Blood of the Father: Part 3 (Harry Potter/Supernatural)
Title: Blood of the Father
Author: Koinaka
Rating: PG13
Pairing(s)/Character(s) Harry, John, Bobby, Dean, Sam, Ron, Hermione, mentions of canon pairings, past Harry/Ginny, future pairing not decided
Genre: Supernatural!Crossover, AU, drama, supernatural, thriller
Spoilers: up to Season 3 for Supernatural with all mentions of Azazel and his endgame fair game.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JK Rowling and Eric Kripke respectively.
Summary: Sam's generation of psychic kids wasn't the first. When odd things begin happening after Harry Potter's twenty-third birthday, he goes to America looking for answers.
Warning(s):
Word Count: Around 2200 words for this part.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2
Blood of the Father
By Koinaka
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes:
Open, locks,
Whoever knocks!
MacBeth Act 4 Scene 1 Lines 44-47
Chapter Two
Water, water, everywhere but not one drop to drink!
Over the next several weeks, Harry's flat had slowly been transformed until it very much resembled Mr. Lovegood's study. Stacks of books, mostly theological texts, were littered on every available surface. Harry's desk itself was covered with scrolls of parchment and Muggle composition books that Harry used to record any information he thought might be useful. The composition books were, admittedly, relatively empty, considering how little information he had managed to procure from the magical world. The newest addition to Harry's rather cluttered desk was the large map of the United States that Harry was currently hunched over. After his meeting with Mr. Lovegood, which unsurprisingly enough left him with more questions than answers, Harry had searched for what exactly the man had meant by his statement: The road to enlightenment has many pathways, but they all pass through Missouri.
It had taken him over a week to realize why that sounded familiar to him. He remembered, albeit very vaguely, learning about Missouri during his primary school days. It was one of fifty states located within the United States. His first reaction was that obviously that had not been what Mr. Lovegood meant. Why would Harry be able to discover the truth in the United States of all places? It didn't make any sense, so he simply ignored it.
Until the previous night.
Dreaming of the yellow-eyed man, who he now highly suspected was actually a demon, had become a regular occurrence. What was not a regular occurrence was for the conversation to be two-sided. Normally, the dreams consisted of vague references to leading an army, world domination, the resurrection of a supreme evil, you know, the sort of stuff that all megalomaniacs want. It was all highly reminiscent of things he had heard from Voldemort. Mostly, Harry didn't pay it any mind. Mostly. But last night had been different. Last night, the yellow-eyed demon had been in an oddly contemplative mood.
"I must admit," the demon had begun by saying, "I hadn't expected much from you, Harry Potter. I didn't even expect you to survive, not really, especially given that none of the others did. So when your powers didn't manifest at your twenty-second birthday, well, I figured you were a dud, but boy was I wrong. Better late than never, I always say. Must be because you're a wizard," the demon mused before shrugging his shoulders carelessly. "I'd never really thought about trying it with wizards, but when I saw your dear old mommy... well, I had to try, didn't I? What a firecracker that one was!"
Harry struggled against the invisible bonds that held him in place. He'd never really thought about it before, but this was the first time he had been restrained in any of these.. dreams, if they were even that. "You shut your filthy mouth about my mum," he snarled instead.
The demon tsked chidingly. "I see I was right in keeping a hold of you tonight. You have such an explosive temper. Lovely weather we've been having lately, by the way, downright apocalyptic," he said, giving Harry a knowing wink. "You're gathering quite a following down below, you know. They're calling you the Master of Death. Back to what I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, though... I wasn't expecting you to survive, but I suppose you do have a habit of doing so. What is it that magical folk call you again? The Boy-Who-Lived... Wizards, such extraordinarily foolish creatures. Still, I am pleased by how you've turned out. Such power... such darkness..."
Harry interrupted once more. "I am not dark!" he snapped indignantly. "And I'm not the Master of Death! Not anymore, I broke up the Deathly Hallows!"
The demon just cocked his head to the side. "Keep telling yourself that, little wizard, if it makes you feel better, but your dear old daddy knows the truth..."
Harry snorted causing the demon to a raise a sculpted brow. "As if I'd believe a lying demon..." Harry muttered.
Once again, the demon shrugged. "Believe me, don't believe me, it doesn't change the facts. Darkness had touched you in the most sacred of places... your soul."
"The Horcrux," Harry breathed, "but we - I - destroyed it!"
