Unfound

Chapter Two

Season 12 Episodes 4, 6, 7, & 8: American Nightmare, Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, Rock Never Dies, and LOTUS

"Minister?"

Hermione looked up. It was already late in the afternoon and she had been hoping to get home in time for dinner tonight. But, from the look on the man's face, she saw that possibility fly out the window.

"Head Auror Oliphant, please come in."

He did. He looked uneasy, so Hermione knew it was bad news.

"What is it this time? Has there been another attack?" Recently, there had been a string of attacks against muggles that were perceived to be by muggle hunters. Of course, there were no civilian hunters in Britain - they were all under the Men of Letters and far too capable to be caught by the bottom-feeding wizards who bought into the propaganda that they were evil. No, it was just a new, more socially acceptable form of bigotry. She had thought that they were beginning to get past it, but there always seemed to be something new popping up.

He shook his head. "No. Not this time. There has been a...problem... with the Men of Letter's mission with MACUSA."

"Already? Didn't they just get there?"

MACUSA had been dealing with an outcry from its citizens about the incursion of Supernatural incidents and therefore, a rise in the number of hunters that were dealing with it. Wizards attacking hunters was a real problem state-side, because some of the more inexperienced were easily caught. The relationship between the muggle government and MACUSA was tenser than it had ever been. To the point that MACUSA was worried that the US government might take desperate action. So, they had reached out to Hermione for a special favor. A small group of the British Men of Letters to look into the possibility of re-establishing the organization in the United States.

Hermione had reluctantly agreed, after many meetings, coercion from her Auror department, and political pressures. She didn't like the Men of Letters and sincerely wished that Harry had finished his work dismantling them during his tenure. They had proven to be nothing but a thorn in her side since she had extended the olive branch between Kendricks and Hogwarts. Also, knowing what she did about American hunters, she highly doubted they would be so easily brought to heal under the umbrella of the Men of Letters.

"They did. It seems that one of their agents went a bit...rogue."

"Rogue?"

"Yes, Lady Bevell was a little enthusiastic in her assignment."

Hermione knew there was something the man in front of her didn't want to tell her. Euclid Oliphant wasn't her least favorite of the post-Harry Head Aurors but he was far from the top of her list. She had gone through a shameful number of them in the five years since Harry's departure and death. His shoes were just too big to fill, both for her personally, and for the wizarding public. But this one at least had a modicum of respect for her and her ideas and suggestions. They didn't always see eye-to-eye but they got along well enough to make their working relationship tolerable.

"Just come out with it, Euclid."

The Auror looked down, before taking a deep breath and saying, "She encountered an American hunter who was...less than cooperative and decided to use - ill-advised tactics to question him. She has been brought back to Britain to face censure, but when I saw who it was, I knew that I needed to bring this to your attention. Immediately."

Hermione's face when ashen. "Who was it?" She asked, even though she had a sinking suspicion.

"Sam Winchester."

III

Dean, Sam, and Mary returned to the Bunker after salt and burning the ghost that had been killing children and keeping their ghosts for himself in his house. Overall, it hit a little too close to home for Mary. Sam had shot her worried looks the whole way home. She had been deep in thought for most of it, ignoring her boys and just trying to recall whatever she could about the case of her own missing child.

Dean had seemed comfortable with the heavy silence, just pleased to have his family around him and hunting together again. It felt right to him - like it was all that he had been missing since John died.

"Well, you gonna take a shower? Take a nap?" He asked his mom once they were back inside. Those were the top two things on his to-do list. "You really went through it today."

"No. I'm ok."

She didn't sound ok.

"And, um...listen, apologies if, uh, me and Sam hijacked or sidelined you in any way. I mean, this was your case, you know? And...well, you kicked ass. Again."

Mary looked at him incredulously. "I kicked ass? You saved me. I - "

"Yeah, but you were right. You know, those kids were innocent. I mean, hell, we didn't even know what Moriarty's deal was."

"I do," Mary said simply. Dean was surprised. "When he possessed me, I saw...I felt it. All of it. When Hugo lost his child, he went mad. Buried himself alive in his basement and walled himself in and starved to death."

"Damn," Dean said. He looked at his mother a little more carefully than he did before. Was she thinking about Harry? Did she still think about him at all? He didn't dare ask, because he wasn't sure he wanted to know, nor did he want to open that particular can of worms.

