Stranger Than Your Sympathy
Part One – Freshmen Year
Chapter Twelve
Carlos was surprised when he found out who was on the other line. The last time they had spoken, John had all but cursed him out.
"You takin' care of my boy, Cervantez?" The gruff man asked. "I know he's a bit soft, but I imagine his first semester in Slytherin will have toughened him up a bit."
This was not the John that Carlos had known when he was younger and new on the HUCUSA register. Certainly not the John that he had danced with at his wedding reception to Mary. (It had been an impossibly tiny wedding – with both of them either estranged or hiding from their families.) Time had not been kind to the man who had once been one of his closest friends.
"Dean is an excellent student – top of his class, John."
"Yeah, well he better be. Can't have him disgracing the Winchester name."
No, you've done that well enough yourself, Carlos thought. He had been keeping an eye on Dean ever since he had gotten here. He knew the kid had a tough path to forge, being the eldest son of the much-hated John Winchester. But Dean was truly the best of both his parents. He had the effortless charm that John had when he was young but the kind fierceness of Mary.
"Well, he certainly hasn't done that. How can I help you today, John? I'm assuming this isn't a social call?"
Until the summer before, Carlos hadn't spoken with John in over a decade. It had taken him a good amount of cajoling and carefully placed words to convince the man to send Dean to Hogwarts at all.
"Nah, not that I would say no if you wanted to grab a cold one sometime. I'm calling about my other son, actually."
"Sammy?" He was pretty sure that was what the boy was called. He had heard Dean talk about him.
"Sam," John disagreed gruffly. "See, he's special. Dean is fine hunter, but Sam's really the brains of the family. A real genius."
Carlos had to pretend not to hear that Dean was a fine hunter – strictly speaking, he was not allowed to hunt at all until he was 18. But he had seen enough of the kid in class to know that Dean was more seasoned than some hunters who had been in the field for five or more years. It was unethical for him to not report it to HUCUSA, but he had to consider the consequences. More likely than not, John would pull the kid from Hogwarts entirely, and Dean would be the one to suffer for it.
"I look forward to having both your boys here."
"Yeah – you won't know what hit ya," John barked a laugh, "but see, Sam is currently working through the HUCUSA homeschool curriculum and it's a little…basic for him."
"You know that I cannot allow a student under the age of 14 to start at Hogwarts, John. I wish I could, honestly, but…"
"No, no, that ain't what I'm asking. I was hoping you could send Dean home with some extra reading and assignments for the boy. I'd like to give him a leg up, you know? Like I shoulda have if my old man hadn't split."
This disappearance of Henry Winchester was still an unsolved mystery. But it seemed that John's bitterness from being a legacy without the background knowledge to back it up had only grown in the years.
"Hmm," Carlos responded. "I can see if there are any age-appropriate materials that can be shared with Sam. If he's anything like Dean, though, he'll catch on quickly. You really have raised one hell of a kid, John."
He wasn't saying that just to gas John up either. The greatest surprise he had in years came when Dean Winchester had come to him and stopped a years-long steal of the student council vote. It took bravery beyond what he could reasonably expect from a freshman and certainly made his sorting make perfect sense. He was sure that Mary would have been immeasurably proud.
"Yeah, well, you think that now, wait 'til you get the younger one. I thought he'd be nothin' but trouble to be completely honest, always had a bit of a mouth on him. But ever since Dean went off to school he's fallen in line."
He didn't want to even think about what that meant, and it really made him want to bend the rules and allow Sam to enter school early. He knew what the HUCUSA homeschooling materials emphasized, and he had been trying to push back on it for years with the Council. But sometimes, there was no fighting The Man.
"That's great to hear John."
"Just want to see that my boy is treated right, Cervantez."
He hung up without so much as a "goodbye."
"Nice talking to you too, John," Carlos said sarcastically as he put the phone down.
III
"Why the hell would I trust you, Winchester?" Prickolas asked him when, at the beginning of Sinclair's next class, he told the Slytherin that he knew what their sigil was for.
Almost the entire class was already divided into pairs, even though the bell wasn't due to ring for another three or four minutes. It turned out that no one appreciated being paired with students from the other house and none of them wanted to spend time outside of class together. Benny had nearly gotten into a fistfight with Creedy in the library when they had met there the night before.
"Uh – because I want to pass this class too," Dean said, trying his best not to sound too annoyed because Jo was within earshot.
Vaught sneered at him. He looked around for a second before, just above a whisper, saying, "Do you really think you're going to survive a whole year here?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean shouted.
"Language, Mr. Winchester," Sinclair said as he entered the room. "There are ladies present."
Dean wanted to scream with frustration, but he knew there was no point in arguing with the teacher. "Sorry, sir," he mumbled.
"All is forgiven," he replied, with a creepy smile.
