“Here I am.”
As soon as Dean and Sam pulled away, Harry could feel Bobby looking down at him.
“Alright, they’re gone,” Bobby said, holding up his side of their agreement. “Time to talk.”
Harry let out a relieved sigh. When Bobby had revealed that he knew who Harry was - what Harry was - Harry thought it would be over. He only had one request, one that fell right out of his mouth before he could even think about it.
“Please, don’t tell them,” Harry had said, his eyes on his wand. “Please? Just- I’ll leave. Don’t tell them.”
If Harry left, it would hurt.
If Harry was chased away by his brothers only hours after they said they wanted him to stay? Harry didn’t know that he could handle that.
It would be the worst pain yet, Harry knew that.
“Don’t tell who? Your brothers?”
Harry nodded and held his breath while Bobby seemed to be weighing him up.
“Fine.” Bobby tossed Harry’s bag on the mattress that Harry had thrown on the floor, though he kept Harry’s wand. “I’m keepin’ this safe until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
It was a fair enough deal. Bobby, true to his word, didn’t say anything to Sam or Dean about Harry and it only took him a day to find a case to send them on.
Harry had called Sirius that morning and told him in quiet whispers that he might be leaving soon and Sirius gave him a sympathetic look and list of nearby wizarding cities. Bobby had been… suspiciously kind in the day that they had all been at his house together though.
As far as Harry knew, Bobby didn’t say a word to either of his brothers. Nobody tried to kill Harry anytime his back was turned anyway. It made Harry a little less nervous to answer Bobby’s questions, so far he had been trustworthy even knowing Harry was a wizard.
Which - thanks, Statute of Secrecy, really.
Harry followed Bobby back inside the house and subtly checked that his bag was where he stashed it just beside the front door. If Harry needed to make a quick exit, he’d just have to do it without his wand. It might be a pain to replace, the one he had was hard enough to get in the first place, but Harry could worry about that later.
… or not.
Harry perched on the edge of the couch with his feet planted firmly on the floor, ready to run if needed. Bobby had him on edge while he just looked at Harry. After a very anxious minute, Bobby snorted and snatched Harry’s wand off the top of a bookcase and handed it to him before sitting in the recliner.
“We aren’t gettin’ anywhere with you lookin’ like a kicked dog,” Bobby said.
Harry didn’t appreciate the comparison, but he did relax just a little with his wand once again in hand. It was mostly useless during the summers, but if Harry had to fight for his life he didn’t want to do it empty handed.
“So… wizard,” Bobby said. “I’m guessin’ you didn’t inherit that from your daddy.”
“No, I guess not,” Harry agreed quietly. Even if Harry suspected that Sam was something more than muggle, he wouldn’t mention that. It was Sam’s information and Harry didn’t know that he wanted Bobby to have it.
“Boy, you’re a chatty one, ain’t ya?” Bobby asked, drawling it sarcastically. “I reckon there’s all sorts of rules about talking about magic, huh?”
“There are,” Harry said, peeking up from his wand to Bobby. Bobby was a hard person to read, but Harry liked his eyes, they seemed kind. “How- how did you even…?”
“Find out you’re pretty damn famous?” Bobby guessed. That wasn’t exactly what Harry wanted to ask, but close enough that he nodded.
“Took me half the day,” Bobby said. He grunted when he swung his legs up to rest his boots on the coffee table. “I called the only contact I had over yonder, asked about Hoggarts School.” Bobby scoffed and Harry felt himself flush with embarrassment.
It had been a stupid lie.
“They said it sounded familiar and they’d call me back,” Bobby went on. “Hunters hunt on their own, mostly, but we’d have died out a long time ago if we didn’t learn to share what we know.”
That made sense. Hunters were so involved in the magical world that they probably needed as much secrecy as the things they hunted… like witches and wizards.
“Anyway, they made some calls, paid some bribes, and put me in touch with someone that had a parent go to Hogwarts.” Bobby was definitely watching Harry closely then. “So I asked how to find out if someone was a student there and they said they’d do some diggin’ for me.”
Harry could guess what happened next. Bobby probably said as much as his first name and —
“I said I knew a Harry Potter and they laughed themselves sick.”
Harry himself laughed a very bitter and quiet laugh then. Bobby’s contact found what sounded like a squib who had magical enough parents to know about the Boy-Who-Lived and Bobby asked if Harry went to Hogwarts.
It was funny in a very unamusing and life-ruining sort of way.
“Right,” Harry said flatly, looking back at his wand he clenched in his hands. “I appreciate you not telling Dean or Sam… if you don’t mind, could I just get your address? I could write to them or something?”
If Bobby didn’t tell them that Harry was a wizard - that he was one of the ‘evil’ things they hunted and killed - then maybe Harry could keep a small connection. With Sam, anyway. Harry would just say he wanted to go home - to a home he didn’t have - and they could pass a few letters a year maybe.
“Hell, I dunno if Dean can even read,” Bobby said, surprising Harry with the almost teasing way he said it. “Probably for the best that you stick around, tell me about being a boy that lived and we can decide what to tell your brothers later.”
Harry pulled his eyebrows down and tried to squash the automatic flare of hope that rose in him at those words. That… but Bobby…? And they all…?
“You don’t think I’m evil and need killed?” Harry asked, embarrassed by the thickness of his voice.
“You? Evil?” Bobby chuckled, not unkindly. “Boy, I’ve seen evil. You ain’t it.”
