Harry Winchester

Cedric was excited for the ‘Weighing of the Wands’ ceremony. His father would be there, it’d be the first time he’d seen him since he was chosen. Plus, hell b in the Prophet! If he’d made a bucket list before, that’ve been on it. He’d also hadn’t had a chance to talk to any of the other champions yet, so he made it his goal to get to know them a little.

When he arrived, Delacour was busy being interviewed and Krum already has his, so he struck up a conversation with him, want everyday you got to have a conversation with a professional quidditch player, and though he doesn’t want to go pro, he’d like to win next year, as it will be his last chance to get Hufflepuff the quidditch cup.

His mind strayed to the last champion as he talked, the one who hadn’t showed yet, Harry had been a bull these past weeks since the choosing ceremony, having, from what he heard, barely spoken to anyone that wasn’t named ‘Hermione’ or ‘Ron.’ If Cedric was being honest, the sheer amount of anger he’d been radiating had scared him a bit, making him hope there wasn’t any dueling-based tasks.

His pondering was interrupted by the man of the hour, guided by Percy Weasley, Harry Potter demanded attention. Because it was the weekend, Harry hadn’t been wearing robes, Cedric would’ve thought he would’ve seeing as every other champion had put on their fanciest robes, instead he was wearing a pair of beat-up jeans, a band t-shirt, a flannel, and an old leather jacket. Cedric thought he saw Harry wearing these types of around, but he’d never gotten a good look before.

His hair was cut shorter then last year, he noticed, still a mess, but less-so. Due to this, the missing chunk of his ear was on display, this combined with the Lichtenburg scar that use to be hidden by his hair but is now showing, and the dark bags under his eyes, he looked more like a haunted war veteran then a fourteen-year-old.

Before he could speak, Rita Speaker charged back into the room, followed by a slightly disgruntled Delacour.

“Oh! If it isn’t Harry Potter! I simply must get a word with you!”

Before Harry could respond he’d been whisked away into another room by her. Delacour joined them in small talk before while they waited for Harry to be done, though she was notably quieter.

He jumped when heard the door slam, whipping his head towards it, he heard the end of Harry yelling, “YOU FLEA RIDDEN GOSSIPING RETCH!” Before he joined the other champions, though he refused speak when Cedric asked what happened.

They then turned back to the door where Ms. Skeeter was walking in, looking furious. Stopping just inside it, she called, “Cedric Diggory! Your turn.”

-----

Ron couldn’t believe what he was reading, “you called her an attention whore?!”

Harry, who had been eating, as they had begun to eat meals in the boys dorm, “She was lying on her article. Saying I was a scared child whimpering about my dead parents. She is an attention whore.”

Ron was grinning until he spotted Hermione giving him a reproaching glare, then he quickly changed it to a disappointed frown.

“Harry! You can’t just say that to her!”

Harry looked affronted, “But she is one!”

“That is irrelevant! She’s the media! She has control of how the public sees you! You can’t just insult her!”

Harry didn’t seem to have a response to that, grumbling into his sandwich.

A few minutes of silence passed as they ate, before Hermione spoke again, “We should focus on utility spells. You are already proficient with most of the important combat ones like Reducto and Protego, and you know enough of the niche ones like Avis and Ascendio, but your lacking a few ones I have found, like Incarcerous and Sonorus. The rope conjuring spell and the voice amplifying spell.”

Harry nodded, though he didn’t seem too thrilled, and Ron could physically feel his free time being torn away from him.

_____

Dean was feeling a little lost when they left the hospital with empty hands. Sam had said that it had already been a day longer than it should’ve found its next target, yet no new children were admitted. And seeing as the rest of the kids were still kicking, the Shtriga couldn’t be finished.

Dean had wanted to stay as long as they could, but they’d been kicked out when visitation hours were finished, and if they had tried to use the ‘I’m CDC’ argument, they would have had to look like they were actually the CDC for more than a few minutes, which, for obvious reasons they couldn’t.

So, they had to leave at 12 o’clock with their tails between their legs, vowing to return next morning to see if anything changed.

This had forced him to think about the topic that he’d been avoiding.

Harry.

God, what were they gonna do with him.

He turned to look at Sam, then thought, ‘Well, I have one freak, what’s one more?’ He tried to leave it at that, and not complicate it. But his traitorous mind betrayed him, ‘but it’s different, isn’t it? Harry’s got friends, a life, one that hasn’t been destroyed completely yet. Yeah, he’s got shit guardians, but whose life is perfect. Hell, he said he was like the quarter back of his team for that weird British sport. He is happy.’

Was.

Because Sam’s life was just like that. Friends, a girlfriend, a future in law. Until the demon got him.

He couldn’t let the same thing happen to Harry.

