Last time...

"I'm not a crossroads demon, John." She reminded him with a sigh. "I want you to keep doing what you're doing; protect and support your family. Gringotts hires Hunters all the time to take care of the kinds of things you do already. They might reach out from time to time with a job offer, but for the most part you pick the jobs as normal, and the only thing that changes is the fact that you get paid."

"And my children?"

"Sponsored through whatever program they choose, offered pay the same as you." Potter assured him.

He thought about it, he did. If he passed this up, he could be giving up the opportunity to help Sam, and all to assuage his own pride. No matter how long he looked or how hard he searched, he knew he'd never find as good of an opportunity as the one she was handing him right now. Whoever or whatever had set this girl on his path knew what he knew, and what would happen to Sam if nothing was done. They sent this girl to him knowing this was his best chance.

John found himself nodding before the words were even out of his mouth. "Alright, I'll go with you to this…Gringotts, get everything set up and explained to me – because I have a feeling there's a lot going on here that I don't know, and I hate not knowing things – and then after that…I want to see how you handle a rugaru."

Chapter 123

#3

While the summer had only really just started, Hermione was already looking forward to the trip to the United States. She'd been discussing it with her parents, and they wanted to come along. They were more than a little alarmed at how she'd immediately started planning first aid kits for them, but there'd been something to Luna's warning. The Addams family cherished life, and there was no better way to do that then by respecting death; as she'd put it, 'they do their own stunts'. She wasn't expecting the house phone to ring, but paused in her packing to answer it.

"Hello? Granger residence."

"Oh, hey, Hermione! I'm glad I caught you!" Came Hera's rather winded reply. "Thought you'd be living it up in Bulgaria already."

"We've only just got back from everything with the Ministry, Hera. We'll be leaving for Bulgaria soon enough." Hermione answered easily, used to her friend's teasing by now. "Where are you?"

"Somewhere in the arsehole of Georgia." Hera huffed in misery; there were more of those popping sounds in the background, and Hermione slowly realized what they must be. "It's so bloody hot here, Hermione. Who lives like this?"

"Georgia?…" Hermione's mind boggled at the news. "How? Why?!"

"Long story short? Got asked for help, somehow popped over across the pond in several places at once, and am currently on a hunt with a possible future ally." Hera explained quickly. "What do you know of rugaru? The information we have doesn't seem to be up to snuff."

"Rugaru?" Hermione repeated in alarmed. What she could vaguely remember about the creatures was not good. "Hera…are those gunshots?!"

"In my defence, the challenge was his idea." Hera stated with a determined air. "Someone thought it would be a good idea to place limitations as a bet to prove I can hunt without magic, and I intend to win even if it kills me."

"Don't let your brother hear you say that." Hermione snorted, already tapping her wand to open her trunk to the expanded library compartment. "I'm searching for the information now. How's Tony handling you being suddenly state side?"

"Not good." Hera admitted. "He's worried about me, but tried to disguise it by reminding me that I'm grounded."

"Sounds like him." Hermione agreed with fondness, her eyes skimming the information she read until she found what she was looking for. "Alright, I've got it. Rugaru or Rougarou can outwardly appear human for many years, likely never knowing its true nature, but eventually it becomes consumed with a terrible hunger. During this time, it feeds on any meat it can get its hands on, until it eventually gives in to the craving for human flesh. They will demonstrate superhuman strength and senses, and their bones will move under their skin. One bite of a human's flesh is all that is necessary for a rugaru to transform outwardly into a monster, at which point it can never appear or be human again. The only ways to kill it are to cause a severe cranial injury or set it on fire, otherwise it will continue killing people to sate its hunger. There's a theory that they can live their entire lives without giving in to the hunger, but no proof to support it."

"So shoot them in the brain or set them on fire?" Hera repeated in exasperation. "That's it? That's all we've been doing!"

"How did you even get a gun?" Hermione questioned. "Was it the American?"

"Nope. Stole it," Hera admitted; more popping sounds in the background. "from Arthur."

"Why would Mr. Weasley have a gun?" Hermione asked, her heart dropping into her stomach at the idea of Mr Weasley having an accident while trying to figure out how the gun 'worked'.

"Likely didn't know what it was. Maybe he did though? I haven't asked. Found it in his office when we went to visit ages ago." Hera revealed. "There was a spell on it to cause bullets to either be summoned into it or for it to create them somehow."

