Harry held his breath as he took in the devastating sight of the blood-soaked grounds of the place he once called home.
Hogwarts was on fire, the plumage of smoke billowing from the tallest tower felt like an omen worse than death.
Holes from spell fire indented the magnificent castle, it was as if a ginormous bludger had gone on the offensive against the castle.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared at his destroyed home, remembering the first time he caught a glimpse of the magical castle at the age of eleven.
It would never look the same again.
The war against Voldemort was finally over, the final battle had ended in a massacre.
Friends, family, and enemies of all kinds lay mangled or dead across the grounds of Hogwarts.
Was this the victory they had hoped for? Harry thought to himself as he looked at the dead body of Colin Creevey.
He remembered the little boy who would follow him around with a camera, who'd asked him to sign the photos afterward. The kid who started a Harry Potter fan club in second year because he believed that Harry wasn't the Heir of Slytherin.
He saw Lavender Brown a few feet away, her leg looked as if it had been clawed off. Her face had a large gash across it, shredded by the claws of a werewolf most likely. Parvati Patil screamed over Lavender's body as her sister Padma mumbled healing spell after healing spell under her breath. It would do no good though as Harry could tell from where he was standing that the shine in Lavender's eye had already gone out.
Harry knew the war had to end, he knew that there would be casualties, he just never truly processed that he'd be losing people he had grown up with.
Why? Why did they put this war on his shoulders? Why did he have to survive the killing curse? Why was he responsible for ending a war that he wanted no part in?
Harry surveyed the rest of the grounds.
People who were able to walk were helping the injured into Hogwarts, to the makeshift hospital wing that Madam Pomfrey had set up in the great hall.
He caught a glimpse of Professor McGonagall and wished he hadn't seen her. She was standing over two recognizable bodies, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks.
She was openly weeping over them and Harry's heart broke at the sight. She had taught all of these students and now half of them were dead or severely injured. He wished she didn't have to see this, he wished he could spare her the pain of seeing the children and adults she mentored gone for good.
The way Remus and Tonks were positioned it looked like they had died protecting each other.
A scowl crossed Harry's face as he looked at them. They shouldn't have been in this fight to begin with, Tonks had just had a baby. They left their newborn at home to go fight, and while Harry understood that they were fighting for a better future for their child like his parents did for him, he wished they had stayed behind for Teddy.
He secretly wished his parents had done that, said screw this fight, packed up their shit and just taken off out of England. Maybe they would have still been alive today.
As he headed over to McGonagall to talk to her, to say anything that would make this all okay or at least slightly less like the world was crumbling around them, another horrific sight caused Harry to stop suddenly.
A group of redheads were crying over a body. From where he was standing he could see George clutching it, tears and snot running down his face as his mother, Molly, who was also crying silently tried to pull him away.
A gut-wrenching sob escaped his lips as his brain processed what he was seeing, it was the body of Fred Weasley.
Fred Weasley, found Harry crying in his second year and made him laugh when everyone believed he was the Heir of Slytherin.
Fred Weasley, who helped him escape into Hogsmeade in his third year. Fred taught Harry the protego charm, an advanced spell so that Harry could protect himself from Sirius.
Fred Weasley, who tucked a stray hair behind Harry's ear and muttered sorry with a blush when he noticed how close together they were sitting.
Fred Weasley, who swiped a bit of chocolate off of Harry's lip during the World Cup with his finger. Harry had been rather embarrassed at how messy that made him feel until he watched Fred stick his thumb in his mouth to suck the chocolate off and suddenly Harry was feeling embarrassed for a whole different reason.
Fred Weasley, who asked him to be his date to the Yule ball. Harry and Fred had shared the first dance and it had been magical. After pulling a massive prank, they escaped the dance laughing. Harry's hand had felt so warm in Fred's. He stared at the sight of Fred with his head thrown back mid-laugh, his eyes were sparkling then, and as Fred glanced back at Harry a wide smile spread across Fred's face as he squeezed Harry's hand. Harry knew at that moment he was in love. They shared each other's first kiss that night.
Fred Weasley, the man Harry was preparing to break up with because he had a very dangerous task to do, horcrux hunting, and this was the only way Harry thought Fred could be safe. The man who changed all his plans when he got down on one knee and proposed. The man who tried to explain that he knew this was probably too soon, absolutely awful timing on his part but “Harry James Potter, you're it for me. I love you. Will you marry me?”