Mary kept going. "But when new families moved in, families with children, he coveted those children. So, he took them. Killed them. And somehow that bound their spirits to his. That's where he got his power. He was so...greedy. Twisted." Mary could console herself that she, at least, hadn't let her grief hurt anyone else. But feeling the grief of that horrible man had brought hers to the surface. Since coming back, she had barely thought about her lost child. She felt like the worst mother in the world.

"Mom, it's ok," he tried to comfort her. "Alright? You're home now."

She looked down. "No."

That stung.

"I'm not. I miss John. I miss my boys." 'All of them,' she thought to herself.

Sam walked in behind her. "We're right here, mom," his hurt playing strong on his face.

Mary wasn't looking at him. Or Dean. She couldn't bear it. "I know. In my head. But I'm still mourning them as I knew them. My baby Sam," she touched his face. "My little boy, Dean," she turned and looked at Dean. "Just feels like yesterday, we were together in heaven, and now...I'm here, and John is gone, and they're gone." And it wasn't until this moment that she realized that her second son, the one who they had said died, hadn't been with her in heaven. Which meant, maybe, he was still out there, somewhere. Looking for her. And that broke her heart. "And every moment I spend with you reminds me of every moment I lost with them."

She desperately wanted Sam and Dean to understand. But she also didn't want to burden them with this grief that she was feeling. Another dead family member was the last thing they needed. But if she could find him...that spurned her on to say what she needed to say. "And I thought hunting, working, would clear my head…"

"Mom, w-what are you trying to say?" Sam asked, although he already knew.

"I have to go."

Dean felt like throwing up. She stepped towards him, but the look on Sam's face alone - the suffering his little brother was having to feel, not just his own hurt, was enough to make him step away from her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so...so sorry. I just need a little time." She looked sadly at Dean. John's journal was on the table. She picked it up. She had done a quick read-through, but maybe there would be something in there that could help her. To leave, that put Sam right in her path.

"I love you," she said to him and she gave him a tight hug. She turned back to Dean one more time. "I love you both." And then, she walked out.

III

After Mary discovered the symbol on the grave, she got to work. Her boys had shown her how to use a computer and had even offered to buy her one. She had no idea where their money came from, but she was sure that she didn't want to take any handouts. Her first stop had been to the old Campbell base - home of one of the greatest libraries of hunting lore that existed. (Or so she had believed before she had seen the Men of Letters bunker.)

Only, she found that it had been raided. No books left.

She sighed, heavily, but wasn't too disheartened. Her father had been paranoid, as any good hunter would be, and she knew where he had stashed copies of many of the books. The problem was that that was going to be a bit of a wild goose chase. And she wasn't sure that they would have any of the information that she was looking for.

So, she started searching libraries. Her days started to look much the same. In the morning, she'd wake up, check out of whatever dump-of-a-motel she was in, and head to the local library in the town. Sometimes, she knew from experience that the small libraries contained the most useful texts. Oftentimes hidden by hunters past. She'd spend all day there, only taking a quick break for lunch. When it closed, she would drive to the next town, find a late dinner, check into another motel, and start the process over again.

She did this for weeks. Until, finally, she found something. She was in a small Louisiana town when a young girl peered over her shoulder and saw the symbol that she had in front of her.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she said politely. She couldn't be more than six or seven. "That's the same symbol that is on my book!"

Mary turned and smiled at the child. "Is it? Which book are you reading?" She didn't think that this would lead anywhere, but Mary loved children.

The girl pulled a book that had been previously tucked under her arm, out so that Mary could see it.

It was unlike anything she had ever seen before. The book was shaped like a regular children's book, but the picture on the front...it was moving. The drawing on the front of the book cover was beautiful and had stunning detail. There was a picture of a bridge that was magically created by a shadowy figure holding a stick - no, not a stick, a wand. The leaves on the trees were rustling gently and she could almost hear the sound of the water as it sped past.

Mary knew that the world was different from when she was last in it. But she had seen many books in the last couple of weeks and none of them looked like this.

"You see it there?" The little girl asked.

Mary had forgotten she was there and looked where the girl was pointing. Sure enough, carved onto the tree was the symbol that had been on her grave.

"My parents had to take my sister to her flying class. She gave me this book to read - but some of the words are just too big! Would you read it to me?"

Even if Mary hadn't been extremely interested in the content of the book, she would have found it difficult to say no to this little girl.

"I'd be happy to. Here, let's move to the children's corner," Mary said, wanting to be sure that she remained in a very public and open place with another person's child. She was currently crammed into a back, poorly lit corner.