John watched as Hera Potter burned the bodies in a magically contained fire before vanishing the ashes. While he was still coming to terms with natural born witches existing and being organized, even after everything he'd signed up for, seeing it was something else altogether. The trip itself had been informative to say the least, and he was happy to know the future for his sons had changed. The challenge had been a spontaneous one, wanting to know if she could handle herself against the kinds of things he dealt with on the daily. He'd not expected her to wiggle out of it like she had.

"You cheated." John commented, once they'd made it to the car.

"How so?" Hera argued. "You said I couldn't use magic. You didn't say I couldn't use a weapon imbued with it. Considering that your original bet only involved only one rugaru, instead of several many of them, I think I stuck to the terms of the bet rather well. Maybe next time you'll choose your words more carefully when making bets with the god of lies. Bit callous to be betting on lives like that anyway."

John could only look at her in shock and disbelief at being scolded by someone half his age or more.

"So…why did you grow a forest where they'd died?" John inquired, deciding to leave the bet alone.

"Besides more trees always being a good idea?" Hera reposed, shrugging when John nodded. "I dunno. Felt right."

"You don't think people are going to notice a bunch of extra trees?" He countered.

"In the middle of the forest near the arse end of the Appalachian Mountains?" Hera returned, eye brow raised. "These mountains are old and should be respected, filled with stories of cryptids and the like. Even if people notice, they won't say anything. At that last stop, an elderly lady warned me not to go in the woods alone. Said if I heard a woman or child crying at night, no I didn't; warned that there were things in these woods that couldn't be explained with rational means, and that it was best not to go looking."

"Point." John begrudgingly acknowledged, but sharpened his gaze when she tensed. "What?"

"Your eldest is about to do something stupid." Hera declared, before she and the bike vanished in a blink.

John could only stare blankly at the spot for a moment before deciding to see how much Bobby knew about everything he'd just learned. His children would be fine, more so if that girl was looking out for them so directly at the moment. He could afford to take his time, and seek out information from his friend. Maybe Bobby would know just who that girl was. Maybe John could introduce the man to fire whiskey; that could be fun.

#2

"Hera?" Sam called, catching her attention. "What's wrong?"

"Do you trust me?" Hera asked him, immediately raising his concerns all the more.

"I mean…You've been here a couple days, and haven't hurt me. You've even taught me a little magic…I think I can trust you." Sam listed, teasing her in the hopes that it eased the worry he could see in her eyes, though still worried himself. "What's wrong?"

"I'm going to have to rejoin myself soon to go after your brother. He's about to do something stupid." Hera announced, standing up and making her way to the door. "Don't worry though, I'm almost back with more groceries."

She disappeared in before his eyes, and he hadn't even had the time to blink before she did it, before he was distracted by a knock at the door. While Sam had been able to absorb a lot over the last couple of days, he was still only twelve. He had a hard time believing that she'd been grocery shopping at the same time she was talking to him and hunting with his father. He looked through the curtains, only to be shocked again; She'd been telling the truth! Sam quickly flung the door open, seeing her wide grin as she held up various bags.

"You've got to show me how you do that!"

#1

Dean had been trying to get into the building he'd lost all their money in, not sure what else to do. He'd not been able to face his little brother yet, not knowing that he'd lost all their grocery money, and then there'd been what that witch had told him. There were those that were natural born witches, and Sam was one? Dean didn't know what to think about that, and desperately wished his dad were there to help. So he decided to tackle the one problem he thought he could handle on his own, trying to get the money back, but he'd not been able to get in.

"Look, Punk, there's already a game." The guy at the door stated as he sneered at him. "Go back home, and try again when you've actually grown a pair."

Dean wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but he prepared for a fight nonetheless. The bouncer certainly seemed to be ready for one. Neither expected for the door to open behind the man, or for the whispered conversation that followed. The bouncer, a man that towered over Dean, glared back at him with suspicion before turning back slightly to the man behind the door. A final glare at Dean, and then the man stepped aside to allow him entry.

He didn't know what could have possibly changed, but Dean eyed the man as he passed with a confusion he couldn't quite hide. Inside was the same seedy place he'd expected, dimly lit, with a hint of cigar smoke and whisky in the air. He stopped at the sight that met him at the poker table. The girl that had saved him from being arrested in the grocery store was sitting at the back of the room, fully immersed in a game; and while he could tell she wasn't winning yet, she certainly wasn't losing either.

"I couldn't help it!" The girl – Hera – continued on, clearly immersed in the story she was telling, much to the amusement and uproarious laughter from the other players. It was only then that she saw him, and her smile brightened. "Dean!"