In the moment, Dean wasn't sure who he hated more. Vaught or Sinclair.
"Now, I see that all of you have already divided into your pairs. Why don't you all take your seats?" Everyone navigated to their regular seats – Gryffindor on one side of the classroom and Slytherin on the other. Sinclair shook his head a little. "Has anyone figured out my little puzzle? I'm afraid there will be no more class time for this little project."
There were groans all around.
Dean raised his hand. Vaught glared at him and shook his head. Dean ignored him.
"Mr. Winchester. I knew that you and Mr. Vaught would work well together. Go ahead then, tell us, what does your sigil protect from?"
"It's a banishing sigil," Dean said.
The teacher grinned.
"It is, indeed, well done! But, for full points, what exactly does it banish?"
"Uh…"
Sinclair raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Vaught?"
"Some sort of higher level of being. Not demons," the smug asshole responded.
"True enough. Did you, or at this point, anyone in the class discover which language these sigils are in?"
"Enochian," Vaught answered.
"Very good! Does anyone know what kind of creature speaks Enochian?"
Dean had no idea, and from the crickets coming from the rest of the room, neither did anyone else.
"Come on. We've discussed them in this class, even though it seems that we have many skeptics."
Dean still had no idea.
"Angels," Castiel said, quietly. So quietly, that Dean was the only one that heard him.
"Angels," Cassie said, a couple of rows away, having not heard Cas.
"Very good, Ms. Robinson! There is hope for us all yet. That will be five points to each Gryffindor and Slytherin – and an additional point to Gryffindor for Ms. Robinson's answer. Let's move on to today's lesson, we have much to review."
III
Ash knew that most people overlooked him.
Of the Marauder's he was, in many ways, the least outwardly interesting one.
Benny and Dean were a gregarious team that got everyone laughing. They would both be the most popular boys in their year if more than half the school didn't hate Dean just because of his father. Even with that, Dean had won over all of Gryffindor (even Jo, though she would never admit it) and much of the other houses.
Castiel was freakin' class president. The quietest of them all, there was something…magnetic about the kid. Ash didn't know what it was, but he paid close attention.
He didn't mind fading into the background. After all, it was the background where he was at his best. No one except for the principal and Jo even knew who he really was. If everyone knew who his parents were they might hate him even more than they hated Dean.
But despite letting himself be just a part of the unit that was the first-year Gryffindor boys, he watched things carefully. People carefully.
And something was up with Cas.
At first, he thought it was the threat his friend had received during Thanksgiving break. It had shaken him, sure, but that was nothing compared to after Sinclair's class.
He had tried to talk to him about it, but Cas had pretended there was nothing wrong and brushed him off.
As good as he was, he knew when he needed to enlist help. The perfect time came when the Algebra class that he, Benny, and Dean were in ended half an hour early so that they could start studying for finals. Cas was in a higher-level math class, so it was a perfect time for him to talk to his other friends.
"Hey guys," he said, interrupting the banter that was, of course, happening between Benny and Dean as they walked the cold ground instead of studying, as they were meant to be doing.
"Yeah, Ash?" Benny asked.
"Do you think there has been something off about Cas the last couple of days?"
Benny and Dean looked at each other as if they had their own language, which was unbelievably frustrating for Ash. He had known them for as long as they had known each other, and still, they seemed to have some sort of unshakable bond.
"He has been pretty quiet," Benny said.
"What?" Dean asked, oblivious. "He's a quiet guy."
"Not this quiet, chief," Benny disagreed.
At least one of them had some sense.
"What do you think is happening, brother?" Benny asked him.
"I dunno," Ash admitted. "But something – and have you seen Sinclair, he's like the cat that caught the canary."
"Dude, he's always like that," Dean argued. "He's a mean jackass who has it out for me – and by extension the rest of you. Sorry," not sounding particularly sincere.
"I'm just sayin', there's something happing. How'd he know what that sigil meant? I gotta tell you, I looked everywhere and couldn't find it."
And he really had. His grades were pretty good – not as good as Dean's or Cas's – mostly because he had more important things to worry about than the homework assigned by the teachers of the school, but he could have used the extra points on the exam. Ellen had made it clear that she expected him to get decent grades – and not get kicked out of this school like he had so many others. And, if there was one thing in the world he didn't want to do, it was disappoint Ellen.
So he had put in more effort on that one stupid project only to have Cas figure it out for Dean and not the rest of them. At least it was the one class that Dean probably needed help seeing as Sinclair wasn't a fan. He might have been the only teacher that didn't think rainbows shot out of Dean's ass. Maybe the others hadn't noticed, but Ash had, that somehow Dean had the entire adult population of the school in his pocket.
"I don't know – kid's pretty damn smart though. Smarter than he let's on, I think," Benny said. "Let's just keep an eye on him?"
