SPNL/HP: Belenus (1/1)
TITLE: Belenus(1/1)
FANDOM: Supernatural, vague Potterverse
SUMMARY: After Athena. (Wayyyy back in 2010.)
WARNING: Here I kind of went crazy, again.
CHARACTERS: A young Winchester, a friend in the making, and an old wizard that's partially death.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural. I am not Kripke. I do not own Hogwarts or the Potterverse magic system. I am not JK Rowling.
NOTES: I totally own this idea. It's freaking awesome. Big Awe, little some. :) <- This totally still applies ;)
Still totally unbeta'd.
I started this in 2011, finished it today. I just really felt like posting a story before my Grandmother's funeral tonight. I need my mind on other things. Writing has usually helped :)
Just a little after 5 years, here's some more Spnl/HP crossover. :) Enjoy. Love you guys!!
"So, you're really leaving?"
John frowned at his backpack, where he was packing up the few possessions that he had. Mostly underwear and an old picture of when he had family.
"I don't know. Probably."
There was two days until September the first. That was when, according to pretty creepy letters delivered by owl and cat, the school year would begin. As a wizard.
John considered it a moment of temporary weakness as he had written back a reply and sent the two animals going. Or rather, watched as the two headed out the window and seemingly disappeared.
And no one, not one of the dozens of kids that had been playing outside, had noticed.
It would be the coolest thing ever, John thought, for a moment, having magic and being a wizard. What ten year old boy wouldn't want that?
But John knew a little more than the other boys. Even though John Winchester had never seen magic or anything like that, he had heard stories.
Stories from his father, Frederick Jean Winchester, who had lived in Louisiana most of his life and had, apparently, gone to a wizard school in his own youth.
Paul looked over the paper in his hands. John was watching his friend out of the corner of his eye. Paul was frowning and he had already read over the letter about a dozen times. John had told Paul, his best friend, about the letter during lunch - which had been the only time that John had been allowed to leave 'his' room after being confined to it for having fought with a boy.
Truth was, John needed proof that the letter was legit, and not just some creation of his mind. He heard that solitary could do those kinds of things to a man.
When Paul had read it, he'd dropped onto the bed and reread the letter. Then John had told his friend that he had accepted, and Paul had shaken his head.
"This is insane."
"You're telling me!"
"Guess that means that cat of yours was real too, huh?"
John rolled his eyes. He zipped up his bag and sat beside his friend.
"Funny."
That's what John liked about Paul. He didn't think that John was crazy, or that he really was the Winchester Wacko that all the other kids said about him. In fact, Paul had said that he thought he might have seen something too, that night his parents died. No one took his too seriously, what with his losing both of his parents, anyone's memories could be jacked up, but John knew better. What Paul had said, about his dad and how his eyes had darkened, John knew in his gut that something like that could happen.
He just didn't really know.
"So, think you can turn Zimmerman into like a pig or something?"
"I was thinking, a donkey!" John smiled, laughing at the thought. Karl Zimmerman, the boy he had punch and gotten sent to his room for, was such a jackass. He deserved to live the rest of his life warning other of the 'donkey' he was.
"Man, that would be awesome."
They laughed, but John soon shook his head.
"Nah, I can't do anything!" John sighed. "If this is real, they've probably got the wrong guy!"
"You said they mentioned your dad, and your mom, were both witches. They can't be that far off!"
John shook his head again. He wanted to believe what Paul said, but he was trying to think rationally, something his teachers hated about him. It wasn't his fault he was outsmarting the public school system.
"Paulie, look at me, I'm no wizard!"
"They sent you an owl, man, a trained one!"
John nodded at that. Athena had been quite the clincher in his trying to disbelieve the letters. For a whole month practically, she had come by and stared at him, trying to get him to read the letter. But the fact of the matter was, it creep Johnny out. The letter wasn't just addressed to him. It was addressed to him at the exact location that he was when the letter arrived. In bed, in the bathroom, under the oak tree, etc. More than once, John had run in the other direction of Athena's approach, or whoever she had gotten to get the letter to him.
"How am I even supposed to get there, huh? It's two days from now! And I'm stuck here, in freaking Indiana!"
"By magic?" Paul said. John groaned.
"But I don't have magic! And as soon as I get there, they're going to see me and know!"
"If you get there!" Paul pointed out.
"Yeah."
"So, you actually believe that these places exist?"
John frowned. Did he believe in magic? He had certainly heard enough crazy things while he had been growing up, that he believed such a thing could be possible. But, that was stories and movies and over five years ago when he was still someone's son and someone's brother.