The demon tutted. "Like I said, wizards are such foolish creatures. Whatever are they teaching you at that fancy little school of yours? Let me teach you a little bit of The Truth About Souls 101: wizards don't have the power to destroy souls, and while we're on the subject, it's also impossible for one body to house two souls."
"But... Dumbledore said that I was housing a bit of Tom Riddle's soul! That's why I had to willingly sacrifice myself - to get rid of it!" Harry was becoming more confused than ever. If it was impossible for two souls to share the same body, and he wasn't saying he agreed with the demon although it sounded like a fairly reasonable assertion - Harry had never fully understood how he was a Horcrux in the first place - then what did that really mean?
"Ahhh," said the demon. "I can see I've piqued your interest. Back to The Truth about Souls 101, let's assume that Dumbledore was telling the truth and a portion of Tom Riddle's soul did latch onto yours, his soul, being the more powerful of the two, would have quickly overtaken yours. You wouldn't have even stood a chance, considering your age at the time... take into account the influence of my blood... well, like I said, your soul didn't stand a chance."
Horrified, Harry just stared at the demon. "I don't understand," he finally said, weakly. "How could I not have a soul?"
The demon shook his head. "I never said you didn't have a soul. That is another impossibility. You have a soul. The soul of Tom Riddle resides within you. Dumbledore was right about one thing. Horcruxes are a nasty business. Totally unpredictable... if he had known how it would turn out... well, his loss was certainly Hell's gain."
"Let's say I believe you," Harry said after a lengthy silence. "How do you explain me coming back from the dead, huh? I let Voldemort kill me. Didn't even raise my wand when he shot the Killing Curse at me. That was what destroyed that bit of his soul I was carrying around."
The demon smirked. "Afraid that was all my doing - both times. I couldn't just let you die, now could I? Especially since you have such wonderful potential..."
"I'll never use Black Magic," Harry swore hotly.
The yellow-eyed demon just gave a small shrug. "Sure, that's what they all say - at first. But you forget, Harry Potter, that I know you better than anyone else in the world. I know why it is that you hardly ever use magic anymore. I know the urges you just barely manage to suppress, the questions you ask yourself in the dead of night, that pretty little stone you keep hidden beneath your clothes... You say you broke up the Deathly Hallows. You might have, but they certainly haven't stayed broken up, have they? How many times have you tossed that stone into the woods only for it to reappear before you? Better yet, tell me, do your friends know that you chose to keep the Elder Wand? Do they know how it calls to you? How it yearns to be used? The things it whispers to you in the darkness?"
Harry's heart was pounding, his breath beginning to come in great gasps. How could he know? Harry had never told another soul! Never would tell another soul, if he could help it.
"I know you, little wizard."
The demon paused, letting his words settle uncomfortably between the two, before giving Harry an indulgent smile. "Soon, you won't be able to ignore the darkness inside. I can't predict how your powers will grow, in what ways they'll manifest, like I said, I've never tried with a wizard before, but from what I can see, your magic complicates things."
"What did you do to me?" Harry asked in a horrified whisper.
The demon winked again. "Can't tell... that would be cheating, but you're so very close. You already know where to find the answers you seek..."
Harry had awoken then, gasping for breath. He did know that he had to do: go to America, to Missouri.
He tried to ignore the demon's words but found it frightfully difficult to do so. How had he known about Harry's inner turmoil? Turmoil that had been present since he defeated Voldemort, since he became the owner of all three of the Hallows with all of the implications that that held. Dumbledore's words echoed in his head. You are the worthy possessor of the Hallows. As if there really were such a thing! As if he was worthy. How Harry hated the demon for knowing the very worst parts of him! The demon may have known some things about him, but there was no way that his soul wasn't his own! He couldn't very well trust the words of a demon, could he? Even if the reason for his continued existence made more sense than the sacrifice of his mother. Hadn't he always wondered what made him so special? Lily Potter couldn't have been the first mother to sacrifice her life for her child, and yet... Harry had lived while others hadn't.
It had taken him several long moments after waking to regain control over his breathing and put the demon's words firmly out of his mind for the moment. If he was going to go to America, he had a lot of planning to do.
The first thing he did was put in his notice at work. Unsurprisingly, this had caused major speculation amidst not only the media and the public but also amidst his friends.