"Ohh, that's where the no-maj children sit. I love no-majes! Yes, let's go." She enthusiastically took Mary's hand and dragged her over to the colorful children's mat that was filled with squishy bean bag chairs, overly-stuffed pillows, and stuffed animals for the children to hold.

The little girl sat in front of the stool that Mary had pulled up, eagerly awaiting the story.

"Susie Q Goes Questing Too," was the title. Which seemed a little silly for the ominous picture on the front. The story followed the adventure of a little girl who looked suspiciously like the one in front of her, who went on a quest for something called the Deathly Hallows. It seemed mostly like nonsense to Mary, but that wasn't was important, it was that this book was clearly not meant for someone like her. There was something different about this little girl.

The story in the book was interesting too. It was filled with witches and wizards. And morbidly, Death. Mary had learned long ago not to disregard fairytales - they usually contained more than just a kernel of truth. If the symbol on her grave was the same one that was mentioned in this book, then she had something new to go on. The Deathly Hallows.

"Oh, Simone," a woman ran up to the two of them. "We left you alone for five minutes." She looked in horror that Mary was holding the book. "I am so sorry if she bothered you. And - uh, the book, it's a new technology that…"

"It's alright, I'm not a no-maj," Mary assured the woman. She wasn't entirely sure what she was saying, but she had picked up that that term described the people in here that weren't...witches, like the little girl.

Mary wasn't sure she had ever seen anyone look more relieved.

"Oh, thank Merlin," she said. "She must have wandered out of the wizarding story hour. I thought I'd have to call the obliviation squad, and it would be this whole big thing…"

Mary smiled. "No need to call. I enjoyed meeting you, Simone, and reading your book with you."

The woman blushed. "Oh, please don't think we're some sort of weirdos. My elder daughter is just going through a Questing phase. Once she goes off to Ilvermorney, I'm sure that the fervor will die down."

"No judgment here," Mary said. "I have two boys of my own, I know how kids are." Tragically, she didn't, but she wanted to see if she could keep this woman talking and learn more about the Deathly Hallows. Or whatever it was that this woman and her child were.

"Oh lovely, how old are they?"

"Old enough to be past the Questing phase," Mary responded vaguely.

"Are you new in town? I've never seen you around before, but if your boys are at school, I'm sure I'll see you when it's time to drop the little ones off at the portkey stop." She looked distracted. "Oh, my husband is calling me. It was nice of you…"

"Mary."

"Mary. Great. I'm Augustina. It was great to meet you - " Her daughter pulled her away then and she waved goodbye. "Hopefully we'll see you around!"

As soon as the woman was out of sight, Mary rushed over to her purse. She didn't want to forget anything. Carefully, she wrote down what she thought was most important in the conversation. She proudly looked at her little list of new search terms: No-maj, Deathly Hallows, Elder Wand, Invisibility Cloak, Resurrection Stone, Questing, Ilvermorney, Obliviation Squad. Witches? She added to the end.

She had caught onto something. What, exactly, she didn't know. But she felt hope for the first time in a long time.

III

It had been an emotionally charged couple of days when Sam and Dean went slogging back to the Bunker. Seeing their mom at Asa Fox's funeral had been…difficult. And Sam could tell that their mother's continued absence was weighing on Dean.

They were getting close to the end of their road trip when Dean said something that truly surprised Sam.

"I guess we know how Harry felt now."

Dean bringing up Harry, unprompted, was unheard of. Sam didn't want to spook him, in case his older brother was actually ready to start processing what had happened all that time ago, instead of just repressing it.

"Oh, yeah, in what way?" He asked, carefully. But also trying to not seem too careful. Dean could sense "chick-flick" moments from a mile away.

"All those hunters telling stories about us. I thought he was crazy to not enjoy being famous. But that was...uncomfortable."

Sam snorted. "No kidding. And that was just a couple of hunters, imagine if that was everywhere we went."

"Huh," Dean grunted. He hesitated for a moment. "What do you think he'd make of all of this?"

"All of what?"

"You know – mom. Being back. Hunting."

"He'd have an army of wizards following her everywhere she went."

Dean laughed. "Yeah, that sounds like him. She'd hate that."

"She'd never know if she was anything like Dad and us."

"Do you think that we should - you know, ask for someone to look out for her?"

"Like one of Harry's people?" Sam was surprised.

"Yeah. Just to let us know if she gets into trouble. So that we could help. You're a wizard, so, technically, you could be the one to hire them."