He glanced down at the ring that was still on his finger. The ring Harry kissed as a way to say goodbye as he walked into the forbidden forest to his death and hoped that Fred would find someone else to love.
Why was this happening? How did this happen? Harry would give up anything and everything for Fred Weasley to be alive again.
Another gut-wrenching sob escaped his throat. He hoped that this was just an awful prank, any minute now and Fred would get up and come and sweep him off his feet for a job well done. Seconds turned to minutes as he desperately hoped the Weasley family was in on this prank, though it seemed more unlikely when George finally let go of his brother. Those were real tears in George's eyes and Fred was too pale for this to be just a prank.
Harry couldn't keep standing there crying though, people were starting to stare and point at the boy who lived again. He couldn't stay where he was as his fiancé lay dead a few feet away from him, couldn't stay when there was nothing he could do to save him
Harry felt so drained, that he didn't want to think or feel anymore. He needed to get out of there, so Harry did the impossible once more.
He apparated off the grounds of Hogwarts to the only place he knew he'd feel safe, Grimmauld Place.
____________________________________
Grimmauld Place hadn't always been Harry's haven, in fact, it once felt more like a prison than a home.
The dreary colors of the wallpaper, the elf heads that adorned the walls, the portrait of Sirius’ mother that screamed now and then that filthy half-blood traitors were stealing the glorious Black family home. Cursed objects that with a single touch could destroy your mind worse than the best legilimens could.
Grimmauld Place had been a house of nightmares until the middle of Harry’s fifth year at Hogwarts.
Harry had a vision that Arthur Weasley had been attacked by a snake but in his dream, the snake had been him. The nightmare hadn’t been a nightmare at all and Arthur had ended up at St. Mungo’s hospital, they barely saved his life in time.
He remembered how frantic he felt as he told Dumbledore what had happened. He remembered the look on his best friend's face as he was informed about his father’s injury, the way Ginny broke down, and the somber look on the twin’s faces. He remembered grasping Fred’s hand in his own while Fred cried against his shoulder.
Dumbledore thought it would be in their best interests to start their winter break early, sending the Weasleys and Harry to Grimmauld Place.
The first few days were filled with both sorrow and anger, sorrow over what had happened to Arthur and anger because Harry didn’t understand what was happening to him and quite frankly the unknown terrified him.
Harry mostly stayed in the room they put him in, too afraid to leave. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else.
Fred tried his best to cheer Harry up and tried to get him to come downstairs and eat. He had cracked jokes about how he should have been the one hiding up in his room instead. It made him smile and he loved Fred for trying but he just wanted to be alone. He wished that he could mope over normal teenage things instead of thinking that he was responsible for Ron’s dad almost dying.
Sirius was the one who got him out of his funk. It started with small gestures, a plate of warm food outside his door, an interesting book on animagus transformations, and photos of his parents laughing and dancing in what looked like a muggle bar.
Harry told Sirius all of his insecurities, his deepest secrets that he never told his closest friends. He even told Sirius about his life at the Dursleys.
Harry didn't know why it was so easy to open up to Sirius. Maybe it was because Sirius in a way reminded Harry of himself. Maybe it was because Sirius was the one who was supposed to take him in if anything happened to his parents. Opening up to Sirius was the easiest thing Harry had ever done.
When the nightmares continued Sirius was there, whether as himself or as Padfoot, to comfort him.
On Christmas day, Sirius gave him the best gift he ever could.
“These belonged to your parents. I want you to have them now, Merry Christmas Harry.”
Inside the gift that Sirius handed to him was an overly large lily flower hair clip, its petals a fiery orange. A muggle watch that illuminated a soft blue glow, transcribed on the back were the words ‘You hold my heart in your hands, with love always. James Potter.’ There was also a leather jacket inside, the smell of rich cologne filled the air when Harry pulled it out of the bag. He couldn't picture his dad wearing the jacket, however, the deep scent that emitted from its leather made Harry feel warm. He pressed the jacket to his forehead, breathing in its strong scent as tears welled up in his eyes.
