[Fic] HP/SPN Crossover - Subtle Shining Sorceries - Chapter Two
Title: Subtle Shining Sorceries
Author: Stolen Childe
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the boys. I just like to play with them.
Author’s Notes: See previous parts for warnings and ratings. All right, so this chapter doesn’t have a terrible amount of kickass action in it that not really to sort of writer I am. There is action coming though, no worries just not yet. I’m actually kinda pleased with this chapter. Here we get a better and closer look at the HP boys and I hope you are pleased with the characterization. I knew a few of the readers were a little uncertain about them. Also, to anyone who I didn’t get to respond to, thank you so much for reviewing! It really helps me to continue posting when I know there’s people who want to read it. Also thanks so much for those who are reading this on FF.net who are putting me and this story on their favourites and watch lists. I really appreciate it!
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Chapter Two - Wherein domestic bliss is completely un-blissfull...
It took maybe ten minutes or so for Sam and Dean to jointly complete a very truncated version of what led them to be at the morgue on that particular day. Both Malfoy and Potter looked contemplative, not saying a word. Malfoy was twirling his wand round and round in front of him, elbows rested on the arm rests as he looked not at, but through the Winchesters. Potter sat with his fingers drumming as he stared intently at Dean’s boots.
A clatter came at the door startling all four men. Potter and Malfoy jumped up.
“Bugger, out of time,” Potter proclaimed. “We aren’t done. They’re coming with us.”
“Coming with us? Potter are you mad? We should be Obliviating them right here, not inviting them home for tea!” Malfoy exclaimed glaring at the smaller man.
Potter glared right back, “Sure thing Malfoy, you distract the firing squad while I do that. It’s not a thirty second job you well know!”
Sam shared the nervous look Dean stole at the door when the heard a hell of a lot of banging.
Dean looked up at the two strange men, “Look Betty, Veronica, could you make a decision
already?! Sammy and I are kinda tied up at the moment, and we’re running out of time.”
Potter looked very pointedly at Malfoy. Malfoy rolled his eyes but nodded. A few wand flicks and all the detritus was cleared from the room, except for the unconscious Ezekiel Gulch.
“I’ll take floppy you take his pit bull,” Malfoy indicated with his head that he meant Sam and Dean respectively.
Potter looked grateful, “Thanks. I’m good, but side along apparition is difficult enough without an extra hundred pounds and nine inches.”
Sam and Dean were still recovering from the memory dump, feeling a little foggy and disoriented.
“Right, this is going to get uncomfortable,” Potter said almost apologetically as he approached Dean’s side.
“And I imagine you’ll wake up with a bugger of headache,” Malfoy grinned just this side of maliciously as he neared Sam.
Despite the fog in their heads and the walking through honey feeling of their limbs, the brothers both put up a weak struggle as the strange men approached.
“Seriously, don’t struggle,” Potter warned.
“Yeah, we don’t know how to put Humpty Muggle back together again once he tumbles from the wall,” Malfoy smirked.
Potter looked at Malfoy, his expression showing both disbelief and annoyance at the same time, “Really? Nursery Rhymes?”
“What you really think that old biddy could have been a muggle with a name like Mother Goose?” Malfoy replied.
“Full of surprises today,” Harry shook his head.
Malfoy grinned, “Just you wait Potter. All right, onward.” He swooped down and lifted Sam to his feet easily. Potter bent and retrieved Dean with a little more effort. The two strange men turned on the spot with their individual burdens. Sam felt like his insides were trying to be squeezed out his belly button and that was all he remembered for the next several hours.
_*_
Harry stared at the slumbering muggles on the cots they had set up in an abandoned muggle home. It had been carefully warded and guarded. Malfoy was over at the crumbling hearth tinkering with it in an effort to establish a long distance floo network to communicate with back home. From the assorted curses it wasn’t going well.