"You fellas mind if I talk to my friend for a minute?" Dean asked, nodding to them, though a bit on edge.

A couple of them smirked like they knew where this was going, but they began talking amongst themselves to give them the illusion of privacy. Minutely, he noticed Hera slowly rotate a coin on the table, spinning it by the edge.

"Well, now that they're under the impression that you own me, what?" Hera demanded, glaring at him. He tried to shush her, but she scoffed. "They can't hear us, Dumb-arse. They think we're having a whispered argument."

"This is hardly whispering, Hera." Dean felt the need to point out.

"Yeah. Amazing what magic can do, isn't it." She retorted, scathingly. Oh, right. "Now, what do you want?"

"Do you realize who these men are? What they do?" Dean demanded, choosing to forge ahead. "Hera, this is dangerous."

"Really?" She asked, leaning onto her elbow as she held herself head in hand, looking at him with comically wide eyes. "I had no idea."

"What I did was stupid, okay? But there's no reason you need to make my mistake." He tried, hoping this time it would sink in. "We can go. It's just money. It's not worth risking your life for."

"You're trying to help me." Hera realized, but she was relaxed in a way he didn't think she should in such a dangerous situation. "Dean, you don't need to worry. I've got this."

She rotated the coin on the table before he could fully reply.

"Hera, this is-"

"Are you two done over there?" One of the men – Randy, if Dean remembered correctly – interjected, and Dean realized they were no longer safe to speak as they had been.

"Yeah, sorry, Dean's a worrier. I've told him it's okay." Hera insisted, easing back into the game. "Besides, it's not like you lot can cheat worth a damn."

They were objecting, clearly insulted at her declaration, each trying to talk over the other.

Hera snapped her finger and pointed, starting with the one to her right, the one sitting closest to Dean. "Has been bluffing this whole time, and probably owes someone even more dangerous than you a lot of money." Next person. "Has an extra ace up his right – sorry, my right – sleeve; spades, if I'm not mistaken." Next person. "Hasn't even been subtle about trying to look at my cards. All of you have obvious tells, your poker faces are terrible, and none of you can lie for shite."

Dean couldn't believe his ears. He'd played against these men, and hadn't been able to get a read on any of them. It was why he'd lost all his money, after all. The men all looked astonished and more than a little angry, but Hera only arched her eyebrow as she stared down the man she'd accused of having an extra card up his sleeve. The man in question just stared at her in return, before relaxing as he pulled a card out of his left sleeve; an ace of spades.

"So you got lucky, Kid." Jim, he thinks the man's name is, commented. "You think you're going to win because you're so observant?"

"Hardly." Hera snorted, then leveled the man with a look. "I already have."

She was bluffing. She had to be bluffing.

"The hell you ha-"

"I'm going to be generous, and give you a choice. Either you can give back the money Dean unwisely gambled away, or I can take it from you myself. You decide." Hera offered, leaning in just a little. "It makes no never mind to me which one you chose, but we will be leaving here with that money regardless."

"Who do you think you are, you little upstart bi-"

"I see you've decided then." She noted calmly, her lips stretching into a slightly feral grin, before flicking a playing card across the table.

Hera disappeared before the thing made it halfway across, before anyone could even blink. She quickly appeared behind Jim, reached around to grab him by the face, and slammed the man's head into the wall behind him. It was pandemonium after that, and Dean couldn't be bothered to care that Jim hadn't gotten back up. One of the more burly ones came after him, but he quickly grabbed a glass bottle and tried to shatter it across the man's head. It must have been one of the old style ones, because he knocked the man out cold with it and didn't even crack the glass.

Randy managed to grab Hera's arm, but she just dropped like a stone, twisted just enough to link her feet behind his head, and used the momentum to fling the guy to the ground hard. The man doesn't get back up. It didn't stop one of the others from going for his gun, but Dean stopped that by flinging the bottle at the guy's skull. It hit with a sickening crack, causing the man to crumple and fall to the ground. Only one man remained standing, closer to Dean than Hera, and it was clear which one he'd attack first. He wasn't expecting her to just reach out and gesture as if to hold the air, nor was he expecting for the man to seize up as if being held by the throat; clawing at a hand that wasn't there.

"What?" Hera objected, seeing his incredulous stare.

"Star Wars much?" Dean inquired, gesturing between her and the man.

"My brother insisted I watch all the movies when I told him I hadn't seen them! He's a huge fan." She admitted with a blush. "Besides, it's working, isn't it?!"

