Author's Note:
Major Story Announcement!
It has come to my attention that there might be the misconception that Jasmine and Harry are siblings. I cannot be more adamant that this is absolutely not the case. They are completely and totally unrelated. The only connection that they have is from growing in the same human oven for nine months and then living together for a while. They do not share any familial connection at all. They are completely separate genetically, magically, and spiritually. There is no sibling bond there.
The closest comparison that I can create is the cuckoo bird. It lays an egg in another bird's nest and has the other bird raise the cuckoo hatchling along with the other chicks. Harry was completely unconnected from the Potters except for the fact that he happened to gestate in Lily due to the deal James made. Just imagine him like a demonic cuckoo bird that Azazel slipped into Lily next to the growing Jasmine.
The only reason I even had this happen in the first place is because it was a convenient way to have Azazel show up and kick Voldemort's ass along with getting Harry to love with the Winchesters. I considered other ideas, but it was also a way to express my distaste for James Potter. He literally created the situation where Voldemort attacked them on Halloween. It would not have happened if he hadn't compulsively bullied Snape to a such a malicious degree and literally drove him towards the junior Death Eaters. I didn't feel he should be able to get off scot free, so that's where I got the idea for the whole demon deal. Apologies for my little rant.
I cannot stress this point enough because one of the most important goals of this story is to not have any of the weird romantic relationships between siblings that plague many Supernatural fanfics. I don't want any of you thinking that there is any of that stuff in here when I tried to make that distinction as much as possible without outright stating it.
End of Major Story Announcement
Now, onto the reviews:
To Devon18: I had so much trouble finding a single story worth a shit that didn't have relationships between the main guys that I decided I should just cut out the middle man and make one myself. I am glad to see someone else shares the same sentiment.
To darthjosh2112: Thanks for the story recommendations. As to who Harry will be paired with, let's just say that he definitely shares the same romantic luck with the other Winchester men. This will lead to the pairing shifting through the years at Hogwarts. Even I don't know the final destination. I guess we are just going to see together!
To TwinstarDragon: Please read the above announcement. He won't remember Jasmine, but they will have met before going to Hogwarts. More details in the chapter.
Additional thanks to Chi Vanye and Dundeenorton for the positive reviews. Glad to hear that you guys liked everything so far.
Anyway, onto the story!
--
(First year age at Hogwarts is aged up to 18.)
--
Chapter 1: A Shitty Start To The Semester
I walk down the length of the train, my eyes glancing into each compartment as I walk by. Part of me knows what I will find, but I can't help but put myself through it all the same. It is on the third section of the train that I catch what I am looking for out of the corner of my eye. A flash of reddish brown hair, a mix of her father's jet black and her mother's fiery red, catches my gaze and pulls it to my right.
It felt like a hand reached into my chest and squeezed my heart as I see her kissing a guy with light blue hair through the uncovered window of the compartment. I quickly avert my eyes and lock my gaze straight ahead as I immediately pick up the pace and make my way towards the end of the train. Yep, yet another terrible idea from the genius known as Harry Winchester. Not only does he have the IQ of a rock, but he is a glutton for punishment.
Stomaching the anger I feel bubbling up inside, I just focus on getting to where I am going. I don't want to wonder who I am really angry at, that guy or myself.
This train of thought was just going to spiral, so I cut it off as I finally exit the last door on the caboose and step out onto the small section that hangs out over the rattling train tracks unfolding behind us. I lean against the chest high railing closing off the edge and let out a deep breath as I watch the steel rails and wooden planks that race away from us and try to clear my head.
Upon coming up short on that front after a few minutes, I pull out a pack of cigarettes from my jacket before plucking one from the packaging. I flip open my lighter and strike the flint, only for it to fail to ignite. I strike it a dozen times, yet it comes up empty each time as it refuses to light. Whether it's for burning a ghost's mortal remains or lighting a cigarette, Winchesters will always have trouble with their lighters.
Giving up on the metal lighter, I toss it back into my pocket before snapping my fingers. A small orange flame flickers to life on the top of my finger where it dances in the breeze. I press the flame against the tip of the cigarette while taking a deep inhale to make the fire catch. Within a moment, I am rewarded with the disgusting and comforting taste of noxious smoke that fills my lungs. I shake my hand to make the flame go out before I take another drag of the cancer stick as I let my mind fade away. For a moment, I forget about my problems as I watch the cigarette smoke fade into the rolling countryside that passes in front of me.
"You realize that this isn't healthy, right?" a voice asks me right before its owner leans against the railing beside me. The brown haired man had an annoying grin on his face as he glanced at me. "The cigarette and emotional repression. Both usually have a way of building up inside of you while they tear you up."
"I don't have to worry about cigarettes or cancer thanks to your fancy healing, Gabriel," I reply without even looking at him. I take another hit of the cigarette before I continue. "I am also a hunter. If I didn't bury my emotional issues compulsively, I don't think I would really qualify."
"Why is it the Winchester instinct to run away from anything you can't fight instead?" Gabriel asks. "It just drags on the problem instead of fixing it."
