angered her.
"Yes, well, I'm six months pregnant, now, let's get on with this. The baby's doing a number on me lately."
She stood up and walked over to the table pushing the pile of papers that sat on the surface closer to him. He cleared his throat, shook his head and looked at her curiously.
"It is my understanding that you like to make deals," she explained. His eyes positively lit up. "So I am going to make a deal with you, one that I will and have set the terms of." He raised an eyebrow. "Nothing is up for negotiation, you either sign it or you leave and you don't get the answers you are looking for. I suggest you read it so you are fully aware of our terms. And there is no point in looking for loop holes, I assure you, there are none."
She turned and made her way back over to Dean, sitting down beside him with his arm automatically shifting around her waist and resting against her stomach, his gun still held in his hand and his eyes glued to Crowley.
~000~000~000~
It was half an hour later when Crowley pushed the papers away from him and sat back in his chair, apparently finished reading through it.
"I have to admit, that is one thorough contract," he spoke, his eyes moving between her stomach and her face.
"I've been working on the contract for over a year and a half," she replied.
"I can see that," he mused. "I have a few questions."
"I thought you might."
"Firstly, I understand your inclusion of spouses and their relations, as well as future generations," he said, his eyes lingering on her stomach in a way that made her shift uncomfortably. "But what of the past relations?"
"I'm not stupid, Crowley, I know there are forms of time travel, I can't and won't risk you or someone else that is under your command going back in time to either harm someone or prevent this contract from ever being made, which is why I also included the terms of you not being able to break the contract."
"You truly are clever," he muttered.
"The Brightest," Sam corrected. Hermione scowled at him, knowing he was referring to one of her many titles.
"You have made mention of your help being available when needed," Crowley drew her attention.
"Yes, and I'm sure you're just dying to know how I could be of help to you. But I assure, Crowley, you would rather me an ally than your enemy."
"She's right, I've never met someone so frightening," Sam shivered.
"Mimsy," Dean piped up, his eyes still glued to Crowley and his hand still resting on Hermione's stomach, but his mouth twitched.
"I stand corrected, there is only one person more terrifying," he spoke, his face going pale at the thought of the terrifying house-elf.
"I'll tell her you said that," Hermione said.
"Then I'll tell her about that shepherd's pie you made without her knowledge," Dean replied and Hermione scowled.
"You fight dirty."
"Winchester trait," he shrugged.
"I know, I am one too, you know."
Dean tore his eyes away from Crowley to look down at her, his face softening in such a way and him looking at Hermione so lovingly, that it made Crowley feel nauseous.
"I'm aware," Dean muttered softly, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and turning back to Crowley with dislike shining in his eyes. "You sign it and get your answers, or you get out and leave us alone."
Crowley made a show of skimming through the contract once more, double checking for anything he could use to his advantage, but there was nothing. He loathed admitting that she'd done a good job.
Seeing no other option but to sign, and realistically, her terms were understandable and acceptable, he removed his favourite pen from his pocket and signed on the dotted line. Much to his surprise, the contract glowed a shimmering gold and then it disappeared from the table. One moment it was there, and the next it was gone.
He slowly lifted his eyes, seeing the brothers smirking at him and looking more comfortable now that he was unable to cause harm to any of them. He looked to Hermione.
"It's automatically gone to a safe place, a place you or no one else will ever be able to find, let alone have access to," she explained.
"What are you?" He asked.
"You're right, I'm different." She answered. "And I'm not sure if you've met someone of my kind before. For our safety and well-being we're very well hidden from both the supernatural and muggles."
Muggles? He was sure he'd heard that term before, somewhere in the back of his mind a memory was trying to resurface. A memory from long ago when he was still human.
"I'm a witch," she shrugged.
He eyed her strangely. She reached behind her and when her hand came into view, she had a wooden stick held gently in her grasp. She flicked it and almost everything in the room levitated off the ground, floating gently in the ar.
"I'm a true born witch."
He felt the breath being knocked out of him and his eyes widened. He would be lying if he didn't admit to himself he was a little afraid and that he may have gotten himself in trouble. She was right. All he knew was that she was a true born witch and he was already glad he had not made an enemy of her. There was not a lot that could frighten him, but a true born witch certainly did. A memory of his witch mother come to mind.