Harry recognized the symbol on Bean’s chest instantly from his studies and Malfoy concurred with his summation. It was a rune used in the transference of magical energy, the likes of which had not been seen in centuries. It was dark, wicked stuff and also extremely volatile. From what Malfoy told Harry he gathered, whoever was perpetrating these killings was doing so in order to perform a ritual that was purported to cause invisibility, only at the small price of one’s soul of course.
That explained the location, the castor needed blood and bone of thirty condemned witches in order to succeed he also needed about two dozen sycophants and most importantly the magic essence of nine souls. Nine very special souls. The Ninth Son of a family line. Three men in the twilight of their lives, three men in the prime of their lives and three men in the dawn of their lives. According to Draco, it didn’t matter in which order the men were taken but many preferred to go young, middle, old. Old, middle, young. Middle, old, young. The last typically a very young wizard who has yet to reach sexual maturity. There by completing the symmetry of the spell but never repeating the pattern. Bean had been north of sixty, Malfoy estimated three to eight victims, so far.
Harry decided it was time to get down to some intense research. The Ameri-Magic Senate hadn’t really provided them with a wealth of information and they definitely needed more to go on. But these men, these self-titled Hunters may be of use. If what they were telling was true they were akin to the crack Auror team of the United States, minus the magic of course. And Harry knew for a fact that what they had said was true. It was his spell, one he had invented himself with the help of Hermione that had yet to fail him in his five years of using it. Draco had dubbed it verbal veritaserum, but more effective and without all the added bother of asking questions.
A high pitched squealed “Daddy!” came from the sitting room and Harry smiling knowing that meant that Malfoy got the floo working. Of course the first person he would firecall was his six-year-old son. As soon as Malfoy was done Harry vowed to call his own three children then report to the Ministry. He assumed they would have to get permission to work with the muggles but Harry had become rather good at persuading the Head Auror. Malfoy had constantly informed him with no little amusement that was his Slytherin side kicking in. Harry supposed it was true. Ron always got uncomfortable when Harry employed his powers of persuasion. “That’s just freaky mate,” Ron would say with wide blue eyes before turning back to whatever task they had on hand.
Harry sighed, he should give Ron and Hermione a call as well. See how the baby was doing. Well he supposed not really a baby any longer, Hugo was very nearly four just like his own Lily, but Hugo had come down with Dragon Pox not too long ago and he knew both his best friends had been extremely worried about their only son.
Malfoy came into the room with a goofy grin on his face, which he quickly schooled to his more familiar mask of general contempt for the world. Harry rolled his eyes.
“Floo’s up,” Malfoy said needlessly. “I’ll watch the muggles. You go make your calls. And I warn you Potter, if by the time you get back you don’t give me a good reason not to wipe their minds clean then I’ll do it with or without your permission.”
Harry nodded, “Fine.” He was just about to leave the room when he turned back and said warningly, “Be nice.”
Malfoy scoffed, “They’re unconscious Potter, really what could I do?”
“So very much,” Harry said darkly shaking his head, before exiting the room against his better judgement.
Harry threw the powder in the flames and watched them spark green then blue before settling into a deep violet, “Hello?”
He heard trampling little boy feet and saw the green eyes and round bright face of his six-year-old appear in the flames, “Hi Dad!”
“’Lo Al, how’s it going?” Harry asked.
“Good, how’s America? Do the wizards really say all their spells in English? Does it sound funny? Is it hot there? We have rain. Did you catch the bad guy yet?” Albus asked in one long rush.
Harry let him ramble as his small son was wont to do, when there was an opening he said, “Haven’t actually met any American wizards yet. There was one British one, but he wasn’t on our side. We’ve only been here a few hours so we are still carrying on our reconnaissance. How’s it at your mum’s?”
He watched Albus shift uncomfortably as Harry referred to his soon to be ex-wife.
“Um... Patrick Pinkett is here,” Albus glanced to the side, and Harry knew it was in the direction of Ginny’s sitting room.