"It's because we know you can't fix some problems," I say. "Vampire? Just cut off their head. Demon? Exorcise it. Emotional baggage? Bury it until it overflows. When it does, bury the overflow in alcohol or the best equivalent. So here I am, smoking until I move on."
"Ignoring something doesn't mean you have moved on from it," Gabriel chides. "If I were you, I would do something to really leave the past behind."
"Let me guess," I say. "Does your idea involve commandeering one of the compartments, using archangel reality manipulation to turn it into a brothel, and have an orgy with the conjured prostitutes?"
"Wow," Gabriel says, holding a hand to his heart. "You know me so well."
"I choose to avoid your solution of getting my dick wet to ignore my issues," I reply. "That would just be drowning the problem in something other than nicotine."
You could take what you want.
I just grimace and do my best to push down the whispering voice. It grates on my patience every now and then, but it is relatively harmless despite being a persistent annoyance.
If she does not love you, then just make her. She will understand in the end.
"Shut the fuck up, Azazel," I growl under my breath as my mouth twists into a snarl and my hands grip the metal of the railing. "Just stay dead where you belong."
"His echo still messing with you?" Gabriel asks. "I have to admit, he just can't seem to stay dead and gone. Then again, I can't really say anything when I am seen as the angelic cockroach from how many times I was supposed to be dead over the millennia."
"Yeah," I admit. "No matter what I do, I can't seem to purge his imprint from my miasma. Every time that I think it worked, he just comes back sooner or later."
"My guess is that he will stick around until you truly accept the miasma," Gabriel muses. "Same reason I can use you as an anchor to this plane. You never assimilated my grace for the same reason you never finished absorbing Azazel's miasma. You are still afraid of it changing who you are."
"I kind of like being human," I reply as I watch the smoke from my cigarette scatter in the wind. "I don't feel like changing any time soon."
"You've never been human, Harry," Gabriel chuckles. "You are a perfect mortal vessel with the ability to not only contain demons and archangels indefinitely, but you allow them to fully release their powers on Earth. You were a stray soul in Hell that Azazel found and incarnated through a deal. Nothing human could do all of that. What's the real thing holding you back?"
"Maybe I just want to pretend for a little longer," I answer. "Pretend like I am just another Winchester, like I am not some kind of inhuman thing that hides within human skin and plays the part. If I were to truly accept the miasma and grace, I could never be that again."
"You act like being human just comes down to having a human soul," Gabriel responds. "I have seen irredeemable monsters that were normal humans, soul and everything. There was no demon possessing them, just them. I like to think you are like Castiel. Something different that chooses to be human instead. It doesn't matter what you are, it just matters who you want to be. After all, Castiel is an awful lot more human than a lot of people I have met."
I don't have a chance to respond before Gabriel vanishes with a quiet flutter of wings. The door behind me clatters open and I see that my friend finally managed to find me. "Why the hell did you not tell me you were going to be at the end of the fucking train?" he asks, his annoyance at me shining through his words.
"Sorry, Drake," I reply with a laugh at his reaction. "I didn't think you would hunt me down immediately. I just needed a quick smoke break."
"Of course I would," he replies as he runs a hair through his messy blond hair. "The only other option was sitting around with Crabbe and Goyle. I didn't exactly feel like losing brain cells right before school starts up."
"Come on," I say. "Goyle isn't that bad."
"I notice you didn't say anything about Crabbe," Drake says as he raises an eyebrow.
"I thought that was the best compliment I could give," I answers, getting a snort out of my buddy.
"So, I take it you saw Jazz back on the train?" he asks me as he leans against the rail where Gabriel had been moments before.
"Yep," I say, my eyes fixed on the glowing end of my cigarette as I examine it in my hand. "Last time I saw her, she was sucking face with some blue-haired dude."
"That would be TJ," Drake confirms. "Still don't get what she sees in him. I know he's my cousin and all, but it feels like he was the only kid this generation to really inherit the Black family blood. A real Slytherin if I ever saw one, though I doubt he is going to end up in that house. Way too crafty to get pinned as a snake so easily."
"Does he take care of Jazz?" I ask. "I know you are the kind of guy to keep an eye out."
"He never treats Jazz badly as far as I can tell," Drake admits. "He seems to be smart enough not to do something so stupid. I would prefer if he was more like Dora, but they can't all be winners in our family."
"At least there is only one bad apple this generation," I joke. "Just imagine if you took after your dad. I can't imagine what kind of asshat you would be. Probably threatening anyone who slighted you with the might of the Malfoy house."
"Thank God I took after Mother," Drake says as he snickers. "He might be my dad, but he is such a prick it astonishes the mind. No wonder he joined the magic Nazis."
"Not to be confused with magical Nazis," I reply. "Remind me to tell you how Dean killed Hitler that one time."
"Wait, what?" Drake asks in surprise. "Did you say Hitler? Like that shitty German art student who Grindelwald compelled into starting World War II?"