Sam stiffened. He was a wizard - yeah, but he never did magic in front of Dean. Mary didn't even know that he was one. He kept his wand in the trunk of the Impala or securely hidden in his room. Gadreel had accidentally restored his magic, stronger than ever. He now had a middling amount of power. Spellcasting was no longer as challenging, but he only ever practiced in the Bunker.

It was unclear how wizarding magic would affect supernatural creatures, so he didn't want to risk a spell backfiring or not doing what it was supposed to during a fight. That, and he wasn't up-to-date on the latest MACUSA laws about the use of magic around hunters and he did not want to bring the organization down on him and Dean.

"I don't think that's a very good idea, Dean," he frowned.

"Yeah, probably not, forget it."

They were approaching the bunker when they spotted a short redhead sitting out front. Dean quickly parked the car and they got out - both pulling out their guns.

When they got close, they recognized the woman and lowered their weapons.

"Ginny?"

She turned and smiled at them. "Dean. Sam."

She gave both of them hugs as they looked a little shell-shocked to see her.

Sam hadn't seen her since the day he left Hogwarts. They had talked a couple of times, but that was about it. She was as beautiful as he remembered.

As she pulled away from Dean, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

"It's a bit of a long story, but I needed to check up on the two of you. Could we go inside and talk?"

The brothers exchanged looks over her head.

"How'd you even find the place?" Sam asked as they nodded in agreement.

"Oh, I asked Luna. Her directions were very...Luna, but I eventually understood. She told me that I wouldn't be able to get in on my own, and I have to say, I am impressed by the wards."

A short time later they were in the map room of the bunker. The silence was awkward.

"Uh - does anyone want a beer?" Dean asked, feeling the tension between Sam and Ginny. He had no idea where it came from, but it was so strong that he felt like he could taste it in the air.

"Sure," Sam said.

"Me too," Ginny agreed, thinking alcohol would probably help this situation greatly.

Dean left the room as quickly as he could. As soon as he did, Ginny rounded on Sam. "Are you alright?"

Sam looked at her, startled. "Uh - yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Don't try to fool me, Samuel Winchester. I know what happened to you. Those potions she used on your mind - those are highly illegal and very dangerous." Her eye contact was fierce as she searched Sam's face for the truth.

Honestly, so much had happened in the last couple of weeks that it took Sam a second to even place what Ginny was talking about.

"Are you talking about what happened with the British Men of Letters?" He asked, surprised.

"Of course. Hermione sent me. That...Lady Bevell was brought up on charges in the UK. Hermione saw the memories of what she did to you. The torture. Sam, why didn't you use magic to get yourself out of there?"

Sam rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly. "I didn't have my wand. And honestly, it never even occurred to me. But I'm fine."

Dean came back with the beers.

"Dean, I was right. The British Men of Letters are connected to the Ministry of Magic."

"You don't carry your wand with you? Sam, that's reckless."

Sam bristled. This was venturing into familiar territory and he did not like it. "You know that I'm not fully trained - it's a liability."

"You're not a liability, Sam."

"I didn't say that I was a liability, I said that…"

He fell silent when he noticed the expression on Dean's face. His older brother was looking back and forth between the two of them as if he was trying to figure something out.

"What happened in here?"

"Nothing," the two of them said at the same time and then they turned and glared at each other.

"Oookay," Dean said, handing them each a beer, clearly not believing a word they said. "So, what brings you here Gin?" Ginny suppressed a wince when he used the nickname that Harry had always called her.

"Hermione sent me," she said.

"Why? Isn't she some bigwig now?"

"Exactly. It's why she couldn't come herself, even though she wanted to. Couldn't send Ron either. It'd look bad. Guess I drew the short straw." Her teasing eased the tension in the room a bit. She and Dean had always gotten along.

"What was so important that she needed to send anyone at all?" Dean asked. Had wizards already found out about their mother returning?

"She briefed on a disciplinary matter that involved Sam and she was very worried. We all were. Is he alright?" Ginny turned to Dean.

Sam huffed. "I already told you…"

"Not any worse than usual," Dean answered, amused. This was not unlike the conversations that the two of them had had regarding Harry.

"He was tortured! What is wrong with you Winchesters?" She felt like she was going crazy. She knew that their lives were difficult, but Hermione had described the footage. As best she could, at least, because she had found it so disturbing that she had had to look away.

Dean blinked. "This is about that British bitch?"

"It was weeks ago," Sam argued.

"We just found out a couple of days ago. I'm sorry it took so long. Do you need healing? It's not my strongest suit, but I could probably help."