Five years, three months five days.
Now, John wasn't so sure.
"Might as well," he smiled. "If it gets me out of this place."
Paul was lucky. Sort of.
Paul Loggins was like John, in that he was an orphan. Paul's parents had died recently though, only a month back. And that made Paul the newest kid there. It had been years since John had had a friend in another kid, his old friend Jacob Jefferson, had a tendency to get into trouble - even in nowhere Indiana - and was currently in juvie. Again.
But Paul was lucky, because he had an uncle, Roger, who was trying to get him. He lived out of state, and apparently he no longer lived with his life and kids, but he was still a pretty decent guy. At least, John thought so, if the guy was fighting to have his nephew with him. Not many people would do that, John knew. In fact, his own family hadn't stepped up when he and his brother had been made orphans. Sure, there were those cousins, over in Indianapolis, that had tolerated them for the first couple of months, but when a guardian hadn’t been named, they had handed John and his brother over to the state.
And now here John was.
"Write me, okay? About, like your spells and stuff. That's going to be so amazing! I have to admit-
"Envious, are you?" teased John.
"You're like Merlin!" Paul's eyes got big then, and John sighed, just knowing his friend was going to say something ridiculous. "I could be Arthur."
"Doubtful."
Paul stood, now in his own world.
"I could be," he paused, taking a stance on - what John presumed- an imaginary rock with one foot up and a hand against his raised knee. "The Future King of England."
"All hail, the king of the Clowns!"
Paul turned and glared at a now laughing John.
"You! You dare laugh at the King! To the torture chamber!"
"I'm already here here!"
Paul sighed as John laughed harder.
"Think of it, you and me! We could take over!"
"You're going to be with your uncle Roger, and I'm going to be long gone by then." John said, finally regaining his composure.
"You can send me an owl!" Paul's eyes got wide in excitement. "My very own, Owl Mail. Groovy."
By nighttime, John was thinking that however he was supposed to get to the school, he was never going to make it.
First, he had to find a way to get out of the group home. Then, he had to find a way to get out of Indiana, and travel.
Lastly, he had to find out where the heck the school even was.
Who was he kidding?! There was no way that he was going to be leaving, just like there was no way that he was a wizard!
He was a nobody. John Winchester, doomed to go through history anonymous.
He was lying awake, hours after all the others in the room, and likely all of Indiana, had gone to sleep. That's when he heard it.
Instantly, his eyes flew opened and his whole body tensed. John could tell that the other boys were still sleeping, and they had definitely heard nothing. But to his ears, it had been an almost deafening pop in the silence around them.
“Ah!” and deep voice gripped. “Don’t try faking yer sleep! I know yer awake!”
Slowly, John started to sit up and leaned onto his elbows. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A man was standing in the center of the room. The door was still closed and the windows locked down for the night.
How had he gotten in?
“How did you-
“Shh!” came the old man’s quick command. “On yer feet! Don’t have all the time of the youth!”
John frowned.
“Who are you?” he groaned instead.
“Belenus Byron Beowolf Barric Bernard Belden Benedict, at yer service,” the man stepped forward, his hand extended in greeting.
“Right,” John reached a tentive hand towards him. “Still have no idea who you are, or why you’re here. I’m not going anywhere with you Mr. Benedict, sir.”
“That’s jist fine,” the old man grumbled. He pulled off his glasses and cleaned them against his old sweater. “I s’pposed yer entitled ta yer own means. I do s’pposed ye got another way ta get yerself ta school then, right?”
John cringed.
“You’re from Hogwarts?” John whispered, his voice barely audible.
“Huh?” Belenus Benedict frowned.
“You’re from Hogwarts?” repeated John, his voice slightly louder.
“Speak up, boy! What are ye, whisperin ta yer dead?”
“What?” it was John’s turn to frown.
“Speak up!!”
“Are You From Hogwarts?!” John leaned forward, his dark hair falling into his eyes.
“Have I got some warts?” Belenus raised his eyebrow. “What an odd question, lad.”
“HOGWARTS!” John yelled out. “Are you from -
“Hogwarts?” Belenus nodded. “Ah, yes. That makes much more sense!
“Indeed, I come fer ye from Hogwarts. I intend ta get ye ta yer train on time, if ever ye get yer lazy arsed self from yer bed and get ta going! Move on, now!”