"The very same," I say. I check my watch and do some quick calculations in my head. "Well, it seems like we have a little time before we have to get changed. I might as well tell you now. It all started with these necromancers..."
The sun sets and the sky turns to night as we both laugh and talk the rest of the way to Hogwarts. Maybe this won't be such a bad day after all.
--
"First years!" a booming voice calls out. "First years come this way!"
I see that the man who called out was huge. I am not small by any stretch of the word, but he was over a head taller than me and broader than a barrel. He looked like he could easily lift the back end of the Impala without breaking a sweat. He had a big shaggy beard and was dressed in a heavy brown cloak that covered his massive form. One of his hands held an umbrella while the other held a lantern overhead to help us see and follow him.
Once he saw that the first year students were coming towards him, he led us down away from the train station and towards the edge of a lake where numerous boats waited for us. The lake was filled with fog that obscured the other side. It caught the lantern light to give it a ethereal look as it seemed to move around with a life of its own.
"Four to a boat!" he tells us before climbing into one himself. Drake and I hop into the nearest boat along with two random students as everyone else does the same.
"Go," the giant man says as he points his umbrella into the fog. The boats all push off of the shore in a single motion as we glide through the lake and enter the fog bank.
The cool moisture swept over us, chilling our bodies and condensing on our clothes. I just mutter in slight irritation at having to wear this stupid bulky robe for school. If they wanted us to wear layers, they should have just had us wear jackets instead.
My annoyance is quickly forgotten as we exit the fog and Hogwarts itself is revealed to us in all of its glory. To call it impressive or majestic would not do it justice. The imposing castle walls and the looming towers gave it a feeling of power which was balanced by the countless illuminated windows giving it a beautiful and welcoming glow. It ensnared our attention and took our breath away.
However, I thought I heard a splashing sound behind me, so I turn to see what it was. I promptly find that a single tentacle was rising out of the surface of the lake and stood motionless. Before I could say anything to Drake, it coiled around me and lifted me out of the back of the boat silently. I didn't even have a chance to shout before I was pulled under the surface of the water without a sound.
--
(Drake POV)
He turned to ask Harry what he thought about the castle only to find that his friend was nowhere to be found. The final seat of the boat was currently empty without a single clue to explain why.
Drake thought about it for a moment before he shrugged. Harry could handle anything that comes his way. No point worrying about him when he is just going to show up five minutes later and tease you for worrying in the first place.
Instead, Drake decided to just admire the beautiful view of Hogwarts. Mother had really undersold what the first view was like. He couldn't wait to see what the rest of the castle was like.
--
(Harry POV)
I slam into the bottom of the lake, the impact kicking up a cloud of silt that fills the water and reduces what little visibility there was. My powerful eyes could perceive the environment well enough to fight from the traces of moonlight and starlight that travels this deep underwater, but the kicked up sediment acted like an underwater smokescreen to blind me.
A tentacle snakes around me from one of my blind spots before dragging me along the lake's bottom. My body slams into rocks as I am used to carve a furrow into the soil. Then, I am yanked up towards the surface and thrown across the lake.
I skip across the lake like a stone until I finally lose enough momentum to tumble to a stop. I gasp for breath as I tread water. What the fuck is in this lake and why the fuck does it seem to hate me?!
--
(Drake POV)
As Drake waited for his name to be called for the sorting, he idly wondered what kind of food they would be serving after everyone was placed in a house. Mother had described the food as fattening and disgusting, but she had a far off wistful look in her eyes at the same time. He had been around her long enough to know that the pureblood heiress side of her knew it was low class food while the more genuine side of her enjoyed it.
He didn't really worry much about which house he would end up in. While Father was a hard core believer in the fact that all Malfoys should be in Slytherin, Mother said that he would do great in any house he ended up in. Despite this assurance, he hoped that he would end up in Slytherin because it was the house Mother had been in while she attended Hogwarts. He would be the first to admit he was a little bit of a momma's boy.
Than again, Harry's impulsive idiocy had definitely rubbed off on him which means he could always end up in, God forbid, Gryffindor. Father would definitely try to disown him if that happened.
As he glanced around the crowd, he still did not see any sign of Harry. Oh, well. He's probably fine.
--
(Harry POV)
I once had a dream where this big green guy slammed this other guy into the floor back and forth repeatedly. Ever since, I always wondered how bad it would really hurt. As it turns out, it hurts a fucking lot.
The squid decided it wanted to smack me against the water over and over again as hard as physically possible. The tricky thing about that is it was swinging me so hard that it was like I was hitting terminal velocity before each strike against the water. For those unfamiliar with water's unique properties, it becomes comparable to concrete when someone falls into it from over two hundred feet high. When you are thrown into it over and over with all of the preparation of a belly flop, it is not a pleasant experience by any stretch of the imagination.
I could already feel my ribs crack and break under the force as I get more than one concussion from the impacts. My internal organs felt more like a slurry in my body after the excessive tenderization I was receiving by the sadistic cephalopod. My vision was blurrier than an old Polaroid photo and had more spots than a cheetah.