"What like spy?" Dean bristled. "Guys, if there's something wrong, he wants to talk to us about, he will."
This time it was Ash and Benny who glanced at each other.
"Whatever man, it's not spying, it's concern."
Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm off to the library, either of you coming with?"
With the mystery of what happened to John Winchester when he was at school here somewhat solved, it had been a while since Dean had wanted to go on a spontaneous trip to the library.
"Naw, man, I'm gonna run up to the barracks before lunch," Ash said.
"Benny?"
Benny shook his head. "I'm gonna go with Ash – I think I forgot my homework for Singer on my bed. And I can't afford to lose any more points in his class."
Dean shrugged and left the two of them.
"I wanted to talk to you about our other little side project," Benny said to him, "were you able to secure the goods?"
Ash should have known that this is why Benny decided to double back to the dorms with him. "Yeah – with your cash, dude, it was easy enough. I pick them up over the weekend."
"I just hope you don't need any more. That was my allowance money from the last ten years," the bigger boy groused.
Ash didn't get an allowance. But he did get a free place to crash. "We could've just asked Cas. You know he'd be good for it. His parents are like, rich rich."
Benny shook his head. "Can't use him for his money that way."
"But for Dean…"
"Yeah, the kid would do anythin'."
"And you wouldn't?"
Benny inclined his head in defeat. "Speaking of Cas, why don't you tell me more about this theory of yours."
Thank god, Ash thought. "So, it all started with one of the first discussions we had in Sinclair's class…"
III
It's not that Dean didn't think something was up with Cas, but he trusted his friend enough to tell them what he wanted to tell them. And if there was a reason that he had gone quiet – well, that was his business and if he needed help he knew where his friends were.
Dean was on a completely different mission.
The extra time that he had before lunch was perfect for perusing what had become his favorite part of the library – the old school records.
He had done as much avoiding thinking about his mom as much as he was able. He wanted to wait to talk to his dad about it, but it was bothering him so much that he couldn't resist.
If she had really been here for a full four years, there had to be a record of her. Of course, he had never bothered to look at yearbooks beyond when his dad would have been here – and she had started Hogwarts the year after his dad had been expelled.
Dean wondered how they had even met.
Sure enough, he found her senior yearbook. In plain black-and-white – Mary Campbell, Gryffindor.
Wow, his mom had been beautiful.
He had a couple of pictures of her, of course. John hadn't denied him and Sam that, but there was something…different about this picture.
In the pictures with John or the baby versions of his brother and himself, there had been a lightness to his mom. Here, she looked serious. Barely even smiling for the picture.
"She hated that picture, you know," a voice behind him said and he jumped and turned.
"Ms. Dar," he said, with a surprise at the woman coming up behind him. Then he realized what she had said. "You knew my mom?" He hated how his voice cracked.
"I did, turn to the next page."
There. She was younger, of course, but she didn't look so different now that he couldn't recognize her. Latika Dar – Ravenclaw.
"You weren't in the same house."
Ms. Dar laughed. "No, we weren't. But things weren't quite so divided then as they are now – it was the 70's after all, the era of peace and love. In fact, turn to page 48."
Dean did so. There was a picture of a trio of students. It was Ms. Dar, his mom, and… "Is that Principal Cervantez?"
The three of them were gathered around a table, working on their senior projects, according to the caption. Seniors Mary Campbell, Latika Dar, and Carlos Cervantez prove that inter-house relations don't have to be rivalries, it said.
"Carlos was a Hufflepuff. It never mattered to us. We were inseparable."
Dean locked his jaw. "I thought that Principal Cervantez was an old friend of my father's."
"He was. How do you think they met? Mary introduced them. After she had left hunting, of course. Before John picked it up again. She very badly wanted out of this world, but she was a loyal friend and kept in touch with both of us."
It was too much for him. He wanted to ask a million questions but they were stuck in the back of his throat and he was worried that they would come out wobbly.
"I – uh, I have to go," he said.
"Alright," Ms. Dar said. "But, Dean, if you have any questions, please know that I am happy to answer any of them. Mary was one of my dearest friends."
He nodded and ran out of the library as quickly as he could.
III
Jo didn't feel great about letting Winchester listen in on her conversation with Nick. While they usually kept things pretty light, she knew that the looming break would make her best friend worried.
She hated that they had to pretend not to be friends.
That was all because of Nick's father, of course. Before, when he had just been being raised by his mom, it didn't matter. In fact, his mom had oftentimes dumped him at the Roadhouse for weeks at a time while she was on a bender.
Nick's dad would pay for everything – and that was part of the problem, ultimately. The money for his upkeep rarely went to him and his dad didn't care enough to check up on his bastard son.
Not until it became clear that he would be his only son.
