A/N So this chapter is a bit longer to make up for some of the shorter ones, though not up to my usual length quite yet, you'll probably have to wait until Hogwarts for that. Anyway, I've gotten some notes about how Harry seems to be more able than she should be as a child. I know that children don't actually act like that, it's just that I wrote this years ago and I'm trying to fix some of the characterization mistakes I've made. In order to preserve some of the integrity of what I wrote a long time ago I'm trying to keep the basics of Harry's character, and at the moment I like to consider her lucky instead of competent. She's lucky that the three hunts that she went on were successful, and she did get injured in the last one. Hopefully this chapter makes clear some of the ways that she's still a kid, and how she can't do everything with her magic.

As always, un-betaed

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or Supernatural, or anything belonging to J.K. Rowling or Eric Kripke, I'm just using the characters for fun. I receive not money off of this story. Don't sue me.

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Chapter Five: Making Friends and Influencing Hunters

Bobby was appalled. He had expected something, but if what the demon said was true, she had been beaten. Then abandoned. Who did that to a child? Then celebrated? It was disgusting and his heart ached for the poor girl lying curled up on his guest room bed.

An idea tickled at his brain. He'd thought about it before, more than he'd care to admit, ever since he met Harry. When she saved his life. She had only gotten a minor wound from the knife, and she did have magic to protect her, but it was dangerous to throw herself in front of him. He had thought she was simply overconfident, although now, he wasn't sure if it was because of something more, something terrible. Did she maybe think her life was worth...less? Less than his? Bobby didn't really want to know. But his suspicions only cemented the idea in his mind .

When Harry finally woke, and Bobby led her downstairs for breakfast the next morning, he asked her a question.

"So, kid. I was wondering, where are you gonna go, now that the demons ran you out of your safehouse?" Harry looked up, sadness in her eyes, but otherwise looking okay.

"Well obviously I can't go back to my treehouse. It didn't take long for the demons to get out and find me, and it would just be tempting fate. Shame, I liked Georgia. I'm actually not sure. I'll find somewhere."

"Well, I was thinking...You could stay with me?" Bobby finished quickly, looking over his coffee at her. Harry was startled, and immediately suspicious.

"Why? Why would you offer that?" She asked, eyes narrowed. Why would you want me?

"Well you've got no place else to go, and I figured why not? Just until you're ready to leave, what do you say?" Harry contemplated the offer. It would be nice to not be alone anymore. And although she was certain Bobby had different motivations, or at least something more than he was saying, she didn't think he was untrustworthy. Of course, she couldn't stay for too long, lest the monsters come and try to hurt Bobby. She wouldn't let that happen. But for now, the grumpy old hunter would do just fine.

"Okay, sure." Bobby smiled, one of the first real ones she'd seen of his. He didn't use any teeth, but it was warm and comforting, his eyes crinkling a bit and it made her feel safe, surprisingly.

"Alright, couple of ground rules. One, don't leave the junkyard unless I know. Two, no summoning or rituals here-"

"I told you, my kind of magic doesn't require rituals or summoning anything."

"Yes, but I'd just like to put that out there. Three, no hunting."

"What! Why not?!"

"Because you're too young, no matter what training you've had. It's not healthy, you should have some semblance of a normal childhood."

"But I'm good at it!"

"You've been on what, three hunts? And the last one you got stabbed! And I know you were saving me and thank you for that, but I just don't think you should be doing this yet. I didn't say never, just give it a couple years, then I'll take you out with me if you really want to hunt."

"I wasn't stabbed! I was nicked! 'Twas but a flesh wound!" Harry argued.

"You know, for someone who's homeless, you've got a surprisingly large amount of nerdy information."

"You recognized the reference. Besides, quotes like that make really good one liners when you're hunting."

"You haven't been on enough hunts to fill up one hand. How much sass are you planning on using on one ghost?" Bobby asked, exasperated at the kid.

"I prefer the term witty."