"No. Cas got me."

"Castiel?" Her tone was not friendly.

Dean and Sam looked down.

"I didn't know you two were still in contact with him." She tried to keep her voice neutral, but it wasn't working. Both men could tell she was pissed.

"So, what if we are?" Sam asked, unhappy with this intrusion. Who was she to not contact him in years other than brief phone calls and then drop back in his life as if she cared?

"Sam!" Dean reprimanded. He didn't know what was happening between the witch and his brother but he planned to get to the bottom of it later.

"He's an angel, he's helpful."

"He killed Harry!" She said forcefully.

"He, uh, wasn't himself when he did that," Dean defended weakly. He still didn't feel great about that. But Cas was...Cas. "And he would reverse it if he could."

"Well, he can't, can he?" Ginny asked.

"No," Sam said softly. He understood why Ginny was pissed.

Ginny shook her head. "Look, I came here to make sure that Sam was alright and to warn you."

"Warn us?"

"Yeah. These Men of Letters - they are bad news. Hermione didn't want them here at all, but MACUSA was insistent and politically speaking, it was her best move. She didn't think that they would be able to come near the two of you. Clearly, she overestimated your abilities to stay out of trouble."

"Hey! She came and kidnapped me," Sam defended. "And, maybe, if you had told me the truth when I was at Hogwarts, we could have avoided this altogether."

"Sam - we were trying to protect you!"

"I don't need protection!"

"Woah, woah, let's all calm down," Dean said, his eyes darting between the two of them going back and forth. And as amusing as it was watching this little woman take on his gigantic brother, there were more pressing matters at hand. "Am I understanding right? These dickbags are part of the Ministry of Magic?"

Ginny tore her eyes away from Sam. "Yes. The Men of Letters are jointly supervised by the muggle British government and the Ministry of Magic."

"Why are they here then?"

"This is all highly classified, of course," Ginny prefaced while the brothers rolled their eyes. "But Hermione wanted you to know. There was been a great deal of political pressure in the wizarding world over all of these...supernatural events of the last couple of years. MACUSA has decided that they want to bring American hunters back under their wing."

Dean snorted.

"Yeah, I thought the same thing," Ginny said, giving him a tiny smile. "But the Men of Letters here also used to be under wizarding jurisdiction. Something happened in the 30s that changed that - I don't really know the history. But all contact was cut off. They tried to re-establish ties in the 50s, but…"

"The Men of Letters were wiped out," Sam finished for her.

"Yeah. Look, just keep your heads down, alright? Hermione's going to try and work diplomatic avenues to get them out. But she has to do so without creating an international incident, which is why she sent me and not someone who works for her or who she's married to." Of course, Hermione was the one who was trying to fix the problem legally. Ginny didn't want to reveal the work that Ron was doing under all of their noses.

"So, she wants us to just sit on our hands like good little boys while she takes care of it?" Sam asked sharply.

"Sam…" Ginny said pleadingly.

"No, this was the problem in the first place. You never treated me like an equal - like a grownup who would handle these sorts of situations. I've been a hunter for a long time, Ginny. I've gone up against Lucifer himself. I can handle some British assholes."

"I know you can handle them, Sam. But you shouldn't have to. This isn't your problem or your world."

Fire shot out of Sam's eyes. "It is my world. Not just because I'm a wizard. But also, because those sons-of-bitches kidnapped and tortured me."

Ginny wasn't backing down. "And how would knowing about the Men of Letters from your time at Hogwarts have changed that? Look, Sam, I'm sorry this happened. And I'm sorry that I'm the one that Hermione sent. I told her that George would be better. Or anyone, really, but I was the only one who was able to drop everything to come and warn you."

"And that's the other thing - you've been avoiding me for years. What the hell, Ginny?"

"You left!"

"You pushed me to leave."

The two of them were slowly getting closer and closer together. They were now standing toe-to-toe. To Dean it looked like they were about to...oh shit, he realized. "Did you two bang?" He blurted out, tactful as always.

Sam and Ginny looked up at him, noticed how close they were, and both shot back as if someone had physically pushed them apart.

That confirmed it with Dean. He felt a little sick. "Really, Sam? Harry's girlfriend? Not cool, dude."

"That's not - we're not…" Sam stammered.

"Harry's gone and I was not then nor am I now his property," Ginny rounded on Dean now, directing all her anger from earlier onto the elder Winchester. "What Sam and I did or did not do is none of your bloody business."