John sighed. He slowly moved out of his bed. He grabbed his sneakers from under his bed and slipped them on. He was still in pajama pants, but he pulled a sweater on top of his tee. He was feeling mostly warm enough, but the nights were plenty cold in Indiana. Not to mention, he was going to be going to Europe! It was much colder there.
Tugging his packed backpack out from under his bed, John pulled an envelope out of the front pocket before shoulder it. He took a longing look at the envelope, knowing the letter he had folded and placed inside.
It had been a bit of an afterthought, but John had figured that he would have to sneak out eventually from the place. He really didn’t need the police after him.
John moved to leave the envelope on the dresser beside his bed.
“What is that ye got?”
“It’s a letter, for the social worker, so that Mrs. Smulders doesn’t send the police after me.”
Belenus shook his head.
“No need fer it!” Belenus snatched the letter and stuffed it into his coat pocket. “Get ye covered there, lad.”
“How?” John turned and asked him.
Belenus winked at him. “Magic, a course!”
“Of course,” John frowned. He wasn’t a fan of magic. Magic is what got his parents killed. No one had told him this, of course, but John had known.
His parents had been different. They hadn’t practiced magic, but they had known. They told John and his brother all kinds of stories. His brother, being older, had to have known more. Maybe he even knew the truth. John had never gotten a chance to ask him.
“Ye ready, lad?” the old man bent down low enough that John could see the dark specs in among the green irises.
John took a deep breath. Only Paul would know where he was. Paul was his only friend, and had he not had an uncle looking out for him, John would have found a way to get his friend out of there. He hoped Paul was safe. Maybe he would send his friend an owl.
He would have to find out where Roger Singer lived first though.
John met Belenus’ eyes with his own determined green ones.
“Ready.”
Belenus gave him a nod. He held out his hand again, and this time, John took it. The man’s grip was strong. Stronger than what John had expected from the elderly elder. He wouldn’t be surprised if the man was in his eighties or older. But he held himself straight and he kept his fine, white hair well kept. The fine lines on his face were as much from age as experience. John might not trust the man yet, but he trusted him enough to get him to Hogwarts.
“Hold on ta yer dinna,” came Belenus’ warning. And with a tightening against the very atmosphere around then, John Winchester left the Singleton Home for Boys & Girls, left Indiana, and left the great continent of the United States for parts unknown with a strong resounding POP.
FANDOM: Supernatural, vague Potterverse
SUMMARY: After Athena. (Wayyyy back in 2010.)
WARNING: Here I kind of went crazy, again.
CHARACTERS: A young Winchester, a friend in the making, and an old wizard that's partially death.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Supernatural. I am not Kripke. I do not own Hogwarts or the Potterverse magic system. I am not JK Rowling.
NOTES: I totally own this idea. It's freaking awesome. Big Awe, little some. :) <- This totally still applies ;)
Still totally unbeta'd.
I started this in 2011, finished it today. I just really felt like posting a story before my Grandmother's funeral tonight. I need my mind on other things. Writing has usually helped :)
Just a little after 5 years, here's some more Spnl/HP crossover. :) Enjoy. Love you guys!!
"So, you're really leaving?"
John frowned at his backpack, where he was packing up the few possessions that he had. Mostly underwear and an old picture of when he had family.
"I don't know. Probably."
There was two days until September the first. That was when, according to pretty creepy letters delivered by owl and cat, the school year would begin. As a wizard.
John considered it a moment of temporary weakness as he had written back a reply and sent the two animals going. Or rather, watched as the two headed out the window and seemingly disappeared.
And no one, not one of the dozens of kids that had been playing outside, had noticed.
It would be the coolest thing ever, John thought, for a moment, having magic and being a wizard. What ten year old boy wouldn't want that?
But John knew a little more than the other boys. Even though John Winchester had never seen magic or anything like that, he had heard stories.
Stories from his father, Frederick Jean Winchester, who had lived in Louisiana most of his life and had, apparently, gone to a wizard school in his own youth.
Paul looked over the paper in his hands. John was watching his friend out of the corner of his eye. Paul was frowning and he had already read over the letter about a dozen times. John had told Paul, his best friend, about the letter during lunch - which had been the only time that John had been allowed to leave 'his' room after being confined to it for having fought with a boy.
Truth was, John needed proof that the letter was legit, and not just some creation of his mind. He heard that solitary could do those kinds of things to a man.
When Paul had read it, he'd dropped onto the bed and reread the letter. Then John had told his friend that he had accepted, and Paul had shaken his head.
"This is insane."
"You're telling me!"