It was two summers ago. Her best friend had all but disappeared for six months and when he had come back…well he wasn't the same kid that she had grown up with. Of course, this was around the same time that Ash had come to live with her and her mom, so while she missed her friend, at least she hadn't been completely alone.
She got to the classroom where they had agreed to meet early to make sure that everything was set. She had insisted on a different spot than their regular place – because she didn't want to bring Winchester someplace sacred to the two of them.
"You here, Winchester?" She asked the empty space.
"Yeah," came a voice from the far-right corner. "In position."
"Good. And…"
"I won't forget our deal," she could hear the exasperation in his voice, but she ignored it.
"You better not."
The door opened, cutting their conversation short.
"Nick," she said when her friend came into the room. For a second, he wore the outward sneer of a mask that he had to on since his dad had taken him away, but that was only a second before his face melted back into that of her childhood best friend.
"Jo," he said, almost breathless. She wondered where he had run from. "I've missed you."
She went over to him and they hugged for a second. She grabbed his hand and led him across the classroom.
"Come on, let's sit. How long do you have tonight?"
He followed her to one of the tables with two seats on it, conveniently on the right side of the room.
"Not long," he said, with regret. "Sinclair has…"
"I don't want to talk about Sinclair," she cut him off, not wanting him to reveal anything much to Winchester. She knew all about the Men of Letters and Nick's involvement. She didn't like it – but he had pleaded with her to understand that it was just until he turned 18. Then he could inherit and his dad would not have the same sort of control over his life.
"Fair. What do you want to talk about?"
"You. Christmas. What are your plans?"
He scowled and she almost regretted asking. "Father wants me at the manor."
"With the step-bitch?"
He winced. "Yeah. And the evil step-sisters."
Nick had three half-sisters. Two were from his step-mother's first marriage and the other was the only child born to his step-mother and father. He hated them. Jo had never met them, but she didn't doubt that they were as unpleasant as his step-mother.
"Well, at least he'll be pleased with your sorting, won't he?"
Nick snorted.
"I don't think anything brings him pleasure. And when he sees my grades…"
"You're top of your year!"
"In Slytherin," Nick pointed out. "You'd think I'd be competing with Ravenclaws when it comes to your class of Gryffindors. Of course, I can tell him about the crazy favoritism that Winchester gets but…"
There was a huff in the corner of the room. Thankfully, Nick didn't notice, but Jo sent a glare over to where she thought Dean was.
"Why don't you focus on what you've accomplished in Slytherin? Do you want to practice with me? Let's talk about how you dominated the other freshman Slytherins during initiation. What did you do to beat them out?"
"You know I can't talk about that, Jo," he frowned.
"Why the hell not? I thought we were best friends."
"Are you eager to share what your initiation was in Gryffindor? I know you all used some secret passageways; you want to tell me where they are?" He pushed.
Fuck. He had her there. "This isn't about that," she argued. "This is about getting you ready to face your father."
"Nothing I say is going to make any difference," he said bitterly. "The fucker hates me, but he has to put up with me or it's the end of the Vaught family line. Unless the brat has a grandson, then I'll be out on my ass again."
Jo didn't think it was fair for Nick to call his baby sister – who was only three years old, a brat, just yet. But she understood his bitterness.
"Why don't you distract me? What does Ellen have planned for the Roadhouse?"
She knew that this was the end of the conversation. I'm sorry, Dean, she thought to the boy in the corner. But she wasn't willing to push more. Nick had enough shit in his life without her pestering.
III
"That was not worth leaving Vaught alone for the rest of the year," Dean spat at Jo when she came back to the common room.
He was pissed. This had been his last chance. And now, it was gone. His dad was going to find out that he wasn't in Slytherin and that would be the end of his Hogwarts career. If it didn't make him so angry, he might have cried. He had so much more to do. To find out. Not just about his dad and the Men of Letters, but also his mom. His connection to both those things was going to be cut off from him. All because Jo didn't want to hurt Prickolas's feelings.
"A deal's a deal, Winchester," she said with a glare. "Unless you keep your promises the same way your dad does," she sneered.
"You don't know a goddamned thing about my father!" He shouted.
"Don't I? I know…"
"Woah, woah, everythin' alright over here?" Benny interrupted their argument.
"No," Dean said at the same time as Jo said, "Yes."
"Go away, Benny," Dean said, "Jo and I were just…"
"I don't care what you were just doing, you don't get to yell at her like that," Benny shot at him.
"I don't need your help, Lafitte!" Jo yelled. "I mean it, Winchester, you leave him the hell alone, or you'll have to contend with me." She stomped off.
"Damnit, Benny, what the fuck was that?"
"You were yelling at Jo. Who was just tryin' to help you."
"She was no help at all! And now I won't be able to come back to Hogwarts. I hope you're happy."