"…Uh…What exactly are you waiting for though?" Dean wondered, his eyes wandering back to the guy who'd been about to attack him.

It didn't take long for the man to turn purple and pass out, which was when Hera let go of the 'force hold' she'd had on him, and the guy fell to the floor with a loud thud.

"That. I was waiting for that." Hera replied with a shrug as she began riffling through the pockets of the men who'd attacked them. "Don't worry, they aren't dead, but we should probably get this part over with before they wake up again. They don't know where you're staying, do they?"

"No, I…I never told them that, and they'd have left a card or something if they'd wanted me to know they were following me. I lost to them pretty badly before." Dean mumbled distractedly as he watched her. "What are you doing?"

"Getting your money back." Hera reminded him. "I thought I'd said that."

"What about what they saw you do?" Dean wondered.

"Unfortunately, situations like this are why I claimed 'mutant' status." Hera acknowledged, as she continued. "Anything they see me do, especially without a wand or the like, they'll assume it's a mutant ability. I try to limit that though, because it's only a matter of time before someone thinks I've 'overstepped' my bounds, and I end up pissing off the actual mutants or ending up in a government facility somewhere."

A few minutes later she tossed a bundle of money at him that was way more than he'd lost, but she looked like she knew that already, choosing instead to look at the cards that had been Jim's.

"Damn it." She swore under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

"What is it?"

"He'd have beaten me, actually beaten me, without cheating or anything, and he still chose to hide an ace up his sleeve." She snorted. "The idiot."

They're walking back to the hotel when Dean sighs audibly again, and Hera can't take it anymore.

"Alright, out with it." She wheedled. "What's going on in that brain of yours, Dean?"

"You said Sammie's magic, like you?" Dean began. Hera nodded, and his face scrunched up in concentration as he thought on his words. "Listen, I…I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean-"

"You meant every word, and don't go pretending that you didn't, Dean Winchester." Hera scolded, though there was no anger in it. "It's nothing I've not heard before. At least you were actually doing what you thought would protect your brother, unlike those sorry louts."

"But if he's like you, and I said that about you then I said it about him, and I…He's my brother."

"Things have been happening around him for some time now. He's been worried what you'd think if you knew." Hera revealed, and Dean looked like he was in pain. "Your dad already knows. There's a wizarding school you could all go to, different programs to help both wixen like your brother and non-magical hunters like you and your father, supported by a goblin run bank. I helped him set up an account there; agreed to sponsor you all, should you choose. He'll explain it better, the goblins gave him informative pamphlets and everything. Incidentally, I'm not sure what a 'Man of Letters' is, but that'd be more your father's department than mine."

"So you weren't kidding about the whole multiple places at once thing?" Dean asked, his eyes widening at the information. She only smiled slightly in response. "What's Sammie doing right now?"

"Eating biscuits for dinner." Hera answered promptly, though the slight up-tick of her lips betrayed her.

"Why do I get the feeling biscuits mean something else over there in ye old England?" Dean questioned, not fooled in the slightest when Hera widened her eyes in mock innocence.

"Why don't you open the door and find out?" She challenged, before disappearing.

…

He hadn't expected her to just disappear like that, and had to blink rapidly before his eyes would accept the fact that she just wasn't there anymore, but when he opened the door he got another surprise. Hera and Sammie were eating cookies, not biscuits. He'd known there was another word for those things, and with it being as late as it was, Sammie was likely to be keyed up as well. The matching manic grins on both their faces only confirmed that theory, and when the two looked back at each other, they started gigging like loons. Dean just closed and locked the door behind him, sat down at the table with them, and stole a cookie from Hera's plate. Her surprised face as he held it up was totally worth it.

"This is not a biscuit." Dean insisted. "This is a cookie."

"Just wait till he sees what you can do with pie." Sam snickered, relaxing even more. It hadn't escaped Dean's notice that his brother had looked a little tense upon seeing him.

The statement caught Dean's attention, and he couldn't help himself.

"Wait, there's pie?"

Tony had been a nervous wreck, waiting for Hera to come back. He didn't know what she was doing, and Jarvis could only tell him so much. She'd tried calling again, explaining that at least one of her selves was fine and watching over a child. She hadn't told him what the other of her selves were doing, and he knew there to be at least three of them. Jarvis had confirmed three signatures with the phone he'd given her, so it would seem that anything she had would be replicated as well.