"I prefer the term idjit. Now shut your gab and listen. No, you can't go hunting, and I know you could probably just leave and continue on your own. But I don't think you will. I think you want to stay, because you're lonely. So, follow the rules and you stay, and you stop bein' so lonely." Bobby spread his hands in front of him like it was the best offer she would get.

Harry squinted at him, considering. "Smaller hunts when I do the research and they're vetted by you."

"Supervised hunts when I give you a case to do research on, no more than once every two months."

Harry nodded at his words, knowing when to accept defeat. It wouldn't be all bad. She could still train in the meantime, and it wasn't like she had been going on constant cases anyway. "Deal." Harry spit on her hand and held it out for Bobby to shake. He gave her a look that said 'Really?'

"What, that's not something people do?"

"Idjit." Harry pouted, retracting her hand. "Now, I've got a couple guest rooms, you want to pick one out? Then we can go shopping for, I don't know, whatever a kid wants for a bedroom?" He looked uncomfortable, and Harry almost laughed at his expression. She stood up and cleared the table, an action second hand to her because of the Dursley's and her own habit of tidiness. Which could also be attributed to the Dursley's and their house-breaking of Harry.

They walked up the stairs and Harry picked the room she had used last night. It was in the corner of the second floor. Over the sitting room, the ceiling slanted down at an angle where the roof curved. A window and reading nook met the downwards curve of the ceiling. A wardrobe was pushed up against the back wall, and the bed sat across from it in the corner. A bookshelf, empty except for a few volumes, stood opposite the door. The dark wood floor complemented the midnight blue tones of the paint on the wall. Harry liked her room.

"So do you need to go clothes shopping or…" Bobby trailed off as she opened her bag and waved her hand, clothes flying out of the main zipper. The few shirts and skirts hung themselves in the dresser, everything else folding into the drawers, including a couple pairs of balled socks. Bobby blinked, then nodded, turning from the room.

"Okay, I'll just leave you to get settled then." Harry fixed the rest of the room, placing her books in the bookshelf, her journal on the desk in front of the second window. She spent the rest of the day cleaning up around the house. She could deal with a messy place to live, but the dust was everywhere, and it was amusing to see Bobby's face when a feather duster floated past his face to tidy up another area. When Harry went to bed, she had a smile on her face.

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It took a while for Harry and Bobby to get used to each other. They lived together, but at first it was hard to find common grounds, apart from hunting that is. Then, one day, Harry found Bobby working on a blue, 1971 Chevy Camaro, complete with racing stripes.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked, sauntering up to Bobby, who was working under the hood.

"What's it look like I'm doing? Work. The spark plugs Aren't working right ." Harry looked to where he was gesturing, a milieu of mechanical parts that she couldn't differentiate from each other. She was interested, as she was bored of going over her journal.

"Is it easy to fix?"

"Sort of."

"Can you teach me?" Bobby looked over to her in surprise. For two weeks she'd stayed mostly in her room, or exercising in the yard. If she was finally taking interest in something other than books and hunting, who was he to stop her.

"Sure. You just got to use the deep sockets. Pop off the covers, unscrew 'em, and you just put in some newer, cleaner ones in. That should fix it, unless it's a really old engine and it's harder to access." Harry nodded and watched as he completed the process. She was bored, and there were quite a lot of cars around the yard. It could be a good hobby.

From then on, at least once a week Harry and Bobby spent a couple hours looking at cars, fixing them up together. Harry, of course, found a book on mechanics and studied it. She had thought she could just use magic to fix it. Of course, the first time she tried to fix an engine with a wave of her hand, the engine blew, leaving her to walk back inside for a shower while studiously ignoring Bobby's questions as to why her face was covered in soot.

"I got a question." Blurted Bobby. He was sitting on the couch watching her while she read one of her old books, The Fellowship of the Ring. When she nodded assent he continued. "How come you're always reading. It's just, you don't seem the type."