Throwing the jacket around his smaller frame felt as if he was being hugged by his parents. Launching himself across the couch to where Sirius sat, he wrapped his arms around his godfather in thanks. Finally, something that belonged to both of his parents was in his possession.
That winter break was one Harry would remember for the rest of his life.
Everything was different now though as Harry glanced around the sitting room. The house may have been cleaner which should have made Grimmauld Place feel more welcoming, brighter in fact than it had been in years, however, all Harry felt as memories swirled through his mind was a deep emptiness.
Fred was gone. One of the people he wanted to protect the most in his life was dead and it was all Harry's fault.
He slid down the wall, hands over his eyes as he finally allowed himself to break down. Finally, within the comforts of the only place Harry had left to call his home, he allowed himself to process that his fiancé was truly dead.
He didn't have to worry about his photo showing up in the Daily Prophet as he cried. Harry hated reporters. He could already picture the headlines if someone had managed to snap a photo of him back at Hogwarts. ‘Boy who lived to cry.’ Someway they'd twist the story to fit their narrative. Something like ‘Boy who lives again, going dark.’
A hysterical laugh escaped his mouth at the thought, followed by a full-body sob. He cried until he couldn't cry anymore. Harry didn't know how many hours had passed while he sat in his misery.
The sitting room had grown dark by the time Harry tried to pull himself together, Fred wouldn't have wanted him sitting in an empty room feeling sorry for himself.
Struggling to stand on legs that had long since fallen asleep, Harry spotted the leather jacket that Sirius had given him. The jacket sat draped across the back of one of the ugliest sofas Harry had seen in his life.
Conflicting feelings rose in Harry as he continued to stare at the jacket. Love for his parents as well as love of the memory the jacket conjured in his mind, however, there was also a deep sated confusion that entered his mind at the sight of his father’s jacket.
That wasn't the place he had left the jacket. Harry could have sworn he had left it hanging against the door in his makeshift bedroom.
A floorboard creaked above Harry and all the color drained from his face.
He wasn't supposed to be able to move just yet, Harry hadn't freed him.
Trying to run up the stairs with legs that felt like jelly should have been a comedic sight and Harry would have laughed if he didn't feel so panicked.
The door to Harry’s bedroom was open, he'd been sleeping in Sirius’ old bedroom, and Harry could hear quiet humming coming from the room.
Harry sighed upon entering the room, there on the bed sat his godfather Sirius. The gray streak in his otherwise perfect black hair was rather prominent. He was glancing through photos and humming something Harry didn't recognize.
Sirius Black should have been dead, he was even listed as dead within the Ministry of Magic. During Harry's fifth year, Sirius had an unfortunate incident with the veil of death, he fell in. As Harry screamed for his godfather, Sirius came tumbling out but he was different now. Dumbledore had called him death touched.
Harry didn't understand what Dumbledore had meant by that until the next day when he went to hug his godfather and Sirius freaked out. Harry remembered Sirius screaming at him as he got pushed away.
“Who are you? Why do you have James’ face? Those aren't his eyes, why are you trying to trick me?”
Sirius sometimes had moments of recognition but those didn't happen very often, it's one of the reasons why Harry had kept him locked up in Grimmauld Place. Harry didn't want Sirius to die because of something stupid like not remembering a spell.
Now staring at his godfather while he hummed to who knows what, Harry didn't know what to expect. At what moment in time was Sirius right now? How was he supposed to tell his godfather that the only friend he had left was dead?
Sirius glanced up at Harry, a smile graced his face before it fell. He must have noticed the absolute despair that was still on Harry's face and saw the tear stains that were still present on his checks.
Sirius tapped against the bed, beckoning Harry to come sit next to him. Sighing again, Harry plopped down next to him. Sirius wrapped a comforting arm around Harry and if Harry hadn't already cried himself out downstairs he would have broken into tears once more. Sirius was being rather gentle with him as if at any moment he'd fall apart, maybe Sirius had heard him breaking down.
He glanced at the photos in Sirius’ hand.
One had Sirius and Remus dancing together at what looked like a muggle bar if you could call what they were doing with each other dancing. Another photo had his dad and Sirius switching a joint back and forth with each other, blowing smoke at each other and toward the camera. The third photo gave Harry pause though. In it was his mom and dad but there was also another man in the photo. The man he didn't recognize had his hand on his mother's thigh as he whispered inaudible words into her ear while his dad smirked at the camera before leaving kisses along the man's neck.