"Guess that means that cat of yours was real too, huh?"
John rolled his eyes. He zipped up his bag and sat beside his friend.
"Funny."
That's what John liked about Paul. He didn't think that John was crazy, or that he really was the Winchester Wacko that all the other kids said about him. In fact, Paul had said that he thought he might have seen something too, that night his parents died. No one took his too seriously, what with his losing both of his parents, anyone's memories could be jacked up, but John knew better. What Paul had said, about his dad and how his eyes had darkened, John knew in his gut that something like that could happen.
He just didn't really know.
"So, think you can turn Zimmerman into like a pig or something?"
"I was thinking, a donkey!" John smiled, laughing at the thought. Karl Zimmerman, the boy he had punch and gotten sent to his room for, was such a jackass. He deserved to live the rest of his life warning other of the 'donkey' he was.
"Man, that would be awesome."
They laughed, but John soon shook his head.
"Nah, I can't do anything!" John sighed. "If this is real, they've probably got the wrong guy!"
"You said they mentioned your dad, and your mom, were both witches. They can't be that far off!"
John shook his head again. He wanted to believe what Paul said, but he was trying to think rationally, something his teachers hated about him. It wasn't his fault he was outsmarting the public school system.
"Paulie, look at me, I'm no wizard!"
"They sent you an owl, man, a trained one!"
John nodded at that. Athena had been quite the clincher in his trying to disbelieve the letters. For a whole month practically, she had come by and stared at him, trying to get him to read the letter. But the fact of the matter was, it creep Johnny out. The letter wasn't just addressed to him. It was addressed to him at the exact location that he was when the letter arrived. In bed, in the bathroom, under the oak tree, etc. More than once, John had run in the other direction of Athena's approach, or whoever she had gotten to get the letter to him.
"How am I even supposed to get there, huh? It's two days from now! And I'm stuck here, in freaking Indiana!"
"By magic?" Paul said. John groaned.
"But I don't have magic! And as soon as I get there, they're going to see me and know!"
"If you get there!" Paul pointed out.
"Yeah."
"So, you actually believe that these places exist?"
John frowned. Did he believe in magic? He had certainly heard enough crazy things while he had been growing up, that he believed such a thing could be possible. But, that was stories and movies and over five years ago when he was still someone's son and someone's brother.
Five years, three months five days.
Now, John wasn't so sure.
"Might as well," he smiled. "If it gets me out of this place."
Paul was lucky. Sort of.
Paul Loggins was like John, in that he was an orphan. Paul's parents had died recently though, only a month back. And that made Paul the newest kid there. It had been years since John had had a friend in another kid, his old friend Jacob Jefferson, had a tendency to get into trouble - even in nowhere Indiana - and was currently in juvie. Again.
But Paul was lucky, because he had an uncle, Roger, who was trying to get him. He lived out of state, and apparently he no longer lived with his life and kids, but he was still a pretty decent guy. At least, John thought so, if the guy was fighting to have his nephew with him. Not many people would do that, John knew. In fact, his own family hadn't stepped up when he and his brother had been made orphans. Sure, there were those cousins, over in Indianapolis, that had tolerated them for the first couple of months, but when a guardian hadn’t been named, they had handed John and his brother over to the state.
And now here John was.
"Write me, okay? About, like your spells and stuff. That's going to be so amazing! I have to admit-
"Envious, are you?" teased John.
"You're like Merlin!" Paul's eyes got big then, and John sighed, just knowing his friend was going to say something ridiculous. "I could be Arthur."
"Doubtful."
Paul stood, now in his own world.
"I could be," he paused, taking a stance on - what John presumed- an imaginary rock with one foot up and a hand against his raised knee. "The Future King of England."
"All hail, the king of the Clowns!"
Paul turned and glared at a now laughing John.
"You! You dare laugh at the King! To the torture chamber!"
"I'm already here here!"
Paul sighed as John laughed harder.
"Think of it, you and me! We could take over!"
"You're going to be with your uncle Roger, and I'm going to be long gone by then." John said, finally regaining his composure.
"You can send me an owl!" Paul's eyes got wide in excitement. "My very own, Owl Mail. Groovy."
By nighttime, John was thinking that however he was supposed to get to the school, he was never going to make it.
First, he had to find a way to get out of the group home. Then, he had to find a way to get out of Indiana, and travel.
Lastly, he had to find out where the heck the school even was.
Who was he kidding?! There was no way that he was going to be leaving, just like there was no way that he was a wizard!