Dean held his hands up in surrender, slightly frightened by the fierceness of Ginny's stance and words. He knew that she was not a woman to take lightly.

"It's over anyway," Sam said bitterly.

"Only because you ended it," Ginny said back, but the anger had bled out of her voice.

"Ginny…"

"No. This was a mistake. I should go. I've warned you. Stay away from the Men of Letters. Try to avoid getting their attention. Hermione's working on her end of things to bring an end to their mission here. It might take her some time."

She turned to leave. Sam slumped down in a chair. Dean spent a moment looking between Ginny's retreating back and Sam's sad puppy eyes before going after the witch. "Ginny, wait!" He called as he bounded up the stairs. He caught her just outside the door.

She turned to face him - tears in her eyes. Dean immediately regretted going after her. He wasn't good with anyone crying, but especially not women.

"What, Dean?"

"I, uh, just didn't want to leave it that way," he said lamely. "Sam didn't...he didn't say anything about the two of you. I didn't know and was surprised. Actually, I didn't find out about the whole Hogwarts thing until...well, it doesn't matter."

Ginny laughed a little through her tears. "Yeah, that doesn't surprise me. And for the record, almost no one knows about Sam and I. Luna, Hermione, and my mum. That's it. Don't you dare tell anyone else."

"Oh, don't worry, I would really prefer not to think of you and my brother doing…" he hesitated a second, gauged Ginny's look, and looked down, "doing anything. But I wanted to ask a favor since you're here."

She inclined her head to encourage him to continue.

"Could we get another one of those credit cards?" It hurt him to ask. He didn't like taking his dead brother's money, but after it had become clear that Harry's friends were going to get it to him one way or another (rigging his poker games, ensuring he won at pool or picking up the tab on any new credit card scams) he had given up.

"Is there something wrong with the ones that you have?"

"No. No - there's just someone I'd like to give one to."

"Not Castiel," she said sharply.

Dean looked surprised. "No. No, Cas doesn't need a credit card. He can just perform a miracle."

Ginny did not look amused.

"No. This is...a friend. Family." He wasn't sure why, but he didn't want Ginny, or rather, Hermione, to know about his mother.

She nodded. "Alright. Yeah, I'll talk with Percy, he manages Harry's estate. Since we dissolved the group here to found Luna's research group, he's the one who can get it to you. You want it to be the same as the others?"

The credit cards they currently carried magically changed names based on what their IDs said. They just had to hold the card, say the name, and the name and number would change. It made their lives way easier.

"Yeah. Thanks, Ginny."

"It's not a problem. Er - is he really alright?"

Dean couldn't help but smile a little at that. Ginny truly cared about Sam. "He's had worse."

"I hate that."

"I know. Me too."

She cracked a small smile at. "Take care, Dean. Call if you need anything. Sam has my number."

"Sure thing."

They exchanged hugs and she apparated away.

Dean went back into the Bunker where Sam was nursing a beer and looking appropriately ashamed of himself.

"So, Sam," Dean said as he flopped down in the chair in front of his brother.

"What, Dean?" He snapped, knowing that this couldn't be good.

"I gotta know…" Dean paused.

"Know what?" Sam asked impatiently.

"Was that your first time? Was she gentle?" He asked with a shit-eating grin.

Sam gave him a disgusted look as he stood up.

"I was just askin'! Did she make the bed all pretty with rose petals and light candles? Was there snuggling involved?"

Sam gave him one last dirty look before storming out of the room. "Jerk," he muttered as he walked out.

"Bitch!" Dean called after him, smirking. He noticed that Sam had left his beer, 'jackpot,' he thought as he took it and downed the rest.

III

Being King of Hell sounded like a glamourous job. It's why he had to fight so hard for his position and why he knew he could never truly rest easy. Not even when he had used the Winchesters to get rid of Abaddon. Not even when he had built the perfect cage to hold and destroy Lucifer. Once he caught up with the Devil, of course.

But Crowley knew better. Being King of Hell was work. It wasn't just sitting on a throne and holding court. Or fun things like negotiating contracts and overseeing torture. It was having eyes everywhere. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory, Limbo. All the realms. Not to mention understanding the political systems of monsters and men alike.

It was quite the time to be occupying a meat suit on Earth.

Crowley prided himself on having a finger in every pie. (Thinking of pie made him yearn for his days of running around with Dean Winchester – what a simpler time that had been.)

Now that Amara had been taken care of, many of his underlings were trembling, trying to figure out what was coming next.