"Brother, come on, we'll find another way. You don't want to owe Prickolas anyway, right? This way you don't owe him a thing."
Dean felt the steam leave his body – which sucked because now he was just sad. He may not have expected it, but he loved Hogwarts. He had never really had friends his own age before. And yeah, he missed Sam every single day, but his younger brother would be here soon enough, and he had become attached to that future. Being able to spend time with his brother without their father hanging between them. Without him having to act as anything other than a brother.
Because other than some annoying teachers and stupid fellow students, there wouldn't be any monsters to protect Sam from. No worry about the money running out when they were both hungry. Not having to make sure that their father's orders were followed to a "T."
That was all gone now.
"Come on, cher, let's go back to the barracks and brainstorm. We'll come up with somethin', I know we will."
Dean shook his head. "I need to think. Could I borrow your jacket for just a little longer?"
"Sure thing, brother, but…"
"Thanks, Benny," he left. He needed time to think.
III
The next week, unfortunately, didn't give Dean and the others much time to think or plan.
"These teachers are sadistic," Dean muttered, Saturday afternoon, when, instead of spending their time enjoying a rare snowfall on the island, they were stuck inside, studying for their finals. "How can we possibly be expected to remember all of this?"
"If you had…"
"Shut up, Cas," Dean snapped.
Cas just shook his head and went back to his reading. All of his friends had become accustomed to his foul mood, which hadn't gone away since his failed attempt to learn more about Slytherin from Jo.
Ash entered the room.
"They're here!" He announced with more joy than Dean thought someone should be feeling at this moment.
"Just in the nick of time," Benny said with a smile.
"What are you talking about?" Cas asked. Dean was happy that he wasn't the only one who was completely lost.
Ash pulled out a familiar black plastic bag. It was the one that contained all that he "acquired" from town. "They weren't cheap, but I talked the guy down a bit, Benny. Got 'em for $375 each."
Dean leaned closer to see what possibly could have cost that much money.
Out of the bag came four black boxes that he recognized immediately. Although they were smaller than what he expected.
"Cell phones?" he asked.
"Yeah," Ash said, "Nokia 101s. Top of the line technology."
All of the cell phones that Dean had seen (and there weren't many) were double that size and were only used by rich businessmen.
"Go on, take one. They're charged up already," Ash encouraged.
Books forgotten – they each grabbed a phone. Dean had never even held one before.
He spent a couple of minutes clicking around the phone, amazed.
"Why?" He finally asked.
"Benny and I know that you travel a lot when you're with your family and your father…" he stopped. "And you may not be able to use the phone in the motel you are staying in. This way we can keep in contact – no matter what."
Dean was completely speechless.
"These just came out, not even my parents have these yet," Cas said with a frown, covering the silence. "How did you get them?"
"I've got my ways, you know that, man," Ash replied. "And, even better – if we can't talk, ya know because we have detentions in different rooms or if only Dean gets caught again, there is a new feature. Let me show you."
He started pressing keys on his phone – it took a couple of minutes, but Castiel's phone dinged.
Cas looked at it. "It says – Hello world." He picked the phone up to show everyone.
Ash was grinning. "Yeah, it's called a Short Messaging Service. If we can't talk, we can send each other short messages. And these are all on the same network, so it'll work."
"Dean, you ain't said anything, brother," Benny pointed out.
"I don't know what to say."
"A first time for everything!" Benny teased. "Look, cher, we ain't going to let you fall through the cracks, even if that insane daddy of yours tries to pull you from Hogwarts."
"He's not insane," Dean muttered. "Guys, I just – I can't pay for this."
"We're not going to charge you," Ash insisted.
"I can pay for mine," Cas said quietly.
"You either, brother," Benny said. "These are from Ash and me. Merry Christmas. For the next ten years."
"Twenty, at least," Dean shot back.
"Sure thing," Benny agreed. "Now, Ash, you gonna show us to use these fuckin' things?"
"It's like you're from another century," Ash groused. "Alright Grandpa, let's start with programming each other's numbers in…"
III
"I only gotta a couple of minutes, Sammy, these teachers are putting us through the goddamned paces. I have like a bajillion essays to write that are all due before I board the boat on Friday."
"I can't wait to see you, Dean. I have sooo much to tell you, you have no idea what Dad and I…"
"Yeah, yeah. Just – you're sure you'll be there?"
"At the dock? Of course – we wouldn't miss it!"
"Where are you right now? I didn't recognize the area code this week."
"Walla Walla," Sam replied. "So, see, we're already within a stone's throw from you. Dad said we're going to have to get some snow chains for the Impala but…"
Dean groaned. "Those sure as hell better not hurt my…"
"Yeah, yeah, your Baby. Don't worry, Dad won't let anything happen to the car. Would you prefer we don't go over the pass at all?"