As if my prayers were finally getting answered, it lets me go after one final slap into the water. I float back to the top with a groan before I channel some of Gabriel's grace into my hand and press it to my chest. The grace proceeds to heal my injuries in moments as bones mend, flesh knits back together, and bruises fade. I sigh in relief as the pain fades as well.
My moment of peace is quickly ruined by a tentacle grabbing me again. Oh, son of a bitch.
--
(Drake POV)
He finally hears his name called out by Professor McGonagall.
"Draco Malfoy!"
He takes a deep breath before walking out with all of the swagger expected of the Malfoy family heir and a descendant of the Black family. Each step is assured by a confidence hardened by challenge and strengthened by experience. After all, who wouldn't be forced to grow through a friendship with Harry Winchester of all people?
He ascends the steps to the stool, his robes fluttering behind him quite epically in his opinion. He lifts the aged leather Sorting Hat off of its resting place on the stool before sitting down himself. The hat is placed onto his head as he closes his eyes.
You seriously even bothered with this song and dance when you already know you are ending up in Slytherin?
The only sign of his inner irritation was a slight twitch in the corner of his eye as he fought down the impulse to burn the old rag.
Fine, fine. Don't get so violent over a little question. I was just asking. I mean, you would do well in Gryffindor.
'If you put me in the same house as those blowhards, I will literally find you and burn you,' the Malfoy heir thinks. 'I heard enough about them from my godfather to know that they tend to be jackasses for the hell of it. If even a tenth of what he told me about the so-called Marauders is true, I don't want to be anywhere near the house that enabled them.'
I hear you. Then it better be "Slytherin!"
The hat calls out the name of his new house to a massive cheer from the table of snakes. The other houses politely clapped as per tradition, but it was clear that they had already expected the son of a Death Eater to end up in the evil house.
It was amusing as hell to him that they honestly expected someone who had spent any substantial amount of time around a Winchester to ever entertain the idea of being evil. Even if he had any diabolical plans, he wasn't about to get up to them anywhere in their orbit.
Now that he thought about it, Harry probably should have returned by now. If he wasn't quick, then he would miss the Sorting altogether. Draco Malfoy idly wondered what was holding his friend up for so long.
--
(Harry POV)
I finally pry out my trusty knife from where I kept it sheathed at the back of my waist. The only good thing about the stupid Hogwarts robes is that they allowed me to hide weapons on me pretty easily since my body is obscured by the bulky wads of cloth. The same wads of cloth that are currently drenched in water and slowing me down. I slash through the fabric with my newly freed blade and tear off the remaining shreds to return my full range of motion to me. That thing would have killed me before the squid ever could.
Said squid decided to make a return just after that thought by wrapping me in its tentacles. I just use my weapon to slash and stab at any of the appendages that get close. The knife's honed edge lets it slice into the squid's rubbery flesh and spill its blood throughout the water. It immediately clouds up the water and everything begins to look like a scene from Jaws. The squid releases a piercing cry that cuts through the water to stab into my ears, but a quick pulse of angelic healing repairs the minor damage it produced and clears my head.
I catch a disturbance in the blood cloud out of the corner of my eye and dodge back just in time for a tentacle to miss its attempt to strike my body. I stab my knife into the passing flesh and hold onto the grip tightly as I am carried out of the blood cloud by the speed that the squid is swinging its tentacles. Once I get a good view on the squid as a whole, I focus on the demonic miasma within me and I make a deal with the universe. The contract is sealed with a snap of my fingers as I think a single word.
'Freeze.'
The lake around the squid freezes instantly as it traps the cephalopod within a massive ball of ice that binds it in place. The only portion of it still exposed was the tentacle I had been riding which was rendered motionless after the main body was encased in an iceberg. The ice is only temporary since it is always cheaper to perform short-term deals as opposed to permanent changes. As it stands, every cell in my body feels like I was dipped in liquid nitrogen as an all-consuming cold settles into my bones.
I stomach the sensation which puts the subzero temperatures in the Arctic to shame as I decide to be a little petty. It might be my demonic side or just a consequence of being around Gabriel too much, but I can't just let this attack on me go unpunished. This squid is going to learn not to pick fights it can't win after I am through with it.
--
(Great Hall POV)
"With the students sorted, it is time for announcements before we commence with the feast," Dumbledore says. "As of this year, we will be hiring three new teachers to further expand and improve Hogwart's curriculum to bring you the high quality education that you expect and that this school is known for."
It had been a few years since a new teacher joined the Hogwarts staff. The senior member of the newest batch was Aurora Sinistra. She had been hired four years ago to replace the retiring Astronomy professor after completing her mastery in the subject. The following year was when Lily and James Potter joined to fill the Muggle Studies and Defense Against the Dark Arts positions. Lily had been scouted upon the Muggle Studies professor Quirinius Quirell taking a sabbatical to Albania while James was asked to fill in after yet another professor quit after their first year. Despite the curse that seemed to be on the DADA job, James had continued without major incidence for all three years since his appointment.