"You can't mean to just drop everything and go gallivanting across America without even discussing this with us!" Hermione exclaimed when Harry told his friends about his plans. "And Xenophilius Lovegood is certainly not the most reliable source of information. You know the sort of rubbish they print in The Quibbler, Harry! For goodness sake, don't you remember what he did the last time you went to him for help!"
Harry took a deep breath. "But you're wrong. He might be a little odd, but he can be a reliable source of information. After all, he did know about the Deathly Hallows, didn't he?"
"Well, yes - "
Harry stopped her protests with a shake of his head. "This isn't really up for discussion. I'm going to America. I would like the support of my two oldest friends, but I really don't need it, you know."
A hurt look passed across Hermione's face, but it was Ron who spoke next. "We're not just your friends, Harry. We're your family, and families are supposed to stick together."
"I appreciate that, I do, but we aren't kids anymore, yeah? I don't need to discuss everything I do with you before I make a decision. You can't expect me to do that. Just like I don't expect you to. This isn't just another one of our adventures, Ron. It's something I have to do. Alone."
"How did you get so mature?" Hermione asked weakly, brushing a stray tear off of her cheek.
Harry just shrugged and pulled his friend in for a hug. He counted himself lucky to have friends like Hermione and Ron, even if they didn't always see eye and eye.
When the two friends parted, Hermione's look was one of the utmost determination.. "Alright, Harry, since you insist on going at this alone, you'll have to be really careful. Mr. Lovegood was right about not all Muggles being ignorant of the supernatural world. I've read that there are loads of hunters in America."
Harry scrunched his face in confusion. "Hunters? What are they?"
"Beats me," Ron said, his face mirroring Harry's confusion.
"They are Muggles who have taken it upon themselves to rid the world of everything they deem to be evil."
Ron looked even more confused. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"Not always," Hermione told them. "They target anything seen as supernatural, even if it isn't evil, and they don't often wait to find out if there's a difference either. And they don't much care for magic, so you'll have to be sure not to use it where anyone can see you..."
Harry groaned as Hermione went into lecture mode, but secretly, he was thankful for her help. If there was one thing Hermione was good for, it was getting things organized. By the time the three friends headed to the Burrow for Sunday dinner that afternoon, Harry had a very extensive list of everything he needed to do before leaving the country.
Author: Koinaka
Rating: PG13
Pairing(s)/Character(s) Harry, John, Bobby, Dean, Sam, Ron, Hermione, mentions of canon pairings, past Harry/Ginny, future pairing not decided
Genre: Supernatural!Crossover, AU, drama, supernatural, thriller
Spoilers: up to Season 3 for Supernatural with all mentions of Azazel and his endgame fair game.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to JK Rowling and Eric Kripke respectively.
Summary: Sam's generation of psychic kids wasn't the first. When odd things begin happening after Harry Potter's twenty-third birthday, he goes to America looking for answers.
Warning(s):
Word Count: Around 2200 words for this part.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2
Blood of the Father
By Koinaka
By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes:
Open, locks,
Whoever knocks!
MacBeth Act 4 Scene 1 Lines 44-47
Chapter Two
Water, water, everywhere but not one drop to drink!
Over the next several weeks, Harry's flat had slowly been transformed until it very much resembled Mr. Lovegood's study. Stacks of books, mostly theological texts, were littered on every available surface. Harry's desk itself was covered with scrolls of parchment and Muggle composition books that Harry used to record any information he thought might be useful. The composition books were, admittedly, relatively empty, considering how little information he had managed to procure from the magical world. The newest addition to Harry's rather cluttered desk was the large map of the United States that Harry was currently hunched over. After his meeting with Mr. Lovegood, which unsurprisingly enough left him with more questions than answers, Harry had searched for what exactly the man had meant by his statement: The road to enlightenment has many pathways, but they all pass through Missouri.
It had taken him over a week to realize why that sounded familiar to him. He remembered, albeit very vaguely, learning about Missouri during his primary school days. It was one of fifty states located within the United States. His first reaction was that obviously that had not been what Mr. Lovegood meant. Why would Harry be able to discover the truth in the United States of all places? It didn't make any sense, so he simply ignored it.
Until the previous night.