He was a nobody. John Winchester, doomed to go through history anonymous.
He was lying awake, hours after all the others in the room, and likely all of Indiana, had gone to sleep. That's when he heard it.
Instantly, his eyes flew opened and his whole body tensed. John could tell that the other boys were still sleeping, and they had definitely heard nothing. But to his ears, it had been an almost deafening pop in the silence around them.
“Ah!” and deep voice gripped. “Don’t try faking yer sleep! I know yer awake!”
Slowly, John started to sit up and leaned onto his elbows. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A man was standing in the center of the room. The door was still closed and the windows locked down for the night.
How had he gotten in?
“How did you-
“Shh!” came the old man’s quick command. “On yer feet! Don’t have all the time of the youth!”
John frowned.
“Who are you?” he groaned instead.
“Belenus Byron Beowolf Barric Bernard Belden Benedict, at yer service,” the man stepped forward, his hand extended in greeting.
“Right,” John reached a tentive hand towards him. “Still have no idea who you are, or why you’re here. I’m not going anywhere with you Mr. Benedict, sir.”
“That’s jist fine,” the old man grumbled. He pulled off his glasses and cleaned them against his old sweater. “I s’pposed yer entitled ta yer own means. I do s’pposed ye got another way ta get yerself ta school then, right?”
John cringed.
“You’re from Hogwarts?” John whispered, his voice barely audible.
“Huh?” Belenus Benedict frowned.
“You’re from Hogwarts?” repeated John, his voice slightly louder.
“Speak up, boy! What are ye, whisperin ta yer dead?”
“What?” it was John’s turn to frown.
“Speak up!!”
“Are You From Hogwarts?!” John leaned forward, his dark hair falling into his eyes.
“Have I got some warts?” Belenus raised his eyebrow. “What an odd question, lad.”
“HOGWARTS!” John yelled out. “Are you from -
“Hogwarts?” Belenus nodded. “Ah, yes. That makes much more sense!
“Indeed, I come fer ye from Hogwarts. I intend ta get ye ta yer train on time, if ever ye get yer lazy arsed self from yer bed and get ta going! Move on, now!”
John sighed. He slowly moved out of his bed. He grabbed his sneakers from under his bed and slipped them on. He was still in pajama pants, but he pulled a sweater on top of his tee. He was feeling mostly warm enough, but the nights were plenty cold in Indiana. Not to mention, he was going to be going to Europe! It was much colder there.
Tugging his packed backpack out from under his bed, John pulled an envelope out of the front pocket before shoulder it. He took a longing look at the envelope, knowing the letter he had folded and placed inside.
It had been a bit of an afterthought, but John had figured that he would have to sneak out eventually from the place. He really didn’t need the police after him.
John moved to leave the envelope on the dresser beside his bed.
“What is that ye got?”
“It’s a letter, for the social worker, so that Mrs. Smulders doesn’t send the police after me.”
Belenus shook his head.
“No need fer it!” Belenus snatched the letter and stuffed it into his coat pocket. “Get ye covered there, lad.”
“How?” John turned and asked him.
Belenus winked at him. “Magic, a course!”
“Of course,” John frowned. He wasn’t a fan of magic. Magic is what got his parents killed. No one had told him this, of course, but John had known.
His parents had been different. They hadn’t practiced magic, but they had known. They told John and his brother all kinds of stories. His brother, being older, had to have known more. Maybe he even knew the truth. John had never gotten a chance to ask him.
“Ye ready, lad?” the old man bent down low enough that John could see the dark specs in among the green irises.
John took a deep breath. Only Paul would know where he was. Paul was his only friend, and had he not had an uncle looking out for him, John would have found a way to get his friend out of there. He hoped Paul was safe. Maybe he would send his friend an owl.
He would have to find out where Roger Singer lived first though.
John met Belenus’ eyes with his own determined green ones.
“Ready.”
Belenus gave him a nod. He held out his hand again, and this time, John took it. The man’s grip was strong. Stronger than what John had expected from the elderly elder. He wouldn’t be surprised if the man was in his eighties or older. But he held himself straight and he kept his fine, white hair well kept. The fine lines on his face were as much from age as experience. John might not trust the man yet, but he trusted him enough to get him to Hogwarts.
“Hold on ta yer dinna,” came Belenus’ warning. And with a tightening against the very atmosphere around then, John Winchester left the Singleton Home for Boys & Girls, left Indiana, and left the great continent of the United States for parts unknown with a strong resounding POP.