“Ah... good ol’ Paddy,” Harry said tightly. It hadn’t really been a messy break-up per say, both Ginny and Harry had just quickly come to the conclusion that a love match they were not. It was more falling in line to what was expected of them. Something Harry had been unfortunately doing his entire life and also a habit he vowed to break.
Ron had confessed, much to Harry’s surprise, upon learning of the split that he was a bit relieved. He always found the thought of his best mate with his little sister a bit uncomfortable. Though three wonderful by-products of the happy-marriage-that-wasn’t, were Harry’s children.
“S’all right,” Albus shrugged.
“Your brother and sister around?” Harry asked, knowing a united front in the face of Pinkett would improve his son’s demeanour.
“Nah. James is at Uncle George’s and Lily is over at Uncle Ron’s,” Albus shrugged.
“Why didn’t you go to one of your Uncles’?” Harry asked with concern.
“You know I’m useless with all that joke stuff,” Al shrugged. “And Lily and Rose always do girly stuff, Hugo’s too young still to be any fun.”
Harry heard Ginny’s voice faintly in the background and smiled sadly.
“Got to go Dad, supper’s on,” Al said hurriedly.
Harry nodded, “All right, love you.”
“Love you,” Albus said back as he scrambled to his feet and ended the firecall.
Harry sat there a moment before reaching for the floo powder again to make his call to the Ministry. Draco came and interrupted before Harry could toss the powder in the hearth.
“They’re waking,” Malfoy informed him.
“Right,” Harry nodded and pushed himself to his feet, wincing as his knee cracked. The ministry could wait.
“You don’t look pleased Potter,” Malfoy commented.
“It’s nothing. How’re Scorpius and Astoria?” Harry quickly asked, before Malfoy could pry.
“Scorpius is brilliant and I image my charming wife is off gallivanting around France or California at the moment quite content. Haven’t heard much from her in a few months now,” Malfoy shrugged.
Harry looked confused, “But...”
“Scorpius is at my mother’s and father’s currently,” Malfoy explained. “I imagine he’s getting calls or owls from his mother, I don’t really care to ask.”
“Oh,” was all Harry managed. He supposed his wasn’t the only marriage that was less than harmonious. Maybe the throw-away queer comment from earlier that day had more meaning that Harry originally thought. He looked at Draco appraisingly for a moment and shrugged.
“Well shall we see what our two dear muggles have to say?” Malfoy opened the door to the room where they were keeping the men and stepped aside, gesturing for Harry to go first.
Harry put a hand out to Draco, “Look, Malfoy. I don’t really have a good reason to not Obliviate them. I know it’s the thing to do, I went to Auror camp as well… But these guys, these Winchesters… I think there’s more to them than meets the eye and I think… they may be of use. The Ameri-Magic Senate didn’t give us much and these men seem to know their way around the supernatural. We could…”
Malfoy waited than raised a brow, “What use them? Do my ears deceive me or did the Great Harry Potter just suggest we use human beings… for our personal gain no less? How exactly do you suggest we keep them here?”
Harry’s look was pointed, “Magic Malfoy.’
Draco shook his head, “My word, if I hadn’t just heard it myself... Not only to you want to manipulate and use the muggles you also want to hold them prisoner? I suppose I’ve always given you less credit as a Slytherin than you deserve.”
Harry waited, not really needing the taller man’s approval but a part of him he wasn’t quite ready to explore felt he needed it, his patience was wearing thin though, waiting for a response, “Well?”
Draco’s gaze swept over Harry’s face, quick and calculating, “They can keep their memories for a little while yet. It isn’t a horrid plan as plans go. I’m sure they have more information about the location than we do anyway. They get too much to handle though…”
Harry nodded, “Right, we Obliviate their memories, of course. But really? What trouble could two American muggles cause?”
“I can’t disagree there,” Malfoy begrudgingly nodded.
Of course Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy didn’t know Dean and Sam Winchester.
Chapter Three