The man in the photo was wearing the leather jacket that Sirius had given him, the jacket that Sirius said belonged to his father.
Harry reached out a trembling hand to touch the photo. His breath caught in his throat.
Who was this man? Why was he touching his mother while his father kissed him? Why was he wearing the leather jacket that was downstairs and that Sirius specifically said belonged to his dad?
A haunting sigh left Sirius's lips, his hand joining Harry's to stroke reverently across the strange man's face.
Licking his chapped lips Harry asked the only question that he needed the answer to. “Who is that Sirius?”
Sirius took a deep breath in, and a cloudy haze entered his eyes as if he were reliving the past.
“I suppose this is another thing Petunia never told you about, she always was a spiteful bitch. When your parents and I were just out of Hogwarts and the war started becoming more dangerous, we decided to relieve our stress at muggle bars.”
Harry watched Sirius, a smirk forming on his godfather's face.
“Your parents were a wild bunch kid, they didn't care what people thought of them. Lily was the wildest of us all, she'd walk in a bar and challenge the first person she thought looked remotely interesting to a drinking contest, that petite redhead always won. Your mother was such a con artist, she made the marauders look like schoolchildren.”
A bark-like chuckle left Sirius' mouth. He ran his hand through his hair, shaking it out.
“The man in the picture turned heads when he walked into the bar we had been frequenting that night. If I wasn't so in love with Remus at that moment in time I probably would have hit on him, flashed him this winning Black smile.”
A grin that put Lockhart's to shame, that belonged on a top five most handsome men magazine cover, crossed Sirius’ face.
“He spotted Lily and like a moth to a flame, he glided over to her. He bought her a drink and then bought James a drink when James wrapped an arm around Lily. Introducing himself as the world's richest man, Lily didn't recognize his name which in the man's eyes made her far more interesting. James laughed at the comment, the Potter fortune was massive so a flirt about money was hilarious to the Potter Heir. Husband and wife knocked back the drinks, and James led his wife to the dance floor while the man sat and watched them. His eyes filled with lust while he watched Lily sway her hips and watched as James dipped her.”
“I'd known the both of them long enough to know when they were attracted to someone, James was never that bold with Lily but I figure war makes you do crazy things. I don't know much after that, I got a bit too wasted on drinks with Remus that night but I do know they hooked up, all three of them.”
Harry stared at Sirius. Mouth gaping open, his parents were wild it seemed but that didn't explain anything about the jacket and he said this thought out loud.
“Harry, your parents loved you very much but,” Sirius took a deep breath in and out and then dropped the biggest bombshell of Harry's entire life on him, “James couldn't have children Harry. Your father was.. is the man in the picture. His name is Tony Stark.”
Harry had heard that name before, they had made muggle comics about the man. Tony Stark was a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and the man who had become the superhero known as Iron Man around the world.
Was Harry's whole life a lie? How could nobody tell him that his father wasn't his dad? Did Dumbledore know, did Remus know? Why did no one tell him, were they all laughing at him behind his back, did they think he already knew that James wasn't his biological dad and just didn't care? Did James only sacrifice himself to save his wife?
Strong hands on his shoulders shook him out of his spiraling thoughts. Sirius pulled him into a tight hug, rubbing his back in soothing circles.
“When James found out Lily was pregnant he was overjoyed at the thought. He already knew he couldn't get Lily pregnant and while it was a surprise that it happened with the first person they decided they both wanted to sleep with together, you were a welcome surprise. James loved you kid, Lily loved you, I love you, kid. The moment your parents made me your godfather and the moment you opened your eyes to the world I knew I loved you and that I'd do anything for you. You were loved Harry James Potter and I'm sure if Tony knew he'd fathered a child he would have loved you as well.”
As he clung to Sirius, Harry felt smaller than usual, he felt like a kid that needed a parental figure. Harry had gone through hell and back though, he had died, he had seen the dead body of the man he loved a few hours ago, he had finished a war and killed the bastard who killed his parents, a feat that no other wizard could accomplish.