"Well, back when I first found myself in Georgia, I went to the library to research Wendigos. It's how I started all this, actually. I read a lot about the supernatural there. I didn't get a lot of real human contact, most of my conversations were to waitresses, and they were all lies. I was bored, and I didn't have money to see a movie, so I kind of made myself like books, and the habit stuck I guess? Books don't insult you. They're there for you when you need them, to provide an escape. They don't abandon you…" Harry looked up, realizing she'd been rambling. Bobby just nodded and went back to his beer. That night he played a Star Wars movie marathon found on a film channel, and the tradition began.

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Harry had been living with Bobby for a month and a half when he showed up on the doorstep. The doorbell rang, and Bobby went to answer it with a shotgun and flask in hand. The door opened and Harry heard snippets of a conversation from her place in the sitting room.

"-Bobby, but I can't take them with me on this one, I need your help wi-"

"-Shouldn't have to be with them, you need raise your own-"

"-A lead, it's promising. Please?"

"Fine." Harry heard heavy footsteps heading to the room, and put down the scroll she had been translating from Latin. A man with scruffy black hair and a stern demeanor entered the room, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead when he caught sight of her.

"Aren't you-"

"Hey Mr. Winchester." Harry stood up and held out her hand to the man, who shook it as Bobby came up behind him.

"You know him?" asked Bobby.

"Yah, this is the guy who helped with that demon. By the way," she said, turning to John. "It got out and came after me, so I don't know if any of the nasties visited you but you might want to be aware of that." John nodded, still looking at her as if he couldn't quite believe it. It was only then that Harry noticed the little boy peeking out from behind John's legs. An older boy was next to him, a hand on his shoulder.

Catching Harry's gaze, Bobby hurried to make an introduction. "Harry, these are John's boys, Dean and Sam." The older one nodded hello, while the younger waved at her. "They'll be staying with us while John takes care of some business." The younger boy levelled an inquisitive look upon Harry.

"What did you mean by demon?" Harry glances at John, who gave a shake of his head. Harry crouched down and smiled, answering very convincingly.

"Oh, just a figure of speech. There was a dog that was chasing me, it was gigantic and super scary, and your Dad helped capture it before it could hurt me. But it escaped, and so did some of its pals. Bobby was able to lock it back up, but it might escape again." Sam nodded, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. John nodded in thanks.

"I have to go. Dean, keep your brother safe. I'll see you soon boys." He gave Sam a quick hug and Dean a knowing look.

Dean pronounced a sharp "Yessir," and John was gone. He turned to Harry. "Dean Winchester"

"Harry Potter." She shook his hand, then Sam, who giggled at the action.

"But Harry's a boy name. You're not a boy." Sam frowned, as if reconsidering that maybe Harry was a boy after all. "Are you?"

"I'm a girl. Harry can be a girl name too."

"But how?"

"Well 'Sam' could be a girl name," she teased.

The boy's eyes went big. "No it can't!"

"Yep, it's short for Samantha." Harry smirked as the boy went clambering to his older brother.

"Dean! Dean, is my name…Samantha?" Sam's eyes were wide and pleading with Dean.

"Oh yah, Sammy. You looked so like a girl when you were born that the Doctor's thought you were one and messed up your birth certificate."

"Dean no!"

"I'm sorry they kept this from you, Samantha." Harry choked in a laugh when Sam turned to her even more upset.

"Bobby!" Sam ran through the room to the kitchen while Harry and Dean fist bumped. They followed a few seconds later to find Sam tugging at Bobby's pants while asking him to please please say the 'hospal' didn't mess up his name. Bobby levelled a glare at the older children, and Harry tried to look as innocent as possible as the gruff man tried to explain to Sam that no, his name wasn't Samantha, it was Samuel, and no, Harry wasn't evil.

Later, Bobby showed them to their room, while Harry waited downstairs. Dean and Sam came back down for lunch, which was PB&J sandwiches and waters. After Bobby left to go call some hunter with information, Harry turned to Dean.