The major difference between the previous times and now was that there had been open positions. Unlike then, these would be completely new jobs which meant that new courses would be available to the students. Additionally, the headmaster had left it as a surprise for the other staff since he felt it would be a fun way to keep them on their toes.
"I have been in talks with a society of scholars in the hopes that one of their number would join us as an instructor," Dumbledore explains. "Although they declined, they did introduce me to several gentlemen that were everything I could have wanted and more. They are from across the pond in the United States and they come highly recommended for both their theoretical knowledge and their practical experience. I dare say they might be well versed than I in many fields."
Dumbledore pauses for a moment only to draw his wand and performs an intricate spell with a single flick. The staff table stretched out as the seats slid to make room for three new chairs that were conjured into being. Once the spell concluded, he returns his wand and continues his introduction.
"May I introduce Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and Castiel," Dumbledore says as he signals with a wave of his hand to a side door to the Great Hall.
It opens before three men walk out and go to the staff table. The first man was dressed in jeans, boots, a grey shirt, and an unbuttoned flannel long sleeve shirt on top. The next was dressed in similar attire but with a blue shirt and a dark green jacket. The final was wearing a white dress shirt, black dress pants, a dark blue tie, and a tan trench coat. All three had rugged good looks which immediately had many of the girls in attendance swooning while numerous boys were hit with feelings of jealousy. Once they sat down at their newly added seats, Dumbledore began to discuss their roles in the school.
"Mr. Dean Winchester will be teaching a new physical fitness course that will be mandatory for all Hogwarts students," Dumbledore says to the shock of most of the castle. "It has come to my attention that exercise has been proven to help boost academic grades, improve moods, and increase the growth of magic reserves. This has led me to deem it necessary for the implementation of a course designed to focus on the physical body as opposed to just the mind."
This was controversial because wizards and witches in general saw exercise as pointless and a muggle act. The use of potions and spells could duplicate many of the benefits of exercise without the commitment needed to actually improve. However, all of the benefits were contingent on the continued upkeep of the regimen. Unlike a natural physique, a magically produced appearance would revert if left unattended.
"His brother, Sam Winchester, will be the first teacher in centuries to teach the practice of magical rituals and their utility," Dumbledore continues. "While there are more spells in this world than any one man can learn in a lifetime, magic produced by rituals can achieve many results that even the most skilled wandwork would find night impossible. Additionally, they served as the primary method of magical actualization long before wands came into use. This proves to me that it is a subject worth teaching once more."
Rituals were a topic that had long been contested in the Wizengamot. Since they had the capacity for use in the dark arts, they were banned for the most part despite their beneficial uses in benevolent magic. Since then, only the oldest and most powerful houses still employed rituals. With the course being reinstated after centuries, numerous students were excited at the prospect of learning a previously forbidden subject.
"Lastly, Castiel will be taking over History of Magic for Professor Binns who finally moved on from this plane of existence," Dumbledore explains. "After countless years of steadfast service to Hogwarts and its students, Professor Binns finally began the journey to the next stage of existence. As such, I found a replacement teacher who has such a deep and profound grasp of history that it is as though he was actually there as it unfolded."
The new teacher for History of Magic might have been the most shocking. Binns had been teaching for generations and everyone believed that he would be teaching even after Hogwarts turned to dust eventually. Some mourned the loss of an easy class and a chance to nap while others, particularly Ravenclaws, were overjoyed at the idea that they would have a chance to learn about the subject from a genuine teacher.
"With those introductions out of the way, let us sing the Hogwarts school song before the Opening Feast begins," Dumbledore says.
What follows next was such a horribly incoherent mess of pitches and tempos that it cannot in good conscience be called music or singing. Playing it for prisoners would be instantly flagged as cruel and unusual punishment only fit for CIA black sites and Guantanamo Bay. It is safe to say that the three new teachers were not very appreciative of the dissonant mess of sound that was committing atrocities on their eardrums. Even Castiel, a man of stoic patience and trained discipline, could not help by wince at the unpleasant serenade.
"Ah, no greater magic exists than music," Dumbledore says as he smiles and he brushes a tear from his twinkling eyes.
"Was that supposed to be music?" Dean whispers to Sam who immediately starts coughing to hide his laughter.
Dumbledore finishes of by telling them the customary warnings about the Forbidden Forest, Filch's updated list of banned items, and to avoid a certain corridor on the third floor in order to avoid a painful death. Usual Hogwarts stuff that the upper years were used to at this point.
"Now, I have but four words for you before we begin the feast," Dumbledore declares. "Nitwit! Oddment! Flubber! Tweak! Let the feast-"
Dumbledore's next words were cut off by a echoing boom as the doors of the Great Hall swung open with a thunderous strike. As the massive oaken doors swing apart, a single figure was seen standing in the doorway. He was dressed in the standard Hogwarts uniform of a white dress shirt, black trousers, leather shoes, and a black vest with the school emblem on the breast pocket. The only difference between him and the other students was the fact that his emblem had not changed to his sorted house and that the robes that were typically worn over the uniform were nowhere to be found.