Why did he wonder what it would be like if Sirius had raised him? What would his life look like if he had been told early that James Potter wasn't his dad? What would have happened if Tony knew he had a kid? Would Harry have put Tony's life in danger? Would Harry eventually get Tony killed? Would Tony have wanted to know him if he knew anything about Harry's life?
The curiosity was killing him. He knew that his life was dangerous, there were probably death eaters on the loose who would be looking for revenge, and he knew that these thoughts were probably a bad idea. Knew in his mind that he shouldn't hope but in his heart, he knew. Harry knew he needed to meet Tony Stark. While Harry hugged Sirius back tightly, in his moment of clarity, he started to make plans for the future.
____________________________________
Six months, it took Harry six months to figure out his plans for meeting Tony Stark.
It was now November.
Hogwarts had been rebuilt within those six months, ready for a late start to a new year and Harry had already declined the invite to go back for his final year. Joining his friends back at the place that still held many nightmares just felt wrong. He never wanted to walk those halls again.
Harry also declined a request to join the auror's, he was done with fighting. Why would he join the people who called him crazy for telling them that Voldemort was back?
Bags packed and Sirius’ hand in his, he held tightly onto the portkey while he thought back to those late June months.
The funerals for those who died were held in June. Harry had attended every single one. When Fred's funeral came he sat in the front row, holding onto George like a lifeline. Harry and Fred's relationship hadn't been a secret, the whole Weasley family had known and had been so supportive.
Harry had also tried to return his engagement ring, he knew Fred had spent a massive amount of money on it and he knew about the Weasley's financial situation. Molly would have none of it though. “Don't start that nonsense, Fred bought that for you with his own hard-earned money. With or without that ring, you're my son Harry. Whether you keep it or sell it, that's your choice, as long as you're happy and healthy. That's all that matters and we will not be discussing this again.”
The ring now had a permanent position on a chain necklace that was currently tucked safely in his shirt. Harry would never take it off for as long as he lived.
When the eulogy was over and guests started to crowd the Weasleys to offer their condolences, Harry took the chance to walk closer to Fred’s gravestone.
In his hand, he carried yellow asphodel flowers, the flower’s meaning was remembered even after death. He had looked up flower meanings in a book he had found in the Black family library. It had taken him ages to read though because Sirius kept dragging him out of the library.
“Reggie, we aren't allowed in the library. You know the rules. Come on.” Each time Sirius found him in there it was as if a switch was thrown up in Sirius’ mind. Harry wasn’t himself in his godfather’s eyes when he was in the library. It was a bad mental health day when Sirius thought Harry was his brother and those days always ended with Harry being dragged from the room.
Placing the flowers on Fred’s headstone, he leaned down to place his hand on the fresh mound of dirt.
“I hope you like the flower, Fred. They have another name for them, some people call them king’s spear. I thought you’d get a chuckle out of that, wherever you are.”
Harry awkwardly laughed, King’s spear because Weasley is our king. Fred would have laughed his head off before telling Harry that was the cheesiest thing he’d ever heard. Fred would have followed that up with a kiss of course while Harry sputtered his offense at being called cheesy.
“I’m going to miss you so much, Fred. I’ve already given everyone my awkward goodbyes. I’m leaving England for a bit, I have something I need to do.”
Through Harry’s research on his dad, he learned that Tony Stark wasn’t in New York like he had originally thought. Tony was in Malibu California, in what the media called his Bachelor Seaside Dream.
Another thing that Harry found out during his research was that the media had a very easy time painting Tony Stark as the bad guy.
For every article about Tony doing good, ‘Iron Man saves kitten from a tree,’ there were three different articles about Tony Stark being prime enemy number one, ‘Tony Stark missiles launched in Iran, thirty-three confirmed dead with the toll rising.’
Tony Stark seemed to be the muggle equivalent of Harry Potter within the media and though strange, it brought a certain comfort to Harry. The thought made him feel closer to Tony, they had a lot more in common than Harry had previously thought.
Harry brushed his hand across Fred’s name, his fingers tracing the words that were etched into its stone.
‘Here Lies Fred Gideon Weasley’
‘Loving son, fellow prankster, never a husband or a bride’
A startled laugh escaped him as well as a few sad tears he couldn't hold back when he read those words. The truth of that statement hurt but Harry also thought it was funny. The words felt like one last prank.