Dreaming of the yellow-eyed man, who he now highly suspected was actually a demon, had become a regular occurrence. What was not a regular occurrence was for the conversation to be two-sided. Normally, the dreams consisted of vague references to leading an army, world domination, the resurrection of a supreme evil, you know, the sort of stuff that all megalomaniacs want. It was all highly reminiscent of things he had heard from Voldemort. Mostly, Harry didn't pay it any mind. Mostly. But last night had been different. Last night, the yellow-eyed demon had been in an oddly contemplative mood.
"I must admit," the demon had begun by saying, "I hadn't expected much from you, Harry Potter. I didn't even expect you to survive, not really, especially given that none of the others did. So when your powers didn't manifest at your twenty-second birthday, well, I figured you were a dud, but boy was I wrong. Better late than never, I always say. Must be because you're a wizard," the demon mused before shrugging his shoulders carelessly. "I'd never really thought about trying it with wizards, but when I saw your dear old mommy... well, I had to try, didn't I? What a firecracker that one was!"
Harry struggled against the invisible bonds that held him in place. He'd never really thought about it before, but this was the first time he had been restrained in any of these.. dreams, if they were even that. "You shut your filthy mouth about my mum," he snarled instead.
The demon tsked chidingly. "I see I was right in keeping a hold of you tonight. You have such an explosive temper. Lovely weather we've been having lately, by the way, downright apocalyptic," he said, giving Harry a knowing wink. "You're gathering quite a following down below, you know. They're calling you the Master of Death. Back to what I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, though... I wasn't expecting you to survive, but I suppose you do have a habit of doing so. What is it that magical folk call you again? The Boy-Who-Lived... Wizards, such extraordinarily foolish creatures. Still, I am pleased by how you've turned out. Such power... such darkness..."
Harry interrupted once more. "I am not dark!" he snapped indignantly. "And I'm not the Master of Death! Not anymore, I broke up the Deathly Hallows!"
The demon just cocked his head to the side. "Keep telling yourself that, little wizard, if it makes you feel better, but your dear old daddy knows the truth..."
Harry snorted causing the demon to a raise a sculpted brow. "As if I'd believe a lying demon..." Harry muttered.
Once again, the demon shrugged. "Believe me, don't believe me, it doesn't change the facts. Darkness had touched you in the most sacred of places... your soul."
"The Horcrux," Harry breathed, "but we - I - destroyed it!"
The demon tutted. "Like I said, wizards are such foolish creatures. Whatever are they teaching you at that fancy little school of yours? Let me teach you a little bit of The Truth About Souls 101: wizards don't have the power to destroy souls, and while we're on the subject, it's also impossible for one body to house two souls."
"But... Dumbledore said that I was housing a bit of Tom Riddle's soul! That's why I had to willingly sacrifice myself - to get rid of it!" Harry was becoming more confused than ever. If it was impossible for two souls to share the same body, and he wasn't saying he agreed with the demon although it sounded like a fairly reasonable assertion - Harry had never fully understood how he was a Horcrux in the first place - then what did that really mean?
"Ahhh," said the demon. "I can see I've piqued your interest. Back to The Truth about Souls 101, let's assume that Dumbledore was telling the truth and a portion of Tom Riddle's soul did latch onto yours, his soul, being the more powerful of the two, would have quickly overtaken yours. You wouldn't have even stood a chance, considering your age at the time... take into account the influence of my blood... well, like I said, your soul didn't stand a chance."
Horrified, Harry just stared at the demon. "I don't understand," he finally said, weakly. "How could I not have a soul?"
The demon shook his head. "I never said you didn't have a soul. That is another impossibility. You have a soul. The soul of Tom Riddle resides within you. Dumbledore was right about one thing. Horcruxes are a nasty business. Totally unpredictable... if he had known how it would turn out... well, his loss was certainly Hell's gain."
"Let's say I believe you," Harry said after a lengthy silence. "How do you explain me coming back from the dead, huh? I let Voldemort kill me. Didn't even raise my wand when he shot the Killing Curse at me. That was what destroyed that bit of his soul I was carrying around."
The demon smirked. "Afraid that was all my doing - both times. I couldn't just let you die, now could I? Especially since you have such wonderful potential..."
"I'll never use Black Magic," Harry swore hotly.
