19.
Dean stood at the workbench in the bunker garage, cleaning his weapons. He had always been the type to feel calm when he was doing something practical. But even now he felt tense. Dana had just had a rough day, and he was determined to protect her no matter what.
Sam walked in with a stack of books under his arm. “Rowena sent over some old documents. She wants us to look at them.”
Dean grunted something unintelligible and put down his cloth. “Later. I want to make sure everything is secure first.” Suddenly, a loud, echoing sound came from the bunker entrance. Dean looked up immediately, his hand darting to the nearest weapon.
“Sam,” he said sharply. Sam nodded and walked quickly to the monitors. “There’s someone at the door.” Dean grabbed his rifle and moved silently toward the stairs. “Stay with Dana. I’ll handle this.”
When Dean opened the heavy metal door, there stood an older man with a long silver beard and a bright blue cloak. He looked at Dean kindly but firmly.
“Good day,” the man began calmly. “My name is Albus Dumbledore.” Dean raised his rifle, his gaze hard. “Not one step closer.” Albus raised his free hand, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. “I come in peace. I am here to speak to you and your brother about Dana.”
The girl’s name made Dean’s gaze darken even more. “Dana is safe. And you will stay away from her.”
“I have no doubt that you will protect her,” Albus replied calmly. “But it is imperative that I speak to her.”
“That will not happen.” Dean took a step forward, his rifle still aimed. “You should be glad I didn’t shoot you right away.” Albus sighed deeply. “Mr. Winchester, you don’t understand—”
“I understand perfectly well,” Dean snapped. “You’re one of those so-called protectors who left her with those monsters who called themselves family.” Albus blinked, clearly moved by Dean’s words. “I’ve made mistakes, I won’t deny that. But I want to make it right.”
“Too late,” Dean said coldly. “She has a family now.” At that moment, Dean heard the rustle of feathers. He turned to see Castiel appear, his trench coat blowing in the wind.
“Dean,” Castiel said in his usual monotone voice. Albus looked at the angel with interest. “Ah, a seraph. I’d heard you guys existed.” Castiel looked back, his blue eyes fixed on Albus. “And I’d heard about your kind.” Dean growled. “Cas, he wants to talk to Dana. What do you think?”
Castiel kept his gaze on Albus. “What do you want from her?”
“I want to ensure her safety,” Albus said honestly. “She is special. Her magic is unique, and the world is dangerous for children like her.” Castiel stepped forward and stood between Dean and Albus. “She is safe here. Dean and Sam will protect her.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Albus said softly. “But there are forces in the magical world that want to find her. And they will not hesitate to do so by force.”
Dean took a deep breath, his anger still visible. “We have faced demons, angels, and even death himself. Do you really think a few wizards will scare us?” Albus smiled faintly. “Maybe not. But I am sure you understand the importance of being prepared.” Dana suddenly appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Dean? Who's that?"
Dean turned around immediately, his face softening when he saw Dana. "Go back inside, kiddo. Everything's okay." Albus looked at her, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Dana."
Dana looked back, her gaze uncertain. "Do you know me?"
"Yes," Albus said softly. "I knew your parents." Dean stepped directly in front of her, his gaze dangerous. "That's far enough. You've had your say." Castiel put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Maybe we should listen." Dean looked at his friend, clearly struggling with himself. Finally, he sighed and nodded slowly.
"Come in," Dean said curtly to Albus. "But if you try anything, you'll a dead man." Albus smiled weakly and stepped inside. "I just want to help."
"We'll see about that," Dean muttered as he closed the door behind them.
The heavy door to the bunker slammed shut behind Albus. Dean, Sam, and Castiel followed him inside, Dean always a step closer than necessary, as if he expected Albus to do something dangerous at any moment.
“Sit down,” Dean ordered, pointing to one of the chairs by the table in the library. Albus did as he was told, looking around in silent admiration. “You have an impressive collection of knowledge here.”
“Not relevant,” Dean said curtly. “Start talking.” Albus folded his hands in his lap and looked first at Sam, then at Dean. “I understand that you are suspicious. And rightly so.” “Dude, you have no idea, but you will,” growled Dean.
Albus sat quietly as the brothers told their story. His hands rested in his lap, but his eyes were more serious than ever. Dean took a deep breath before speaking. “We found her near a motel we were staying at after a hunt,” Dean began. His voice was sharp, as if he were still angry at the memory. “She was sitting there. Alone. No coat, completely soaked.”
Albus nodded slowly, but said nothing. He let Dean continue. “She was starving,” Dean continued. “We took her inside, gave her something to eat. She was quiet… and afraid. And when we finally got some food into her, she threw it up because she had not eaten in four friggin days!” His voice became louder.
Sam joined in. “Her uncle had thrown her out of the car. Two days before. She had been wandering around outside the whole time. No money, no food. She even thought it was her own fault.”
At those last words, Albus’ face suddenly looked a lot older. His eyes, normally sparkling with wisdom, looked tired. “She thought it was her own fault?” he asked softly.
Sam nodded. “Yes. She said her uncle always told her she was a freak. That she was worthless. That she didn’t deserve to be loved.” Albus took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on a spot somewhere on the table. “I knew her stay with the Dursleys would be hard… but I never thought they would treat her like this.”