"Of course not. Just keep your eyes on the forecast," Dean said. "I – uh, I've really missed you, man."
"Dad's right, school is making you soft," Sam teased.
"Shut up," Dean said, without any heat.
"And I can't wait to hear all about Slytherin. Dad's told me more about it and I can't believe what you had to go through in just your first week. I feel so lucky that you went through it first – that way I can be properly prepared and no one will mistake me for a Mudblood."
"Sam!" Dean shouted.
"What?"
"You shouldn't say that word," he practically growled. "Where did you even hear that?"
"Dad, of course. It just means someone not from a hunting background. Don't get your panties in a twist."
"That is not what it means."
"What does it mean, then?" Sam challenged.
"I'll tell you when I get home. I have to head out, Cas promised to tutor me in Algebra but only before his study group for Sigils. But, buddy, I'll see you next week. In the meantime, try and stay out of trouble."
"I'm not the one who gets in trouble!"
Dean snorted. "Right. See you soon. Bye, Sammy."
III
A bored junior – a Ravenclaw – Dean didn't recognize knocked and then, without waiting for a reply, opened the door, interrupting their lesson.
Dean held in a whistle as Bobby turned to glare at the interloper.
"What?"
To his credit, the kid did look a little nervous.
"Principal Cervantez wants Winchester," he said. "Sent me here to come and get him."
The whole class started making "oooh you're in trouble" sounds.
"Shut up, idjits. This is the last class 'fore his final and Cervantaz wants him now?" He asked the kid incredulously.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Singer, sir, he said right away…"
The kid looked downright terrified now. Dean might have felt smug if he hadn't been so nervous at being called to the principal's office. Not that this was an uncommon occurrence for him – at least not in his former life, but he usually, at very least, knew why he was in trouble.
"Alright, fine. Winchester – essays are due before you board the boat. Git on with you."
Dean stood.
"He said to bring your things," the junior provided.
More hollering as Dean collected his things.
"If I hear one more peep outta any of you, that'll be an entire class deduction of 10 points for your house. Each."
That shut everyone up very quickly as Dean made his way out of the room.
Trying to keep a cool exterior, even though his heart was going a million miles per minute, he tried to make cool conversation.
"So, how'd you end up as Cervantez's personal errand boy?"
The Ravenclaw looked at him with no small amount of disdain. "How'd you end up getting called to see the principal twice in your very first semester? Gotta be some kind of record, Winchester."
"Geez," Dean said, "I guess I can take you off my Christmas card list."
The Ravenclaw ignored him and they walked in silence until they got to the door.
"Go ahead," the junior indicated, "hopefully, this school will only have to suffer you for half a year, instead of a full year like with your father."
Another member of the John Winchester fan club then, Dean thought.
Deciding that the eccentric principal would be more pleasant than the kid he was currently shackled with, he entered when the man inside called for him.
"Ah, Mr. Winchester, good to see you, have a seat," the principal said.
Nervously, Dean did as he was told. "Principal Cervantez, I don't know what I did but…"
"Nothing, of course, I just had a phone conversation with your father the other day, and I promised that I would have a chat with you."
Dean swallowed. Was this it? He thought that he at least had the next five days to figure this out. "Sir, please, don't let him pull me out!"
The principal gave him a strange look. "Of course not, Dean. That's not why you're here. Apparently, your brother has taken to HUCUSA curriculum like a fish to water and John called to request that I send some more advanced materials home with you over the break."
Dean sagged into his chair in relief and he flashed a smile. "Of course he has. Sammy's a damn prodigy."
The man hummed. "You're not too bad yourself, Mr. Winchester," he said. "You're top in almost all of your classes."
He ducked his head. "I ain't nothing compared to Sammy."
Cervantez quirked a smile. "That remains to be seen. I have taken it upon myself to gather some materials that would be considered appropriate for a student of Sam's age. As I'm sure you are aware of classes, HUCUSA is quite strict when it comes to what they allow young minds to have access to. Everything in this packet follows those guidelines."
He handed Dean a frikkin' three-inch binder that was basically exploding at the seams with papers. Sammy was going to lose his little nerd mind.
"Thank you, sir," Dean said, with a grin. "We'll make a Ravenclaw outta Sam yet."
"I'm sure whichever house he is sorted into will benefit from his presence. Now – that is what I have officially logged with HUCUSA of what I am distributing to your brother. But – from both observing your first semester and from your father's report of your brother's intelligence, I have something a little less official."
Dean was confused as the principal pulled out another binder – smaller, but still substantial. "But…"
"You are young, Mr. Winchester, but I think even you have begun to understand that not all in HUCUSA are as…progressive…as one might hope for. Now, this binder," he pointed his finger on the top but did not hand it over, "contains some materials that are still age-appropriate, but possibly a little less…biased."
