What the Hell, Harry! part 1a
Title: What the Hell, Harry
Fandom: Supernatural/Harry Potter crossover
Pairing: Dean Winchester/Harry Potter slash
Word count: 5800 this part
Warnings: slash, lots of swearing
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Supernatural. Shame, that.
Timeline: HP - AU after the last chapter of the 7th book, as in spoilers for the whole series except the Epilogue. Supernatural - spoilers for every episode that has come out, s takes place during season 6. Be aware.
Summary: One night, Dean and Sam stumble over a mini-werewolf and then two strange guys with some wooden sticks in their hands. Chaos ensues, along with fun, fear, friendship and maybe even something more.
What the hell, Harry?
***SPN/HP***
Hello, guys!
So, after months of not doing anything interesting in particular, I’ve somehow picked up on Supernatural, which has now become my very, very guilty pleasure. But, anyway, what is done, done, and what is more than one hundred episodes of ridiculous plot is watched, more than one time, what the hell. And since the next episode is about half a month ahead, I’ve decided to start another thing and I’m almost sure I will abandon some time in the future because I don’t learn from my own mistakes…
Anyway, here’s a Supernatural/Harry Potter crossover fanfic for you, cuz I haven’t found the one that would appeal to my interests do instead I began to write one myself. It’s gonna be a medium sized multi-chaptered story with the Dean/Harry line as a slash pairing, caz I really wanted to have these two characters main focus here. Warning: this story’s going to be slash, so if it’s not your cup of tea, you better leave now than later. I tried my best to make all the characters as in-character as possible, so I hope I wouldn’t get a lot of indignant complaints on this behalf.
Also, this story takes place during sixth season of Supernatural so spoilers for every episode that has come out, including 6x16. As for Harry Potter, takes place thirteen years after the final chapter, with complete ignoring of the Epilogue. You can say, AU after the Battle of Hogwarts chapter. So in this story Harry is 31, Dean is 32. Bear with my timeline, guys :)
Anyway, have some fic now, if questions - feel free to ask in comments.
Reviews are absolutely necessary :D
Also, English is not my first language and this shit is unbeta’d, so please be gentle, guys.
***SPN/HP***
Part 1.
Wolves and what-the-fucks
They had been passing Nebraska and it was about four am, when Sam really, like really, needed to stop for his natural needs so Dean grudgingly (because, seriously, does Sam have a bladder of a five-year-old?) pulled over, and they just so happened to be driving on the road through the woods, so what harm could that be?
“I think I heard something, man,” Sam said as soon as he walked out from behind a tree where he’d been relieving himself.
“Yeah, me, too.” Dean said. “That was a sound of my hair turning grey while I was waiting for you, princess”
He didn’t need to look at Sam to know his brother was wearing his bitch-face expression.
“Aren’t you hilarious” Sam said, Bitch-face still firmly in place, “Seriously, though, Dean, I think I heard some noises deeper in the woods, like some animal, a very big one, was moving around.”
“So what? A bear or a deer or no-one-cares what else. What’s the big news?”
“Dean,” Sam said in a voice that meant fucking business. “I know what I’m talking about, there must be so -“
And then Dean heard it, too.
And it had suddenly been very close. Like, too close, just behind Sam’s back -
“Sam!” He yelled, but it was too late, an animal the size of a small bear had brought him down and though Dean hadn’t caught more than a glimpse of this thing, he knew for sure it was a werewolf.
He was been lucky he’d been standing by the car, so he quickly opened the trunk door and grabbed the silver bullets. He didn’t have time to load his gun, though, as the werewolf threw him on the down and pinned him to the ground, its sharp teeth bared, growling loudly. The hideous smell from its mouth hit Dean’s nostrils and he coughed.
The werewolf didn’t have time to bite him, though, as it was hit on the head with a large bough by Sam, who’d gotten from the ground. It wasn’t enough to kill the beast or even stop, but it was enough for Dean to grab and load his gun and point it at the monster.
Seconds before he pulled the trigger, a voice, somewhere from his right, shouted:
“Expeliarmus!”
And the gun suddenly shot out of Dean’s hand as if some invisible power threw it out. He turned around sharply and saw two men standing in the middle of the road, their hands outstretched, pointing something at him and Sam, something like sticks.
One of the men pointed the stick at the werewolf and said ‘Stupefy’, and the beast fell on the ground immediately, unmoving and looking dead.
Then he caught movement with a corner of his eye and saw Sam draw out his gun quickly, moving on reflexes he had so wonderfully developed, and point it at the werewolf. Before he could fire, though, his gun, much like Dean’s own, flew out of his hand.
“Don’t shoot, he’s not dangerous anymore!” One of the men said and they both lowered their sticks. He spoke with a very distinct British accent “I immobilized him, he can’t move”
Dean just stared at them, too shocked to actually come out with something.
“I will now give you your guns back, but you’ve got to promise not to soot, okay?” The same man said and only then did Dean notice that both his and Sam’s guns were in the man’s hands.
His ability to speak suddenly returned to him.
“Who the fuck are you?!” He demanded, not too politely, but now was not the time for it. Those two must be demons or possibly even something worse, and how did they manage to disarm them like that? They must be something pretty dark.
Quickly, he counted the steps he had to take to get to the trunk where more guns were and the salt and maybe they were not so screwed yet -
He heard the trunk door snap shit suddenly and there was the sound of locking. He turned back and saw another guy holding his stick pointed at the Impala. He swallowed, angry at their helplessness, unable to do anything.
“Hey, we’re absolutely calm, guys, really, you can give us back our guns, seriously” He heard Sam say and looked at him. Sam stood to his left, his left arm bleeding and there was a thin trickle of dried blood going down his cheek. His brother, though, ever the diplomat, did look absolutely calm, his hands sprayed in front of him in sign of defenselessness.
Dean grit his jaw. Whatever Sam was trying to achieve, he hoped it would work.
“I don’t really think it’s a good idea to give them back these god-awful shooting things, Harry” The guy without their guns said. “I’m sure they will try to shoot us”
He looked closer at the men. One of them was really tall, probably Sam’s level tall, and redheaded, with his hair a kind of fiery red Dean had never seen before. The other one, obviously called Harry, was probably few inches shorter than Dean, had black hair and kind of ridiculous round glasses. Both of them looked about thirty.
“Well, I wouldn’t really blame them, Ron” Harry said, shooting him and Sam apologetic smile. Dean glared at him, angry at himself, these men, this fucking screwed situation they had managed to get themselves into, at Sam, because, really, the man twenty-eight - it was high time he learnt not to drink too much while on the fucking road!
“Who the fuck are you?!” Dean repeated, this time loudly and boldly, using his commanding tone he usually addressed Sam with. The tall redhead - Ron - quirked an eyebrow at him, obviously not impressed at the slightest.
“I really wouldn’t use this tone if I were in your shoes, mate” He said, his lips stretching in a sly smirk. He flipped his stick rather pointedly and Dean didn’t need to be a Stanford graduate to realize that these sticks were the source of the men’s power. “You don’t usually want to piss off the guys your life depends on”
“Ron!” Harry railed at him, scandalized, then turned back to look at him and Sam. Then he cautiously took a step closer. “Look, guys, we don’t want any problems with you, so I’ll give you your guns back if you promise to keep cool, alright?”
CONTINUED