Dean shot forward, his gaze fierce. “You should have known that. You say you wanted to protect her, but you left her with people who hated her.” Albus closed his eyes briefly. “I misjudged. I thought physical safety was more important than emotional well-being.”
“Well, you were wrong,” Dean said sharply. “She was afraid to eat. Afraid we would punish her if she did something wrong. A child shouldn’t feel this way.” Sam looked at Albus, his tone a little softer than his brother’s. “She’s strong, but she didn’t learn it naturally. She’s strong because she had to survive.”
Albus opened his eyes and looked at Sam. “And yet she found you. You saved her.” Dean sighed. “Yes. But we want to do more than that. We want her to have a normal life. No threats from magical groups, no secrets. She deserves to just be a child.” Albus nodded slowly. “And that’s why I’m here. I want to help make sure she gets that life. Without fear.”
A silence fell in the room, broken only by the soft rustle of Castiel’s trench coat as he moved. Albus scanned the library, as if searching for the right words. After a few moments, he spoke slowly, as if carefully weighing the weight of his words.
“You may have heard of Voldemort,” he began, his voice heavy with seriousness. “But he was not alone. He was surrounded by a group of followers who called themselves Death Eaters.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Death Eaters? What kind of name is that?”
“A name that spread fear,” Albus said, his gaze dark. “The Death Eaters were his followers. They were prepared to kill, torture, and destroy lives in his name. They believed in his ideal of magical supremacy. To them, Muggles and Muggle-borns were inferior, and only pure-blood wizards were worthy of living.”
Sam leaned forward. “So they were extremists?”
“That is an accurate description,” Albus confirmed. “Many of them came from old, wealthy wizarding families who believed their bloodline gave them power. They felt threatened by the increasing equality in the wizarding world and were willing to do anything to maintain their status.” Dean’s gaze darkened. “And they were just following a madman who wanted to wipe everyone out?”
“Voldemort was more than a madman,” Albus said softly. “He was extremely intelligent and charismatic. He knew how to manipulate people and use their fears. But the most dangerous thing about him was his obsession with immortality and power. He saw himself as a savior of the wizarding world.” Castiel, who had been listening quietly, now spoke. “And what happened to these Death Eaters after he fell?”
“Many of them were captured and sent to Azkaban, the wizarding prison,” Albus explained. “But some escaped justice. They went underground, waited, hoped for his return.” Sam was the first to speak. “Albus, there’s something else you need to know.”
The old wizard looked up, his blue eyes searching. “I’m listening.” Dean straightened and stepped forward. “Dana carried something inside her. Something dark.”
Albus raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. He waited, his face a mask of calm curiosity. Sam sighed softly. “When we took her to Gringotts America, the goblins discovered that a fragment of Voldemort’s soul was inside her.” Albus stiffened. “A Horcrux.”
Dean nodded slowly. “Yes. She had it with her since that night… the night her parents died.”
“And you removed that fragment?” Albus asked, his voice soft but charged with tension. “The goblins did it,” Sam explained. “They performed a ritual to separate the fragment from her and destroy it. It was painful for her, but she if fine now.”
After that revelation Dean got up and made coffee. He even offered some to the old wizard. In the meantime he checked in on Dana, who was making a puzzle in her room.
In the library, Albus sat at the table, his hands folded in front of him. He looked at Dean, Sam, and Castiel with a thoughtful gaze. The silence in the room was tense, and it felt as if everyone was waiting for what he was going to say.
“There is a way,” Albus began slowly. “A spell that can make the bunker completely untraceable to anyone who doesn’t know the secret. It’s called the Fidelius Charm.”
Dean raised his eyebrow. “The what?”
“The Fidelius Charm is one of the most powerful protection spells in the magical world,” Albus explained. “It hides a secret within the soul of one person—the Secret Keeper. Only that person can share the secret. Without their permission, no one can find its location, no matter what magic they use.” Sam leaned forward, his eyes interested. “So even if someone knows the bunker exists, they can’t find it without the Secret Keeper?”
“Exactly,” Albus confirmed. “The spell makes it literally impossible to reveal the location unless the Keeper of Secrets willingly shares it.” Castiel looked at Albus thoughtfully. “And who would the Keeper of Secrets be?”
Albus looked at Dean. “It makes sense that Dean would be the person.” Dean looked skeptical. “Me?”
“Yes,” Albus said without hesitation. “Dana is your daughter now that you have adopted her. It would only make sense that you would be the one protecting her location.” Dean lowered his gaze, his jaw set. He considered what that would mean—the responsibility, the risks. But he already knew what his answer would be.
“I will,” he said finally, his voice firm. Sam looked at his brother, a soft smile on his face. “You’re sure?” Dean looked up, his gaze fierce. “There’s no other option. If anyone tries to find her, they have to go through me. And that's not going to happen." Albus nodded approvingly. "It's not a light responsibility. But I think you're the right person to bear it."
Castiel stepped forward. "And what happens if someone tries to force Dean to reveal the secret?"
"The spell protects against everything," Albus explained. "Only if Dean reveals the secret willingly, someone would know where the bunker is. Should Dean die, everyone who knows the location becomes a Secret Keeper."
Dean took a deep breath. "Good. What do we need to do to make this happen?"