Biased? Dean wondered.
"I can see that you still don't quite understand. Your father requested materials that would specifically give Sam a leg up as a Slytherin legacy – as a Winchester legacy."
His stomach turned. "Sir – you didn't tell…"
Cervantez shook his head. "No, no, that is not my news to share. And, for the record, it seems that your father has no inkling of which house you were sorted in. Which was quite cunning of you – John Winchester is not an easy man to fool."
He is if you've not talked to him for more than 10 minutes in the last three months, Dean thought to himself.
"The point, I think, Mr. Winchester, is that you have seen a little of the doctrine of those who are from more traditional hunting backgrounds. These materials provide a balance to some of those messages."
It clicked. Cervantez was trying to prevent Sam from becoming what Sinclair had hoped Dean would be – an obedient Man of Letters. Dean was pretty sure that he had ruined that chance for Sam by doing what he did, but still…no, he cut off that line of thought. Sam barely listened to their father, so he doubted the kid could get pulled in by fascists disguised as academics.
"It would be wise, I think, if you told no one of these additional lessons. Including your father. If you don't think that you can do that or if you think that your brother isn't capable of keeping a secret, this binder need not leave my office."
Dean nodded. "Understood, sir. I don't think that will be a problem."
"Very good," he picked up the binder and handed it to Dean.
"Thank you, sir. I was wondering…" he hesitated. If the principal was cool with him lying to his father, then maybe he could be of help.
"Yes, Mr. Winchester?"
"My father – he threatened to take me out of Hogwarts if I was sorted anywhere by Slytherin. I think – because he didn't get to spend much time here, that he just doesn't understand. About what Slytherin really is or what they stand for. And, well, I love it here and I'm worried, and since I don't have any friends in that house, that he's going to catch me in not knowing anything."
The principal tilted his head. "Go on."
"Seeing as you're the principal, I was wondering – hoping, that maybe you could tell me what I should know to be able to pretend to be a Slytherin. I'm not asking for any top secrets! Just enough that…"
"That you can convince your father."
"Yeah."
"Hmmm," he looked pensive, "I can hardly pretend that I disapprove of your lying to your family, after what we just discussed. And I wasn't a Slytherin myself, but I am privy to some information that you might find interesting. What would you like to know?"
Dean grinned.
III
"Did you like question ten, Dean?" asked Benny as they emerged from the last exam of the semester, Social Studies.
"Loved it," said Dean briskly. "Name five signs that you are working with a non-registered hunter. Excellent question."
"D'you think you managed to get all the signs?" said Benny in tones of mock concern.
"Think I did," Dean said seriously, as they joined the crowd that was headed out of the classroom building and onto the beach, eager to get out into the snowy, but sunlit grounds. "One: He was expelled from Hogwarts. Two: He travels the country endlessly with his two half-breed sons. Three: He shares my last name."
"I don't think it's fair to call yourself a half-breed, Dean," Cas said with a frown.
"Please, that's one of the nicer things people have said about our Deano," Ash said.
"That doesn't mean it's true."
"It's cool, Cas, he's right." Dean didn't mind. He really had been called far worse things his entire life, he didn't think that it would end here.
"But seriously, what stick got up Turner's ass to make him ask questions like that on the final? I thought he liked you." Ash asked.
"He don't like Dean's daddy," Benny explained.
Ash rolled his eyes, "No shit – nobody does, 'cept Dean."
"They just don't know him like I do," Dean said without even a little bit of seriousness in his voice. Of course, he'd beat up anyone who talked smack about his dad, but he had gotten used to the fact that he was a pariah.
"Maybe Mr. Turner was trying to help you," Cas suggested. "Maybe he thinks that you don't know that your father isn't registered with HUCUSA."
Dean snorted.
"Maybe he thinks you're a moron, cher," Benny chuckled.
"Or Cas thinks Turner is."
"I do not!"
"Doesn't really matter does it?" Dean asked. "My dad never said a single word to me about HUCUSA or Hogwarts 'fore this summer, so it's not like I thought that he was on anyone's payroll."
Not with the kind of places were stayed at growing up, he thought, but didn't say out loud.
"Still, maybe there's somethin' to it," Benny said. "Turner ain't usually one for subtlety."
His friends started debating what exactly Turner was trying to do with the exam, but Dean was distracted. Sitting on a bench, with a book in her hands, was Gwen Campbell. It was rare to see her apart from her family pack – or her friends. He hadn't spoken to any of the Campbells since the big reveal. And if his dad found out about his house and didn't let him come back (or just decided that Dean would be more useful at home), this could be his last chance.
If any of the Campbells would talk to him, it'd be Gwen. He mentally shook his head at the thought of trying to approach Christian or Mark.