Sam laughed and Dean smirked.
"Do you know of my kind?" Hermione asked him. He felt himself nodding. "Excellent, then I don't have to waste my time explaining everything to you."
"I have a general idea of what you're capable of but that's going off the assumption you're an average witch, but I have the feeling you aren't," Crowley said.
Sam laughed and Dean felt a proud smile pull at his mouth.
"No, she is most certainly not average," Sam snorted.
"Have you heard tales of the Wizarding Wars?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, it would be difficult not to."
"And Harry Potter? Hermione Granger?"
"Yes," he replied, blinking slowly, wondering where she was going with this. "From what I've heard in passing, they're two of the most formidable true born magicals that have been seen in centuries."
Dean couldn't keep the smirk off his face no matter how hard he tried.
"Harry Potter is my little brother; my maiden name is Hermione Granger."
"Witch got your tongue?" Sam questioned, having too much fun with winding Crowley up, especially when he sat there with a pale and blank look on his face.
"Explanation enough?" Hermione asked.
He nodded, slowly pulling himself together and gaining his bearings, before looking to Dean with a raised eyebrow.
"I get it," he said knowingly. "I'm married to a witch, the very thing I've been taught to hate since I was a child, the very thing I hunt and kill. Glinda, here, is a true born witch. I've seen the things she's capable of. I've heard of and seen the good she's done. She's one of the most loved witches in her world and I can see why. She's one of the good ones."
"You're married to a witch!"
Sam couldn't help laugh at his completely confused look. God, he hadn't been so entertained in ages.
"Yes, I know, keep up," Dean replied with a sigh.
"She's pregnant!"
"With my baby, I'm aware; I was there when it happened."
Hermione rolled her eyes and Sam snorted. "I'm pregnant with the first magical generation of The Winchester line, and it'll continue to grow even after we've passed."
"Making us twice as dangerous," Dean said, looking at Crowley far too smugly for her liking and she elbowed him in the ribs. "And we're not stopping at one either," he said lightly. "I'm aiming for a minimum of three, even more if she agrees to it. I'm putting as many babies in her as she allows."
Crowley choked on his breath and by this time, Hermione had to throw a Silencio at Sam to silence his laughter. It was so loud it was giving her a headache. Her spell work didn't stop his laughter or deter him though; his shoulders were still shaking and his eyes on the verge of leaking tears.
"I think that's more than the poor demon can handle," Hermione spoke. "Now that the contract has been signed and you have answers to your questions, I think it's best you leave, I'm tired and Sam's going to pass out from laughing at you soon. He's grumpy when I revive him afterwards, so I'd like to avoid that. We're allies now, and I would appreciate it if you stopped having us followed and let us live our lives. All the stress you put on me is not good for the baby, and if anything happens and it's your fault, I assure you, Dean's not the one you need to be afraid of."
He considered her words and nodded slowly.
"I hope the next time we see each other, it's because you require my magical assistance, and not under other circumstances. Goodbye, Crowley."
"Winchesters," he nodded, before standing and leaving out the door, which Hermione locked behind him and Dean re-salted the door, since Sam was still in the middle of his fit of laughter. Every time he attempted to stop, it would bubble right back up.
Hermione rolled her eyes before shuffling on the bed until she was laying down and Dean laid beside her, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at her, with his hand entwined with hers as it rested on her stomach.
"And he's gone," she sighed.
"I'm sorry I over reacted before. You've never led us astray before, I should've trusted you when you told us your plan," he said.
She turned her head to look at him. "If you take me for pancakes in the morning I'll forgive you."
He chuckled and placed a kiss to her forehead. "When have I ever denied you food?"
"Never, which is one of the reasons I love you so much."
He raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. "So, I've been thinking, now that I've finally convinced you of my psychic abilities..." She snorted at him. "We should start thinking of names, I don't like referring to him as 'baby' or 'boy,' he needs a name."
Her mouth pulled into a smile. "And I assume you've already got some suggestions." He nodded. She peered over Dean and removed the Silencing Charm from Sam. "Pulled yourself together now?"
Sam nodded and appeared to be getting his breathing back under control, before he disappeared into the bathroom, presumably to shower.