Crowley didn't have any power of prophetic sight but he could see the winds and how they were shifting. Soon enough, he, Wings, Moose, and Squirrel would get that situation under control. He was thinking about what would come after they had subjugated Lucifer.

Asmodeus was working on a very interesting project that he was keeping a close watch on. The other Princes of Hell had been dormant for too long. He expected that boredom would lead to some intrigue from Ramiel, or, more likely, Dagon, soon.

"Crowley, are you even listening to me?" Castiel growled in his annoyingly deep voice. Their odd-couple duo had reunited for the task of tracking down the washed-up musician that now housed the Devil.

"Of course, feathers. I've got contacts all over this industry. We'll find him."

For now, he had to focus on the task at hand. But he had a feeling that things would get fun soon.

III

Mary was hit with a strange sense of deja-vu. She had been feeling ever since she had written down the name – Missouri Moseley. But as she stood before a white door, she felt – no, she knew that she had been here before. The door opened.

"Mary?" The woman asked. "Mary Winchester?" She pulled Mary into a hug. "I didn't see you coming. But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, no one can surprise me like you Winchesters. Please, come in."

"I'm sorry, have we met before?" Mary asked as she entered the house.

"Oh yes. We're old friends, you and I. I knew your husband too, John was a good man. Your sons are even better."

"You know Sam and Dean?" None of this was what she had been expecting.

"I do. We haven't spoken in years, of course, they have far bigger things to worry about than little ole me, but they are fine boys."

"I didn't come here about them," Mary said.

"Oh, I know sweetie. You came for the same one that you did the last time. Your middle boy, Henry."

Mary froze. "Henry?"

"Yes. That's what he was named." Of course, Missouri knew that she was only sharing a half-truth. But she felt that he would have wanted his mother to know him by his Winchester name.

Mary felt like if she were the sort of woman to faint with shock, she would be passed out on the floor in this moment. But that wasn't who she was.

"How do you know that? Is he alright? Where is he?" The desperation in her voice was difficult to hear. Especially with the news that Missouri was about to give her.

"I have the Sight. You knew that once. But, sweetie, there isn't a witch or wizard in the world who doesn't know your boy's name."

Something about that struck Mary. "Destiny. I've...been here before. You told me that he had a destiny."

"I did. Your memories were taken. And he fulfilled that destiny, the number of people he saved. Well, practically the whole world."

"Someone took my memories?"

"Yes. You felt it. You followed your instincts and you're here now. You know, your husband was a good Hunter, but you were a great one. Your boys get it far more from you than from him."

"Have you met him? Can you put us in touch? I just want to hold him. I don't care what age he is. I never even got to hold him. Not really." Mary could feel the desperation take over her whole body. Years of waiting, of longing, of missing.

Missouri looked at Mary sadly. "I'm sorry, sweetie, this is hard to hear…"

"No," she said, hysterically, knowing, deep in her gut, what this psychic was about to tell her. "No, please don't tell me."

"I can only imagine your pain. Your Henry - he passed. About five years ago."

That did it. Mary dissolved into tears. Great big sobs. It wasn't just grief for her baby, the one that she had never gotten to know. Would never get to know. But also, the tears she hadn't allowed herself over John. The tears that she didn't want Sam and Dean to see over the loss of her baby boys. All of it. 'Why am I even here?' She asked herself.

"Oh, honey, I don't know why you're back, but I imagine it's because your boys need you."

"They don't! They're grown. How can I be a mother to two men who have been through so much? They've been without me their whole lives. They don't need me now."

"You listen here, Mary Winchester, those boys need you. But more importantly, they want you. You've been missing from them their whole lives. And they don't blame you, but they love you. You don't stop being a mother because your children are grown."

Missouri had moved to sit next to her on the couch and was now rubbing circles on her back. Mary's sobs were beginning to die down and she just felt - tired.

"H-how how did he die?" She stammered.

"He died a hero. Sacrificed himself for the world. The world is a better place for his death."

That didn't make things easier for Mary. "Why him?"

"Why anyone? But, Mary, know this. His life wasn't easy. It was never going to be. But he was filled with love. And was loved by many. Still is. Love defined him. You should feel nothing but pride in him."

Mary would prefer for him to be the worst person in the world but still alive.

"You know that ain't true. Of course, you want him here. But, Mary, you have your boys. Henry - he grew up an orphan. He would want you to be with them. I didn't know him personally, we never had the pleasure of meeting, but I do know that family was the most important thing to him."