"Do you guys want to play hide and seek?" She had never really played, at least not where the stakes were as low as being it next round. Sam nodded, so Dean agreed as well. Harry was it, and she counted to twenty before heading out to look for Dean and Sam. She spotted a pair of feet on the other side of a car. Creeping around the car, she jumped out and screamed "Found you!" Sam jumped back in surprise, falling over. Then he started laughing.

Harry and Sam went to look for Dean, but couldn't find him anywhere. Harry sent out a gentle pulse of magic, because it was taking too long anyways, and she saw the outline of a boy curled up in the feet area of the driver's seat of a rusted car. She waved Sam along, shushing him with her finger. Holding the door handle, she pulled it quickly open with a yell, and Dean tumbled out from where he was leaning against the door and landed in the dirt with a surprised yelp.

"How'd you find me?" He demanded.

"Magic," Harry deadpanned. Dean rolled his eyes and they played again, with him as the seeker. He never did find Harry, who was concealed in the branches of one of the trees near Bobby's house.

"I give up!" Harry heard Dean shout, twenty minutes later. She dropped from her hiding spot and rolled, coming to her feet right in front of Dean, whose jaw brushed the floor.

"How'd you do that?" he asked.

"I lived in a treehouse for two years, I can climb around pretty well. Not even considering the training exercise I did."

"Training exercise?"

"Yah. I had to be in shape for hunting, didn't I?" Dean's eyes widened, his tough facade dropping away.

"You were a hunter? But you're like, seven!"

"What is it with people and my age? I'm eight now, dummy, and I was six when I started. I only had three actual cases, got stabbed on one of the last ones. Sorry, I mean cut. It wasn't so bad. Well, never mind it was a pretty bad cut. And then these demons followed me to my treehouse so I had to leave. And since I've been at Bobby's, I haven't been able to hunt, so that's that. I mean, he said he'd supervise a hunt if I did the research and it wasn't too bad, but he hasn't found one yet or something." Dean looked, if possible, even more incredulous at this.

"What did you hunt? Tell me everything! I want to, but my Dad says I'm not old enough." They went inside to the sitting room to talk. Sam had gone to take a nape ten minutes ago, and Bobby was working on another car.

"Well first I stopped a demon, with your Dad actually."

"You're the girl! The one with powers. Dad told me about you." Harry shrugged. "Wait, earlier you said you found me by 'magic'. You cheated!"

"Nope."

"Yes you did! Are you a pumpkin eater as well as a liar?" Dean accused.

"Am I a what?"

"A cheater cheater pumpkin eater."

"Where did that come from?"

"You've never heard of a pumpkin eater?"

"No. I haven't had the chance to play with other people my age before. Is it a common phrase?" Harry tilted her head, curious.

"Oh yah, you'll see it everywhere." Dean grinned.

"But why 'pumpkin eater?'" Harry wondered.

"You don't know?" Dean asked with a gasp.

"Obviously not."

"Well, it's said that there was a little girl who played games with the other kids, but cheated. In retribution, the spirit of the Great Pumpkin offered her a feast for using her wits to outplay the others. She greedily accepted, and met the pumpkin at midnight on Halloween for the food and gifts. Except, when she got there, there wasn't any feast. There were rows of pumpkins who had committed great crimes, and their punishment lied with hers. She was forced to gorge on the pumpkins flesh and guts until she could either finish all of the pumpkins. In misery, she begged the Great Pumpkin to free her from her punishment after eating half of the 'feast'. He allowed her to make a vow to never cheat again. When she agreed and left, the others heard of what had happened, and the phrase is used both as a warning for kids and a call to the Great Pumpkin to take another for punishment after thousands of years made the story less frightening." Dean finished with a huff, throwing his hands about in a dramatic way.

Harry started at Dean, frightened and intrigued until she saw the corner of his mouth pulling up. "Bullshit."

Dean burst out laughing. "You fell for it!"