Oh, wait. He was also dripping wet, his breath was pluming out in frosty clouds, a knife was gripped in one hand, and his other was holding a huge severed squid tentacle that dragged on the floor behind him. That was definitely out of the ordinary as well.
The entire Great Hall was struck onto silence at the appearance of the student. No one quite knew what to think except for a select few.
Dean elbowed Sam at the staff table. "See?" he tells his younger brother. "I told you he was going to show up eventually."
Draco rolled his eyes and rubbed his face in exasperation. He really should have known Harry would make a big flashy entrance. What was more flashy than coming in to the Great Hall looking like a serial killer from a horror movie?
A brunette first year Hufflepuff chuckled under her breath as she watched everything play out. She knew that she was in for a show.
Jasmine Potter at the Gryffindor table was shocked to see someone she hadn't talked to in two years suddenly appear out of nowhere. She didn't realize Harry would be attending Hogwarts or that he was even a wizard.
Lastly, Dumbledore's twinkling eyes went into overdrive. He almost lost hope that the student missing from the Sorting would ever appear.
Harry, on the other hand, didn't care for anyone's reactions. He just sheathed his knife at his back and pushed the wet black hair out of his face before setting his brown eyes filled with contempt on the entire Great Hall.
"Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to not check that the boats arrive with the same amount of students they left with!?" he shouts as he flicks ice cold water off his hand and onto the floor. He slowly stalks forward through the gap between the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables as he made his way to the staff table. "I was fighting that squid for half a fucking hour! I should have gone to Ilvermony instead of this bullshit. Stupid fucking castle and its stupid fucking squid."
If the other students were confused before, they were completely bamboozled by this point. They could just watch in shock and utter fascination as Harry continued his rant.
"Almost drowned because of the stupid fucking robe," Harry grumbles. "Why do we need them when it is a fucking magic school? Fucking tightwads can't afford to turn on a fucking furnace. 'Oh, it is part of the castle's charm'. Bunch of greedy dipshits have probably never heard of fucking hypothermia. Of course they haven't. They are probably as educated in fucking science as a bunch of backwoods hillbillies, but with an even smaller gene pool. Wonder how many of these elitist fucks have deformities from fucking their cousins for the past three hundred years."
Thankfully, Harry finally makes it to the Sorting Hat before he can air any more of his highly offensive opinions concerning the pureblood marriage practices centered on bloodlines or the general ignorance of British magical society in concerns to grade school science.
Before he picks up the hat, Harry turns to Dumbledore before gesturing with the hand holding the tentacle. "You guys are not getting this back," he says before plopping down on the stool and dumping the hat on his head. He closes his eyes and scowls from his seat. His expression is only interrupted as he brings the tentacle to his mouth and takes a vengeful bite out of it.
"Is... is he eating part of the giant squid?" Professor Sprout asks as she looks on in confusion and distaste at the idea of eating the bloody flesh raw.
"It appears so," Dumbledore says, not having much more to say at the moment. He seemed to be processing this about as well as anyone could.
The only few who understood the current situation were Dean, Sam, Castiel, and Draco. Dean immediately pulled out his phone and earbuds and began to watch the newest All Saints Day movie. Sam retrieved the book from the inner pocket of his jacket and resumed his current page. Castiel began to play with a Rubick's cube as he attempted once more to get at least two sides completed. Draco just laid his head on his folded arms and went to sleep.
"Harry's sorting should be completed soon," Dumbledore says. "Why do you seem to be preparing for a long wait?"
"Quick question," Sam says. "What is the record for the longest sorting for a single individual?"
"Ten minutes, I believe," Dumbledore answers. "Why do you ask?"
"I bet two hours," Dean says, pausing his movie for a moment.
"I think he might be forgiving this time," Castiel replies. "It will likely be an hour and a half."
"He will probably beat the record by an order of magnitude," Sam says. "One hundred minutes is right around an hour and 45 minutes, so that is my guess."
"You truly believe he will take such a long time?" Dumbledore asks in surprise.
"Absolutely," Sam answers. "We Winchesters are known to run on spite and Harry is the pettiest among the three of us. He will intentionally draw this out for the express purpose of starving us by delaying the feast. The only thing we can hope to do is wait for him to move on."
--
(An hour later)
"Time for pie," Dean says to himself as he pulls out a plastic wrapped snack pie that he always kept in his jacket for emergencies. Since dinner had been delayed for over an hour, it was finally time to break out the secret weapon.
"What is that, Dean?" Sam asks as he sees his brother unwrapping the snack.
"Nothing," Dean says as he stops moving for a moment from the belief that Sam could only see the pie through movement.
"That is clearly food," Sam says as he does not fall for the attempt at subterfuge. "Let me have some of it."
"Of course not," Dean says as he holds the pie away from his brother. "You always made fun of my emergency pie whenever I said you should carry one too. Let's see how you like going hungry now that the tables have turned."