Mary took a deep breath.

"That's right, honey, breathe. You're exhausted. You know - I have a nice guest room. Why don't you stay the night here? I'll watch over you. I can even call those boys of yours if you'd like. They'd be here in a second."

"I can't put you out," Mary protested.

"Nonsense. And no need to play this game with me. I'm psychic, remember. I know that you'll stay."

There was no arguing with that. "Don't call my boys," Mary insisted.

Missouri sighed. "I won't if you don't want me to. But they'd help. I know they would."

"I know. Just - I didn't tell them about any of this. No need to add another person for them to mourn. I - I'll get my act together. Go to the Bunker."

"We can discuss this more in the morning. Tomorrow's a new day. Up the stairs, first door on the right."

Mary nodded miserably and made her way up the stairs. She was out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Missouri sat down heavily. She saw what was going to happen next. In the morning, Mary would leave as soon as possible. Missouri would offer to restore her memories, but the woman would refuse, thinking that it would hurt more than it would help. And she wouldn't be wrong. It would hurt, but it would help her heal. However, Missouri wasn't in the business of making people's choices for them. Like all Winchesters, Mary was going to choose the difficult path. Missouri just hoped it ended better than what she saw.

III

The sun going dark was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back on a long line of incidents that made the British Chapter of the Men of Letters take an interest in just what was happening in the United States.

While they generally tried to keep their eyes on what was happening globally, the increased amount of demonic activity had caught their attention.

To add to the intrigue Harry Potter, God-like in the eyes of the British wizarding public had gotten involved with the two Hunters that seemed to be at the center of it all – Sam and Dean Winchester.

His brothers – supposedly. That claim was unsubstantiated by their own fact-checkers, but there was enough muck in the water to make them consider it more or less a fact.

Of course, they couldn't act without the permission of the British Ministry of Magic. And Harry Potter had had them in a headlock. The years that he had been Head Auror he had nearly brought an end to the organization.

But, unlike him, the Men of Letters, stood the test of time. They watched and they waited until it was time to strike.

Through some well-stoked flames, the political climates of the United States and Great Britain demanded that something be done about the muggles who thought they could overthrow the entire balance of the universe. It was shaking the magical community at its core and the Men of Letters were more than happy to step up and help out.

Anything for Crown and Country, of course. Their good friends, the Americans, needed their help? MACUSA was begging to get some real professionals in? Yes. Of course, they were happy to oblige.

They would sacrifice their time. They would use all of their vast resources. They would deploy their best agents.

And, in the end, they would bring the Hunting community in the United States to its knees – ready to do their bidding.

After that, they had bigger plans. But first things first. It was time to assemble a team and send them off.

MACUSA would never know what hit them.

Once they got the American magical community under their control they would turn back home, triumphant. And the era of wizards lording over them would be over. For good.

III

"Aah!" Cas called out. His vision went blurry and his hands started to shake so badly that he dropped the two cups of coffee that he had in his hands. He grabbed his head with one hand and used the other to stay upright.

"Cas?" Dean asked, running over, Sam hot on his heels. "Cas? Hey?"

"Something's happened. Something…Angel radio…there are so many voices."

"What are they saying?" Sam asked.

"There's been a massive surge in celestial energy. A Nephilim has come into being."

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"It's the offspring of an angel and a human," Cas explained.

"And that's big news?" Dean asked.

"Yes, but the power to produce this is immense. It's much, much greater than a typical angel."

Something clicked for Sam. "Lucifer," he said with dread.

"Wha – Lucifer?" Dean said, slow on the uptake. "I didn't know he was dating."

AN – Happy Friday! It feels so good to be posting again. This week's chapter covers a lot of ground. I know that some people may have not made it to Season 12 – are the episode titles helpful enough, or should I put short plot summaries of episodes in the AN? I'm trying to keep AN shorter in this story, but if that's what y'all need, I'm happy to oblige. Also, I do plan on veering off-canon far more with this story than I have in the past, so don't worry too much if you haven't seen this season.

Reminder - on ff dot net, I put review responses in my profile. (But I'm a little behind at the moment - I will have them updated tonight.)

Thank yous – to everyone who have interacted with this story. I am so happy that I didn't lose you in between stories and I appreciate you all so much. Also, a reoccurring thank you to the lovely humans in my Discord servers. In this chapter, we would not have had the post-Ginny leaving conversation between Sam and Dean which I love so much.

I promise, next week, we'll finally get to Harry. I can't wait for y'all to see what I have in store for him.