The yellow-eyed demon just gave a small shrug. "Sure, that's what they all say - at first. But you forget, Harry Potter, that I know you better than anyone else in the world. I know why it is that you hardly ever use magic anymore. I know the urges you just barely manage to suppress, the questions you ask yourself in the dead of night, that pretty little stone you keep hidden beneath your clothes... You say you broke up the Deathly Hallows. You might have, but they certainly haven't stayed broken up, have they? How many times have you tossed that stone into the woods only for it to reappear before you? Better yet, tell me, do your friends know that you chose to keep the Elder Wand? Do they know how it calls to you? How it yearns to be used? The things it whispers to you in the darkness?"
Harry's heart was pounding, his breath beginning to come in great gasps. How could he know? Harry had never told another soul! Never would tell another soul, if he could help it.
"I know you, little wizard."
The demon paused, letting his words settle uncomfortably between the two, before giving Harry an indulgent smile. "Soon, you won't be able to ignore the darkness inside. I can't predict how your powers will grow, in what ways they'll manifest, like I said, I've never tried with a wizard before, but from what I can see, your magic complicates things."
"What did you do to me?" Harry asked in a horrified whisper.
The demon winked again. "Can't tell... that would be cheating, but you're so very close. You already know where to find the answers you seek..."
Harry had awoken then, gasping for breath. He did know that he had to do: go to America, to Missouri.
He tried to ignore the demon's words but found it frightfully difficult to do so. How had he known about Harry's inner turmoil? Turmoil that had been present since he defeated Voldemort, since he became the owner of all three of the Hallows with all of the implications that that held. Dumbledore's words echoed in his head. You are the worthy possessor of the Hallows. As if there really were such a thing! As if he was worthy. How Harry hated the demon for knowing the very worst parts of him! The demon may have known some things about him, but there was no way that his soul wasn't his own! He couldn't very well trust the words of a demon, could he? Even if the reason for his continued existence made more sense than the sacrifice of his mother. Hadn't he always wondered what made him so special? Lily Potter couldn't have been the first mother to sacrifice her life for her child, and yet... Harry had lived while others hadn't.
It had taken him several long moments after waking to regain control over his breathing and put the demon's words firmly out of his mind for the moment. If he was going to go to America, he had a lot of planning to do.
The first thing he did was put in his notice at work. Unsurprisingly, this had caused major speculation amidst not only the media and the public but also amidst his friends.
"You can't mean to just drop everything and go gallivanting across America without even discussing this with us!" Hermione exclaimed when Harry told his friends about his plans. "And Xenophilius Lovegood is certainly not the most reliable source of information. You know the sort of rubbish they print in The Quibbler, Harry! For goodness sake, don't you remember what he did the last time you went to him for help!"
Harry took a deep breath. "But you're wrong. He might be a little odd, but he can be a reliable source of information. After all, he did know about the Deathly Hallows, didn't he?"
"Well, yes - "
Harry stopped her protests with a shake of his head. "This isn't really up for discussion. I'm going to America. I would like the support of my two oldest friends, but I really don't need it, you know."
A hurt look passed across Hermione's face, but it was Ron who spoke next. "We're not just your friends, Harry. We're your family, and families are supposed to stick together."
"I appreciate that, I do, but we aren't kids anymore, yeah? I don't need to discuss everything I do with you before I make a decision. You can't expect me to do that. Just like I don't expect you to. This isn't just another one of our adventures, Ron. It's something I have to do. Alone."
"How did you get so mature?" Hermione asked weakly, brushing a stray tear off of her cheek.
Harry just shrugged and pulled his friend in for a hug. He counted himself lucky to have friends like Hermione and Ron, even if they didn't always see eye and eye.
When the two friends parted, Hermione's look was one of the utmost determination.. "Alright, Harry, since you insist on going at this alone, you'll have to be really careful. Mr. Lovegood was right about not all Muggles being ignorant of the supernatural world. I've read that there are loads of hunters in America."
Harry scrunched his face in confusion. "Hunters? What are they?"
"Beats me," Ron said, his face mirroring Harry's confusion.
"They are Muggles who have taken it upon themselves to rid the world of everything they deem to be evil."
Ron looked even more confused. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"Not always," Hermione told them. "They target anything seen as supernatural, even if it isn't evil, and they don't often wait to find out if there's a difference either. And they don't much care for magic, so you'll have to be sure not to use it where anyone can see you..."
Harry groaned as Hermione went into lecture mode, but secretly, he was thankful for her help. If there was one thing Hermione was good for, it was getting things organized. By the time the three friends headed to the Burrow for Sunday dinner that afternoon, Harry had a very extensive list of everything he needed to do before leaving the country.