They both stay still for a moment before Sam tries to reach over Dean and get at the snack. Dean immediately responds by using his free hand to push at Sam's face and keep him away. Castiel just ignores them in order to focus on his cube. Many of the students snicker at the interaction since the newly hired teachers decided to act like children.
Eventually, the struggle causes Dean to lose his grip on the desert which leads to it falling from his hand. It tumbled down in slow motion while Dean looked on in horror but was powerless to stop it. After what felt like an eternity to the eldest Winchester, the pie landed on the stone floor.
Dean immediately gives Sam a dirty look while the younger brother tried to ignore the gaze trained on him. Once he finished with that, however, Dean picks the pie off of the ground. He makes sure it had not broken open in the fall before becoming confident in its structural integrity.
Sam realizes what Dean is planning in a moment. "Dean, don't do it," Sam warns. "Just throw it away."
Dean looks at Sam and seems to consider it. In the end, he just blows on the pie and brushes it off before taking a bite. A content smile spreads across his face while Sam grimaces in disgust.
It is safe to say that some of the female students who were originally interested in Dean were deciding to change the target of their crush as many others sweatdropped at their antics.
--
(Inside of Harry's mind)
The Sorting Hat had never been this challenged by a student's mind before. His mind scape avatar, a scarecrow wearing his hat, had been put through the ringer by each progressive layer of the boy's mind.
First, he had to fight his way across a medieval battlefield full of knights, orcs, elves, dwarves, and all kinds of mages throwing attacks left and right. That wasn't terrible since he had a decent frame of reference from the past when such battles were common. He was able to reach the exit point without too much difficulty.
After that, he had to survive a massive gunfight in an American Wild West town. The air was filled with lead and gunshots while the ground was soaked with blood mixing amongst the dust. He had narrowly avoided being shot by a sniper from on top of a nearby saloon, but he successfully made the jump to the next level.
The level he had arrived on was set around World War II and the D-Day invasion of Omaha Beach. The Sorting Hat had been placed among the Allied troops arriving in an amphibious carrier and had to cross the beach before reaching the transition point deep behind German lines. The heavy fire from the machine gun emplacements in the hills made it a literal hell scape to cross unscathed, but the Sorting Hat had seen memories from some students playing Call of Duty and remembered basic strategies to reduce the chances of getting hit. Luckily, it made it to the trenches and safely to the point which led it deeper into the student's mind.
Now, it had just finished a death match against multiple Disney princesses. Yes, actual Disney princesses. Merida had been shooting it with her bow. Snow White had been summoning countless animals to hunt it. Mulan kept trying to slash it with a sword while Elsa blasted at the helpless hat-wearing scarecrow with her ice magic. Don't even get it started on Jasmine and her viscous tiger.
The Sorting Hat finally escapes the psychotic princesses with numerous gashes and holes in the scarecrow body while panting heavily. Even if he doesn't have lungs, he still needs a breather after that.
"Great job," a voice says to the hat. The Sorting Hat looks up to find itself in a log cabin in front of a roaring fire. There were two armchairs sitting on either side of the fireplace and each had an occupant resting on it while they ate sushi. One was the owner of the mindscape they were currently occupying, Harry Winchester. The other was a fairly plain looking man with brown hair in his early forties who had spoken. "I didn't think many people would have it in them to kill Disney princesses to get this far in the mindscape."
"Yeah, I think it would work better on people instead of a sentient leather hat," Harry replied before eating another sushi roll. "I take back what I said about that squid. This is delicious. It almost makes up for the thirty minutes I spent getting my ass kicked by an invertebrate."
"You had to use a shitload of my grace to keep your fleshy bits in your body, but I say it was worth it," the man says. "I haven't had squid this good since a time in Tokyo back during the 1700s. Damn, the only thing better than those rolls was the ass on the server."
"Jesus Christ, please don't go on a tangent about yet another of your bedroom conquests over the centuries, Gabriel," Harry says in annoyance. "You are the only person who enjoys those stories."
"Why do you think I tell them?" Gabriel asks. "It is kind of self explanatory at this point. Anyway, Hat Guy, you want some of this squid sushi? Me and the brat were about to rewatch the Kingsmen movies in honor of coming to the UK. You can take a load off for a bit before you head back onto a shelf for the rest of the year."
Gabriel conjured another armchair which aligns with the other two as a television screen appeared on the wall above the fireplace. A movie began to play as a plate loaded with sushi rolls and a pair of chopsticks appears on the newly formed chair.
The Sorting Hat considers it for a moment before picking up the plate and relaxing into the armchair. The hat hadn't had a chance to unwind like this in centuries, so it decided to make the most of it while it could. It tried one of the pieces of sushi by tossing it into the mouth on the hat and was surprised that not only could he actually taste it in the mindscape, but it was leagues better than any memories of squid that it had viewed before. The movie began in earnest as the hat wearing scarecrow relaxed beside an archangel and its vessel as they ate part of the Black Lake's most famous resident and watched an enjoyable ridiculous spy movie.