"No I didn't," she glared, crossing her arms and stomping back to the house as Dean followed. Eventually her anger faded in the light of his questions.

"What's it like, having magic?"

"Pretty cool. I can do a lot of things! Want to see?" Dean nodded eagerly. Harry laughed a bit, seeing how his whole tough guy act was really just a front. She wiggled her fingers and a ball of light appeared in her palm. She tossed it into the air, and it hovered between the two of them. Dean touched it, and it split into a thousand tiny butterflies, which flew around the room and then out the window in a blaze of illuminated colors.

"Wow." They spent the time until dinner talking about hunting and the music they liked, and movies, and magic. By the time they sat down next to each other for dinner, Harry and Dean were well on their way to becoming great friends.

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The rest of Sam and Dean's visit was spent playing normal games, laughing at jokes, watching movies, and jamming out to rock songs played on a car radio, Harry and Dean sitting in the front seats and Sam in the back. By the time there Dad came to pick them up again a couple weeks later, they were best friends.

A month passed, and Bobby had to go on a hunt. After explaining that it was two high maintenance for their agreement, he told Harry explicitly to stay inside, and if she had to break that rule to stay in the boundary line. She understood, well, she pouted, but ultimately conceded, and they said their goodbyes. Not long after that, Harry was sitting in the living room watching The Wizard of Oz, when the phone rang. She paused the movie and got up to see which one was ringing. The house phone with "info" scribbled on the tape released shrill rings. Harry picked it up and put it to her ear.

"Bobby, I need information on Skinwalkers! There's a couple of 'em in town and they're turning more people. The only things I can find in the local library are werewolf texts, and probably not good ones either."

"Well it's a local library, what do you expect?" She walked over to a stack of books and carefully extrapolated one of them from the teetering pile. Holding the phone between her shoulder and ear, she flipped through the book until she found the right page. Harry balanced the book in one hand, retrieving the phone from its precarious position.

"Who the hell is this? This is Bobby Singer's number!"

"Yes, and he's on a hunt, so I'm filling in. Or would you rather go about it on your own?" Harry heard some muffled grumbling from the other line. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, fine. " The man on the other end made an impatient noise. "Go on."

"Rude," muttered Harry. "If it's a Skinwalker, try silver. It's got the same vulnerabilities as a werewolf, according to this book. I suppose you could try cutting off its head if that doesn't work, that's usually the end all option. Silver is the only way to kill it permanently. If you cut off the head, make sure to use a longer weapon than just a regular old knife. They infect others through bite and if you get bitten while trying to stab them you'll turn into one of them, and that would be just terrible I'm sure." She flipped the page and narrowed her eyes, unimpressed by the lack of information. Harry crossed the room in a couple quick strides, and picked up her journal. She flipped to the Skinwalker section under creatures.

"Super senses, strength, speed, and they just happen to be invulnerable to regular bullets and fire. That means it won't kill them, if you're having trouble keeping up. I don't have much more information, but basically if shapeshifters and werewolves had a kid, this would be it"

"I got it, I don't need some kid bossing me around. What Bobby was thinkin' I have no idea," he trailed off.

"Basically silver is your only method, and you better hope they're asleep or distracted with something else or it's bye-bye human, hello doggy. Oh, also, they can appear as normal humans, so maybe don't trust anyone? Good?" Hearing a grunt of assent, Harry placed the phone back in the receiver.

One week and a couple more research request calls later, Bobby arrived back home. He and Rufus killed a nest of Vamps in Mankato. Not too shabby for the pair of them. Rufus came back with Bobby to "celebrate their success", in which he took advantage of Bobby's liquor supply. He met Harry, almost shot Harry ("I swear, if one more guy tries to shoot me—"), then settled down after getting the whole magical explanation. Harry knew about the statue of secrecy, having made trips to Diagon Alley every two months to speak with Griphook and renew her magical supply of things. Her trust vault hadn't even been decreased by 2% percent. So, she knew about the statue, but could get around it considering the people she told already knew of magic in some aspects.