"Hey guys," Dean said, interrupting their flow of conversation. "I'm gonna go talk to Campbell over there. I'll see you at dinner?"
"You sure, Dean? Do you want us to come with you?" Cas asked.
He shook his head. "No, I think this is something I need to do on my own. Then party in the Barracks tonight?"
Ash grinned. "Damn right – just wait until you see what I scored for our celebration."
Dean patted him on the back and headed over to Gwen.
"You know, most people would think that it's too cold to sit outside and read," he said as he approached her on the bench. "Plus – aren't your finals over? Why the hell are you still reading?"
She sighed but didn't look up, simply turning the page of her book.
"Look, I wanted…"
"Winchester, what part of my sitting here by myself makes you think that I want to talk to anyone?" She interrupted.
He slid onto the bench next to her and was surprised to find that it was warm. In fact, all of the air around them was at least twenty degrees warmer than it was outside.
"What…"
Gwen slammed her book shut. "It's a basic heating rune, moron," she said pointing at a symbol carved into the wood.
"I thought that Gryffindors weren't big into magic," he said, feeling kind of dumb as he said it.
"Just because we don't like witches doesn't mean that we can't see the usefulness of magic. And last I heard, it was you that had the problem with magic, not Gryffindors in general."
She had a point.
"Campbell…Gwen, I just – I wanted to say that I found out a couple of weeks ago, and well…I didn't know before."
"That could be any number of things, Winchester," she snapped, "I can only imagine the encyclopedias we could fill with the knowledge you don't have."
"About – well, about my mom."
"What about her?"
"That she was…you know…a Campbell."
Gwen looked him straight in the face and then burst into laughter. At his straight face, she stopped. "Jeez, Winchester, you're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not. My dad – he never told me."
"That's a real shocker. The entire hunting community knows about Mary Winchester. She was disowned the second she married into that family."
Dean prickled.
"Actually, she was disowned far before that, for going Muggle. She's the cautionary tale that baby Campbells are told as bedtime stories. About the danger of leaving the family."
"You don't know a damn thing about my mom," he huffed, angry at himself for even coming over here. He should have known better.
"I think I know more than you do if you didn't even know her maiden name." Her expression softened a fraction. "Look, Winchester…"
"Dean," he corrected, "we're cousins, after all."
She pulled a face. "Dean, then." She looked around to check to see if there was anyone listening in on their conversation. "Did you really not know?"
He shook his head.
"Well, I guess that's why you felt comfortable hitting on me."
Dean winced. Gross – he hit on his cousin. "Just – what do you know about my mom?"
Gwen looked him up and down. "I know that the family line on her is wrong. If you ever repeat this to anyone, I'll deny it, but the reason her leaving was such a big deal was because she was the best. She was the smartest, quickest, toughest hunter in the whole damn family."
"Did you meet her?" Dean was quickly trying to do the math in his head. Gwen was a couple of years older than him, so it was possible that she had actually interacted with his mom – and could remember her.
"Once. That I remember."
"Really? Even though…"
"Yeah, she left hunting years before I was born. But she kept in contact with my dad. She was the last connection he had to his sister and he didn't want to join in the shunning that the rest of the family engaged in."
"What do you remember?"
She shook her head. "Not a lot. But I do know one thing, and I will tell you, but after that, you've got to leave me alone Winchester. You have never had the misfortune of a Campbell Family Christmas, and let me say, this is the last tiny bit of peace I'll get until I'm back here in the New Year."
He was desperate. Whatever she wanted. "Yeah – I'll go."
"She came and visited, maybe a year or two before she died, I'm not sure. I was very young. But I know that she came because she had found and killed the thing that murdered my mother. It was the first and only time I've ever seen my father cry. So, despite all the bad blood, I know the truth."
"The truth?"
"That there was no one more loyal to family than Mary. And that she was never as retired as she pretended to be."
Dean wanted to ask more questions. He was dying to ask more questions, but he could tell from the look on Gwen's face that there was no point.
"Thank you," he said, standing up. "And Merry Christmas."
Gwen nodded back at him.
Look, ma, I can write a chapter in fewer than three months!
I think Chapter 11 was seriously just very challenging for me and I feel like I'm in the flow now, so hopefully things will keep moving and I will be producing chapters far quicker than before.
I promised myself that this chapter I would get to Christmas but…lol, I did not. Next chapter.
I've had a couple of flames about how there is not enough Sam in this story. I want to say that there will be lots of Sam in this story – the whole reason I wanted to write this story was so that I could explore Sam and Dean's brotherhood through the lens of Sirius and Regulus. But I have to build to that. Now, did I think that would take me over 90,000 words to do? Of course not, haha, but, it is what it is.
Anyway, thanks to everyone who has engaged, I will hopefully see y'all soon.