He was not expecting for her to appear before him. Her eyes looked unfocused, and she all but collided with him when he pulled her into a hug. Tony decided that he didn't care where she'd been, only that she was back. They stayed like that for a good while, and if anyone had a problem with it they weren't saying. Finally, after he felt calm enough, he pulled away to look at her.

"So, what did Sky-Daddy want?" He asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

She snorted, shocked, and then started laughing. "Tony, that's awful! You shouldn't!"

"So gonna, forever." He insisted, grinning just a touch before it fell. "I was worried about you."

"Is it weird that I'm still getting used to someone worrying over me?" Hera wondered. "In my last life, only his mother really worried for him. It's why he threw himself into every fight the way he did, and…I mean, my friends worry, but they're kinda pushy about it? I didn't know what to do with that, and the wizarding world in general seemed to approve of my recklessness, so…That you worry…that you don't want me to do the reckless things even though you know I'll be alright…It's nice. Is it weird that it's nice?"

He didn't respond with words at first, choosing to pull her into a hug again, trying to give himself time to process everything she'd just said to him. "We're both a little messed up, huh?"

"Maybe a bit." Hera admitted, and he could hear the grin in her voice now. "Snape wants me to try therapy."

Tony made a face at that, not that she saw it. "Can't we just exist as the disasters we are?"

"You don't have to go, you know." Hera pointed out, backing away a little to look up at him. "He just recommended it for me. I still don't know how I feel about it. Maybe it won't be so bad. If the Dursleys thought it was rubbish, surely it's worth at least a chance. Right?"

"Fair, but I can't exactly insist you go if I ignore the glaring neon signs that are my own problems. That wouldn't be very brotherly." Tony insisted, grimacing as he thought about it. "Ugh, therapy."

"I wasn't exactly thrilled when he suggested it either." Hera commented, amused. "Tried to bully him into being my therapist instead of looking for someone."

"We'll figure it out, but for now…Tell me what happened while you were gone?" Tony suggested, as he guided her to one of the settees. "The others will be up soon, and then we can decide where to go from there, but for now we can wait. Story time?"

"Sure thing, Broðir, and after that you can tell me the terms of my grounding." Hera agreed. "I don't think I've ever been properly grounded before, not the way my friends describe as normal anyway."

Bobby Singer had been answering phone calls all day, impersonating various law enforcement as needed for some of the other Hunters. While most went roaming around hunting things, he liked to stay in one place. It allowed him the means to keep tabs on the comings and goings of things, research as he liked, and it didn't hurt that he was able to maintain a comfortable means of living either. Most people in the small part of Sioux Falls he lived in thought him a drunk; not that he tried to correct that. In fact, he collected the bottles of various hunters and had them 'on display' for whenever the local police came to call. People didn't look too closely at what the local drunk did, and that suited his purposes just fine.

However, he'd gotten an unusual call; well, unusual for him, at any rate. John Winchester had asked to stop by, which was hunter speak for 'can't talk about this over the phone'. While Bobby wasn't sure what the man wanted to talk about, he'd agreed that John could stop by. There'd been no hints, no clues, nothing. So when John finally showed up, it was a relief.

"'Bout time you got here, Idjit." Bobby declared, when he'd flung open the door. He hadn't even waited for the man to knock, having heard the impala drive up. "You can't just say things like that, and think I won't die from curiosity alone."

John silently chuckled, his shoulders shaking, before he shook his head and pulled a bottle of Fire Whiskey out from inside his coat.

Bobby sighed, knowing it was far too late to fake innocence. "Took you look enough. Come on in. I wanna hear how you stumbled onto that lot."

"I didn't." John admitted, following him back into the house. "One of them found me."

"Did you get a name?" Bobby wondered, bringing them into the kitchen; where he then proceeded to get glasses for the occasion.

"Hera Potter."

It was a good thing they hadn't even poured drinks yet, because that had him coughing in shock as it was. While Bobby wasn't magical like his parents had been, he'd kept up with the goings on in the hopes he could use it to help those he knew. It had become a vital resource when he'd taken up Hunting, and he was glad of it even now. The name Hera Potter had come up more than once, and many had had their expectations as to what she would be and do now that she was an active part of the magical world once more. She'd shaken things up in more ways than one, and it didn't look like that was going to be changing any time soon.

"I take it you know who she is." John surmised, taking to pouring their drinks himself.

"How do you?!" Bobby wondered, not denying it.

John only cracked a smile, sipping on his own glass as he replied. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."