Bobby and Harry settled into a sort of routine. They ate together, talked together, debated about hunting techniques, ways to kill monsters, how to best fix a certain part of an automobile. Dean and Sam kept visiting, dropped off by their father.

Harry wanted to like John Winchester, and she did, normally. But he seemed more restricted the longer she knew him. He trained Dean to hunt, leaving him with the responsibility of protecting Sammy. He acted more like a drill sergeant than a father. Harry could sort of understand, after all he had been through, and she saw that he loved his children. But he was on a path to raise his kids into hunting, and she wasn't sure any kid should have to deal with that.

Granted, she was eight and was technically being raised into hunting, but it had been her choice. She had started the whole process. Although, she seemed to attract quite a bit of trouble anyways, so maybe there had never really been a choice?

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Weeks turned into months, and months to years. The Winchesters and Harry were best friends, and it was considered a gift to be left at Bobby's so they could be together. Harry was turning eleven today, and she knew vaguely that a letter was coming for her, but the thought was drowned out by the party that had been thrown for her. An actual party. She'd had two now, ever since she made the decision to stay with Bobby three years ago. He said that he'd allow her to go with him on some larger hunts now. Some, he said, only if she did all her work carefully. Since the original deal of small hunts every once in a while, Harry had assisted in taking out another two ghosts, a leprechaun (which she thought was pretty cool), and even a banshee, though it turned out to be a benevolent one that only foresaw death instead of causing it. She didn't care if she was only going to move up a small bit, she was too excited by the prospect of hunting things other than ghosts.

Sam and Dean just happened to be there the day she turned eleven, and helped with the party. There was cake and presents. Sam and Dean got her new charms each for the bracelet she had received from them last year. Dean gave her an anti-possession one, and Sam had found a rune charm. It was norse, translating to the idea that "that which does not destroy me makes me stronger". Bobby got her a new gun.

They were just about to cut the cake when a screech was heard at the window. Harry rushed over and let the barn owl in, ignoring the looks of incredulity pasted on the boys' faces. She retrieved the letter from its claws and offered the bird some of the morning's leftover bacon before reading it through. She asked the bird to wait a moment, then ran out of the room, coming back with notebook paper and a pen. She scrawled a hasty reply, then tied it to the owl's leg. It soared out the window with a whirlwind of brown feathers.

"What was that?" spluttered Dean. Harry held up a piece of parchment with a smile plastered on her face.

Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

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Outofthisworldgal: I suppose this chapter answers your first question, and I'm unsure about the second one yet. Probably, if she continues to hang out with the Winchesters.

Olsaint: Harry's born in 1980, Dean in 1979, and Sam in 1983. At the beginning of the chapter, Harry is about 8 or so, Dean is about 9, and Sam is 5. The chapter continues until Harry is 11, Dean is 12, and Sam is 8. I did make a timeline error, due to my original floundering about if I should move up the timeline, so the corrections have been made to the previous chapter. I think the chapter answered you other question.

Dark Neko 4000: Spoilers.

Mr. Heller: I know there are a lot of clichés in the earlier chapters, and probably some more in the later ones too. When I wrote this I was very into the idea of clichéd, overpowered, overly wealthy Harry. I'm trying to tone it down a bit, thanks for the constructive criticism. Also, thank you for the compliments. Unfortunately she will be going back to Britain for Hogwarts, but the majority of the later story will be in the U.S.

Lady Shagging Godiva: I addressed the seemingly unattainable competence of Harry at the top of the chapter. I'll just say that she isn't going to be able to get by with her natural magic skills, she will have to learn some things at Hogwarts. This is because while she has the theory that magic is better wandless and with intent because of the similarity to electrical currents, there are things she will have to learnt the theories for because of how she needs to understand something to will it. Also, there is a reason for her overpowered traits, which will be explained later in the story. I fully intend for her to need to make those connections as well, seeing as she is going to need more information and connections in order to be a good hunter.