They got to the hotel, taking the fancy elevator up then found their room, opening the door, he began calling out, “Hey Harry, sorry abou-”

Then he looked.

A dark figure absorbed the space above Harry’s bed, black tendrils escaping his mouth as he twitched and gasped. A perfect look at what his nightmares had been for weeks after that day at the arcade.

“Dean?”

Dean leapt for the shotgun by the door, whipping it around to face the shtriga and shot, hitting it square in the chest. It fell in the space between beds, Dean moved until he could see it again, then shot again, and again, and again, until he was out of ammo.

That broke him out of his haze. He’d realized Sam had been talking.

“-Harry? Oh, thank God you’re ok. Shit.”

Dean looked over and saw Harry, wide eyed, looking straight at the monster that lay beside his bed.

“Shit.”

-----

“So you’re not serial killers?”

That was the first words Sam had heard Harry speak that night. They had tried to explain everything, monsters existed, no ones safe, we’re hunters, we kill the supernatural. The whole shebang.

Sam was shocked to silence for a moment before he spoke, “No!”

Harry seemed to let out a breath.

Dean jumped in, “You thought we were serial killers?!” Dean quickly added when he found the more important question, “You stayed with us when you thought we were serial killers?!”

Harry looked at Dean like he though he was an idiot, “Of course! Your my brothers!”

Sam was taken aback. A look at Dean told him he was too.

Sam, deciding to set that aside for now, asked, “So your fine with the monsters exist part?”

Harry nodded. “I kinda figured.”

This shocked Sam even more, “you figured…?”

Harry paused, choosing his words carefully before saying, “If anyone was gonna be attacked by a soul sucking demon, I would’ve guessed it’d be me.”

At their wide eyes, Harry explained, “My friends called it Potter luck, just last year my godfather who was imprisoned for killing thirteen people broke out and everyone thought he was trying to kill me. Turns out he was framed but he’s still on the run. So, I thought something was gonna happen this summer, it figured that it would be a soul sucking demon.”

He had no idea what to say to that, another look told Dean didn’t either.

It was quiet for a while before Harry spoke, “We should probably leave soon, someone’s had to have called the police for the gunshots.”

That woke Sam up from his stupor and all three of them rushed to grab their things and run. By the time they were pulling out of the parking lot, they saw a police car pull in. Looking in the rearview mirror showed Harry reading his Latin book. Dean looked as baffled at this sequence of events as him.

-----

Harry tried to focus on the book, but it was hard. He wasn’t lying when he said he had expected a soul sucking demon to attack him this summer, though his thinking was more along the lines of dementor than Shtriga. No, what was bugging him was that his brothers would probably kill him if they knew he was a wizard. The only reason he hadn’t told them before was to avoid the wizarding government from finding out and erasing their memories of him entirely, but he doesn’t think he’s ever been more thankful of a decision in his life.

The bright side is, after over a month of living with them, they hadn’t found out, meaning that if is extra careful keeping them away from his bag where his wand, cloak, and charms book is, he should be fine.

“So, when’s you’re next job?”

Dean responded, “We take ‘em when we’re called, like this one, or when we notice something weird on the news, so we don’t really know but usually we get one every two weeks or so.”

“Why haven’t you been taking them recently?”

Sam spoke this time, “we’ve been taking a break because we didn’t want you to know.”

Harry supposed that made sense, they didn’t know he dealt with stuff like this on the regular, they only saw an underweight, short teenager, ready to be in danger. Harry wouldn’t have wanted a rookie to get in the way of him killing the basilisk.

“Could you teach me about the monsters? I don’t want to be clueless the next time we go on a hunt.”

He got two of the same response.

“No.”

“No.”

Turning to Sam, who was looking a little surprised at Dean, Harry asked, “Why?”

“You don’t need to know about monsters if your not going hunting, and your not going hunting.” Sam said in a voice that brook no arguments.

Too bad Harry could beat anyone in a contest of stubbornness.

“Yeah. I am.”

“No! And that’s Final!”

Dean looked like he was trying not to be drawn into the argument, eyes ahead and moving as little as possible.

“Why!?”

“You have a life, Harry! No! You don’t know what this life does to you!”

Harry can admit he has a few soft spots, and people assuming things about him is unfortunately one of them.

“You don’t know what my life has been like! I killed a man when I was eleven! I have seen fucking evil Sam! A few ghosts won’t change my life!”

There was a long moment of silence before Dean pulled over on the side of the road. The three of them sat there for a few seconds, waiting, before Dean spoke, “You killed someone?”

The anger was evaporating, and he was remembering what he just said, time to do damage control.

“It was self-defense.”

A few minutes passed in silence.

Then Harry clarified, “So I don’t think a few vampires will shake me.”

No one talked more than necessary for the rest of the ride back to Bobby’s.