--
(An hour later)
(Great Hall POV)
The silence of the Great Hall was broken out of nowhere as the Sorting Hat immediately began to break out into song.
"Almost Heaven, West Virginia
Blue Ridge Mountains
Shenandoah River."
"Two and a half hours," Sam says. "I guess Dean wins since he was closest."
"Fuck yeah," Dean cheers.
"What is happening?" Dumbledore asks. "The Sorting Hat usually doesn't sing after his opening song before the Sorting begins."
"Random musical numbers seem to follow Harry," Castiel explains. "You get used to it after a while."
"They typically play out in a couple of minutes, so it shouldn't be a problem," Sam assures the headmaster.
"Life is old there
Older than the trees
Younger than the mountains
Growing like a breeze."
"How often do these occur?" Dumbledore asks in astonishment.
"Could be a month before one happens," Dean admits. "There could also be five in a day. Who knows?"
Snape mutters in distaste about muggle music from off to the side of the staff table. Despite not sharing the particular annoyance about the original source of the music, the other teachers could understand the dislike for random songs to start up for no reason.
"Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads."
"How long has this happened?" Dumbledore inquired. He was always interested in peculiar magic and this sounded unique amongst the stories he had heard before.
"All his life," Dean says. "It has definitely amped up more in the past couple of years though. I think an uncle of ours definitely didn't help. Uncle Gabe is his own kind of crazy though."
"Does he make something different happen?" Dumbledore asks.
Dean and Sam go through flashbacks of death loops, tv shows, and imaginary lingerie models. "Nope," they say at the same time.
"All my memories gathered 'round her
Miner's lady, stranger to blue water
Dark and dusty, painted on the sky
Misty taste of moonshine
Teardrop in my eye."
"It would be better if it was something other than country music though," Dean mutters. "A little Led Zeppelin to break up the monotony wouldn't be asking for too much."
"Are you still on that?" Sam asks in exasperation. "You know he is not a jukebox, right?"
"I would still prefer if he took requests once in a while," Dean grumbles.
"Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Country roads, take me home."
"At least he isn't singing Taylor Swift songs like Cass likes to play whenever we let him drive," Dean says.
"She writes good songs," Castiel replies, defending his personal driving music.
"You play Taylor Swift at a teen girl's slumber party, not on a road trip," Dean counters. "At least Harry has the decency to play music written for people who can legally drink."
"I hear her voice
In the morning hour she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
Driving down the road I get a feeling
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday."
"Can you two please not fight about Taylor Swift again?" Sam says, releasing the long suffering sigh of the friend forced to be the mediator in inane arguments. "The hat is almost done anyway."
"Sure," Dean says as he crosses his arms. He subtly flips Castiel off with the hand facing him in a way he knows the angel can see.
"Alright," Castiel agrees before scratching his temple with a middle finger aimed in Dean's direction.
Sam just groans as he deals with adult children who are probably less mature than the students they are going to teach.
"Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads
Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong
West Virginia, mountain momma
Take me home, country roads
Take me home, down country roads
Take me home, down country roads."
The hat finishes with a flourish that produces a cheer from several of the muggleborns while most of the pureblood students were still struggling with confusion about everything. The Sorting Hat followed his song by finally declaring the house of Harry Winchester.
"For loyalty and strength of character befitting the greatest of the Kingsmen, Merlin himself, I declare Harry Winchester a member of Hufflepuff!"
This brought along a confused and halfhearted cheer from the Hufflepuff table brought on by hunger and peculiar nature of their new housemate's sorting. The emblem on Harry's vest changed from the standard Hogwarts emblem into the insignia for Hufflepuff, a black badger on a yellow and black background.
With a smile, Harry climbs off of the stool before heading to his new table. Despite the rocky start to his time at Hogwarts, this might be quite a bit of fun.
--
Author's note:
Haha! The second chapter of Harry Winchester is finally finished! This took me a bit to write since I wanted to get all the pieces working together right, so I hope that you all enjoyed it. Apologies if the story was a bit chaotic. I felt that there was no other way to write it when the main character is the vessel of an archangel as eccentric as Gabriel.
I wanted to finish up this chapter before I started up my next update cycle since I was already partway through before beginning the prologue. I felt it was only right to give you all a taste of the main story instead of having you all wait until Harry Winchester gets its turn again.
To any fans of Dawn of the Jedi, I will be updating that next since I have not had a chance to write a major story chapter yet since I had to get through the exposition first. Stay on the lookout for that in the next week.
Feel free to write a review and let me know how I did. Was my characterization good? Did the story make sense so far? Was the fight with the squid done well? I thrive off of reviews and they help keep my motivation up. I always try to consider reviews when writing my stories and I will be sure to respond to any questions you all have.
If you enjoyed the story and want to keep up to date on updates, favorite and follow to get notifications for when a new chapter drops.
I have several other stories on my profile for anyone who is interested in reading more of my work. I like to think that they are all pretty good.
A pleasure as always,
Titan900