George had been the one who wrote his twins’ epitaph though he didn’t tell anyone what he was going to have put on the stone, it felt very fitting. George knew that Fred would have wanted his funeral to be a fun affair.
Harry glanced around to make sure no one had heard him laugh, he didn’t want people to assume he was being rude.
George caught Harry’s eyes, sending him a quick wink to let Harry know everything was alright. Charlie and Bill were keeping their parents company while strangers offered their condolences. Ron, Ginny, and Percy were keeping the crowd at bay so Harry could say his goodbyes. He spotted Hermione in the crowd of people as she slipped her wand away, a bubble enveloped him and Harry understood that she had put a privacy spell around him. He didn’t need to worry about anyone overhearing him.
In his head, Harry thanked the Weasley family. He thanked them for welcoming him into their family so easily. He thanked the universe that Ron had sat next to him on their first train ride to Hogwarts. Harry thanked Ron for not blaming him for Fred’s death even though his guilt told him that Ron should blame him for everything bad ever happening in their life. He was grateful that Hermione was his friend, the smartest witch of their age and she continued to put up with Ron and his nonsense.
“I’m going to America and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for. This isn’t me running away from my problems Fred. I found out that James Potter isn’t my biological dad and that the man who’s responsible for me being here now is alive. I have a dad out there somewhere and maybe once he gets to know me he might want me.”
Excited nerves made Harry’s stomach feel all jumbled up. There was no room to panic, to freak out and cancel his perfectly crafted plans.
Harry continued to trace Fred’s name as fond memories of their time together replayed through his mind. A cool breeze swept through his hair, lifting the hair from his forehead, his scar on full display.
“I’m going to miss the way your nose crinkled up when you laughed. I’m going to miss the way your hand fits into mine. I’m going to miss the way your kisses made me feel. For the rest of my life I’m going to love you, Fred Weasley, nothing will ever change that.”
Harry’s voice broke, he didn’t want to break down in front of all these people but he couldn't hold them back anymore. Harry let himself cry knowing that while people could see him they couldn't hear him weeping. He thought he was all cried out as he furiously swiped the tears away with his shirt sleeve. Taking a deep breath in, Harry took a small moment to collect himself, he could do this.
How was he ever going to feel whole again when his other half was buried seven feet under? Would his nightmares ever stop? As he continued sitting there at Fred’s final resting spot he felt a brief moment of peace settle over him.
“Kingsley did me a favor and put in an advance on a portkey set to leave in November. I don’t have to make an illegal one for us. Does that take the fun out of it Fred?”
Harry was bringing Sirius on the trip with him. He thought if Tony might somehow recognize Sirius after all these years, and see the two of them together, he might just instantly connect the dots. Surprise, it's a boy.
Sirius's fits were getting worse, there were moments when he even forgot who he was. Harry didn’t know how to help Sirius, he didn’t even know how to properly take care of him. He hoped Tony would know what to do. Maybe that Doctor fellow would know how to help.
Harry’s fingers graced the bright yellow petals of the flowers he had brought with him, its color reminded him of canary creams and trick candy the twins used to make. Smiling at the memory Harry knew he was ready to go, he was ready for his next grand adventure.
“The rest of our family is ready to say their goodbyes. I’m going to get out of their way so they can before I reach the point where I won’t want to leave. Besides, I still have things to pack and a list of things I still need to get done.”
Clutching the ring that resided under his shirt, Harry stood ready to go.
Walking away from Fred’s grave felt, in that moment, like the hardest thing he’s ever done.
He felt the privacy bubble fall as he walked towards his family, and watched as his friends gathered around him to hug him. Harry made promises he would write.
Molly told him to send an address for future use. She was looking forward to hearing how he was doing and was always happy to send a care package his way. Molly had new sweaters to make for future holidays.
Harry waved goodbye to them, reaching the apparition point he turned back to look at Fred’s grave. It looked too small from where he was standing, he let the wind carry his voice to the man he loved.
“I solemnly swear, I’ll never forget you, Fred Weasley.”
As the words echoed across the space and traveled with the wind, Harry twisted and apparated away. He had five months to get his affairs in order.
____________________________________
Fire, an agonizing burning inferno.