"Alright, Patrick, let's hear these names."
"Jude?"
"No,"
"Lennon?"
"No,"
"Paul?"
"No, and I know what you're doing." He gave her an innocent look. "I love The Beatles as much as you do, but I'm not naming our child after them, besides, none of those names sound right when coupled with 'Winchester'." He conceded her point with a tip of his head. "And if you've got names picked out from any other of your favourite rock bands, you can forget them, too."
"Fine," he muttered and she rolled her eyes.
"Do you have any other suggestions?"
"Just common names, but with a name like yours, I was thinking something more unique."
"What were you thinking of for the more common names?"
"Ben, Thomas, Justin, Shaun, Max," he shrugged.
She bit her lip. "I don't mind Thomas, but I know what you mean about wanting something that's different. In the Wizarding World, a lot of the families name their children after people from myths or legends, the stars and constellations, and even flowers and plants. Ginny gave me a book before we left England, I haven't looked at it yet as I wanted to do that with you, it's basically a list of uncommon and unusual baby names."
"You have it with you?" She nodded. "Then let's have a look, I'm not letting our boy go any longer without a name."
Hermione smiled and stood to the retrieve the book. When she returned to the bed, Dean shifted so he was sitting with his back against the wall and he pulled Hermione to sit back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her and resting them on her stomach and resting his chin on her shoulder so they could look at the book together. Hermione went straight to the boys' section and they looked through it together.
"Oscar?" Dean asked, before they both waved it off.
"Jasper?" She said, but they both wrinkled their noses at the name.
"Alvin?"
"It doesn't sound right," she shook her head.
~000~000~000~
Hermione's hand had long since started to cramp so Dean took over holding the book and they continued to read through the names without any luck, until Hermione came across one name in particular.
"How about Evander?" She asked.
"Evander?" He questioned.
She nodded, before lifting her finger and pointing at the name in the book. "It says here it means warrior, wisdom and strength."
"Evander Winchester," he tried it out.
"Evan or Xander for short," she said.
"I like it," he nodded.
"I do, too, as for middle names, should we only have one, or two? Bearing in mind, we have three names to use, so if we're lucky enough to have another child and it happens to be a boy, we can use one there, too. Bobby, Sam and Harry," she listed off and he nodded in agreement. There was no else they would choose over those three.
"Evander Robert Winchester?" He suggested.
She frowned before nodding slowly. "I think we've made it official."
"Why?"
She tilted her head back to look at him and she smiled, before taking the book from him and putting it beside her. She took his hands in hers, placing them against her bare stomach, she waited a moment before they could feel it. A strong thump against their hands.
"Shit," Dean muttered in awe, and despite his language, she felt a large smile pull at her face. Despite her being six months along, this was the first time the baby had kicked strongly enough for Dean to feel it.
"He started kicking the moment you said his name."
"Evander Robert Winchester," he said aloud, before a loud laugh left him when he felt another kick against his hand, and he didn't think he could love his son or his wife anymore than he already did, and then he felt his son make his presence known for the first time.
"Are we in agreement?" She asked and he nodded instantly, his eyes glued to her stomach and his mouth pulled into a wide smile when he felt another kick.
"Sammy! Sammy! Get your ass out here!"
There was a crash before the bathroom door opened and a half dressed Sam barrelled out, looking around with wild eyes, before seeing that there was no sign of danger.
"What?" He questioned, pushing his wet hair out of his face with a huff. Hermione wished he'd let her give him a haircut.
"Want to meet your nephew?" Dean grinned at Sam and he frowned in confusion.
Hermione held a hand out to him expectantly and he walked over the bed, took her hand and sat down beside them.
"We would like to officially introduce you to your nephew," she said with a smile, before placing his hand against her stomach and holding it in place with her own. "Evander Robert Winchester."
Right on cue, their son gave a kick and Sam's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
"Oh My..."
"He's definitely going to be able to kick your ass with a kick like that," Dean grinned and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Men," she sighed.
Her eyes softened when both Dean and Sam shared a look and a nod, before their attention went back to her stomach. To their baby who would be with them, in their arms, in a matter of months.
And she couldn't wait.