The heat blazed his skin as he tried to reach her. Her mouth was open as she silently screamed his name while her body burst into flames.
The smell of her burning skin made his eyes water, the scent clung to the air.
He couldn’t save her, couldn’t reach Jess in time.
“This is all your fault.” He turned towards the voice, Jess’s voice, the image of her body burned beyond recognition was standing behind him.
“This is all your fault, Sam Winchester.” Her hand reached out to grab him.
Sam Winchester gasped awake. The bus he was on was moving at a steady pace despite the heavy traffic.
He groaned as he stretched out against the too-small seats.
It was just another nightmare, one that had been on repeat ever since his girlfriend was killed the same way his mother died.
He glanced outside to see where they were, Sam hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He just needed to get away from it all.
Dean had been the one who suggested the small trip, even though their dad was missing, even though people could be dying because of the freaky stuff that existed in the world. Dean Winchester had told him to go, it was one of the best things his brother ever did for him.
He groaned as a pop sound came from his back while he stretched. Sam should have taken Dean’s offer of a drive. Six hours on a bus, two screaming babies, a teenager kicking the back of his seat, the girl next to him listening to AC/DC extremely loud through her small headphones. Sam knew all of these things should have made him take up Dean’s offer but he just couldn’t.
He was worried that if he had gone with Dean to go hunting for the thing that killed Jessica, to eventually find his dad, he would have been the reason someone else had gotten hurt. Sam didn’t want that on his conscience.
John Winchester would have called him a coward.
The speaker on the bus crackled as a voice-over the speaker came on.
“Thank you for riding the greyhound, in a few minutes we will be entering Malibu, our travel location. Be sure to check out the sights, we have some amazing beaches, and excellent seafood restaurants and if you're looking for something more touristy, Tony Stark just recently returned to his mansion.”
Tony Stark, Iron Man, or whatever you wanted to call him had fought against aliens. Actual aliens. Sam had been blown away when the news started saying there had been an alien attack in New York. Poltergeists, werewolves, witches, those were things that he and his family could deal with but aliens were unknown. Another evil out in the universe that he didn’t know how to defeat.
The bus pulled into the station, looking out the window Sam spotted a gaudy-looking tour bus. The smaller bus was red and gold, with bright lights strung up along the side of it, and in big bold letters was just one name: Stark.
Outside the bus, there were a lot of people already lined up to get on. Sam could spot the difference between the reporters and the tourists who just wanted a glance at the hero.
A guy was standing by the bus, with a map in his hand. He was a lot shorter than Sam but something about the way he looked made Sam continue watching him. Maybe it was the way he scratched at his hair in confusion. Maybe it was the large glasses that covered electric green eyes. Maybe it was the black deerhound next to him that was half the guy's size.
He seemed to be close to Sam’s age at first glance and the way the dude held himself Sam could tell by that glance that the man had been through something.
Sam continued to stare at the stranger, curiosity getting the better of him when the man froze up. It was as if he knew he was being watched because within moments he glanced up at Sam through the window of the bus.
Green eyes met his hazel ones and it was as if everything froze around Sam. The man’s eyes held curiosity, and a bit of hesitancy, and underneath all that was a haunting look that Sam was all too familiar with.
Why couldn’t he move? It felt as if someone had reached into his soul and pulled it from his body.
Sam felt a shiver run up his spine but he didn’t dare look away.
The man glanced away first, a red flush crawling up his face. Sam could finally look away, a breath of relief swept through him as he clenched his hand closed.
Sam didn’t fully understand what had just happened as people started to unload their things to disembark the bus.
He had a gut feeling that something supernatural just occurred. Quickly grabbing his things to get off the bus he knew what he needed to do.
Sam was going to get a ticket to get on that tour bus. If something supernatural was happening Sam was going to put a stop to it. No one on that bus was going to get hurt with Sam on the hunt.
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Neither knew how drastic their choices would affect the future.
Sam Winchester and Harry Potter to meet at last.
The angel-turned-trickster chuckled as he stuck a sucker into his mouth.
Heaven and Hell could suck it, a new player has entered their little game and nothing would ever be the same.
Throwing out his candy wrapper, Gabe wished the Potter, Stark, and Winchester family luck. They were going to need it.
He smiled as he disappeared from view, this was going to be good.