Harry’s grip on his wand loosened and the heavy breath he released shook. That felt like such a heavy weight off Harry’s chest… One that had been sitting there for days, slowly suffocating him.
As far as Harry could tell, Bobby was sort of like Sam and Dean’s godfather, but one that was actually around quite a bit during their childhood. Dean mentioned birthdays spent together, holidays together. Bobby kept their old belongings, like the Dursleys did for Dudley. There were even photos of them all together that Harry found the day before when he helped Bobby unpack some of the boxes he apparently only boxed up before Harry arrived.
Which meant… maybe Sam and Dean would think the same thing? If they didn’t find out about the airplane… if Harry could convince them to not kill him…
“Thank you,” Harry told Bobby, looking up to look him in the eyes when he said it.
Bobby smiled and Harry liked it, he liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, like Hagrid’s.
“Ya ain’t gotta thank me, we’re family,” Bobby said, only raising Harry’s spirits more. “Now, I clearly don’t know jack about wizards, so why don’t you fill me in?”
“Yeah, okay.” Harry scooted back and relaxed on the couch, ninety percent sure that Bobby wasn’t plotting his murder.
The ten percent was because Harry never thought Professor Quirrell would try and kill him, but Bobby didn’t give Harry headaches at all.
“What do you want to know?” Harry asked, excited when he had once been terrified. Harry never got to explain magic to muggles and maybe, if he did it right, Bobby would see that almost all witches and wizards weren’t evil.
There were a few, but not all of them.
Bobby chuckled and leaned his head back like a kid waiting for a story.
“All of it.”
So, bit by bit, Harry told him.
Harry explained what he knew of just magic up until lunch. Harry wasn’t sure what witches that Bobby knew, but they didn’t sound like real witches. Maybe muggles with potions? Harry didn’t know.
“Hex bags sound like a joke product,” Harry said while he helped Bobby make them lunch. Bobby said witches loved to use them, but Harry never even heard of them. “Hexes are spells, but maybe Americans put hexes in a bag? I dunno, that’s odd.”
“They ain’t very funny,” Bobby said seriously. “Hex bags can do some nasty damage, even kill ya if they feel up to it.”
“That’s… not good,” Harry said carefully. Harry wasn’t going to say it, he wasn’t stupid, but really most spells could be used to kill someone if the caster wanted to.
Wingardium Leviosa was one of the first spells Harry learned and Hermione wrote an essay on how it could be used to kill someone. And she did it for fun.
Bloody terrifying, she was.
Bobby asked about Harry’s parents while they had ham sandwiches and crisps for lunch. Harry told him the truth, how his dad and Sirius must have caught John Winchester’s eyes and how John caught Harry’s mum’s.
“So he was huntin’ witches when he went to London,” Bobby said. “I had Sam and Dean, hell they were just a couple’a kids then. John said he caught a case and wanted to see it through, he said it was personal.”
Harry wondered if it was Sirius and his fondness of pranks that made it personal (it seemed like a very Sirius thing to do to prank the muggle witch hunter) or if it was because of Harry’s mum.
“He didn’t kill your other daddy, did he?”
“What? Oh, no.” Harry thought that the mild concern in Bobby’s voice was kind of him. “No, I’m not sure what happened when he found them. Just that - er… well,” Harry grinned ruefully and shrugged. “Here I am.”
“Here you are,” Bobby agreed. “Eat up or your brother’ll be all bitchy when he gets back.”
Harry took that as a break in answering questions and he tucked in to their lunch. It wasn’t anything special, really, but with a heavy weight off Harry’s chest, it tasted like the best meal he’d had since arriving in the States.
When Harry said as much, while he rinsed and dried the plates that Bobby washed, Bobby waved him off.
“Your brothers are good men,” Bobby said firmly. “They’re stubborn and they’re some damned idjits when the mood strikes ‘em, but they’re good. Especially about family, ain’t nothin’ more important.”
“And John?” Harry asked cautiously. Sam… Sam didn’t seem to like their dad much and Dean made it sound like the man mostly had Dean raise Sam while he focused on hunting.
It wasn’t exactly a positive image of the man that was once charmed by Harry’s mum.
“John was a stubborn bastard, but he loved his boys,” Bobby said, too evenly.
Harry didn’t think Bobby actually liked John much either. Which brought up a new question…
“Did he make you their godfather?” Harry asked, automatically following Bobby out the back door when he said they could talk and work at the same time.
“Godfather?” Bobby adjusted the bill of his hat and grinned beneath it. “John made me a babysitter, I made myself - you know what, boy? I suppose I am something like a godfather. Yeah, yeah, I like that.”
Harry grinned as well and felt entirely at ease when they went in the garage. Dean’s car sat off to the side, actually looking rather nice with the glossy black paint they applied that morning. Bobby went to a different car though, a little red one that was smashed in on one side.
“T-boned,” Bobby explained, gesturing to where it was dented in. “I’m thinkin’ about fixin’ it up for Sammy, if Dean’s wantin’ to settle down then Sam’ll need a car. And,” Bobby handed Harry a tool off the cart near the car, “you can help me while you tell me about magic school full of wizards.”
“Okay,” Harry said, more uncertain about using tools than he was about talking about Hogwarts. So far, Bobby hadn’t reacted badly to anything Harry told him.
Until Harry started talking about Hogwarts that was.
“Hold on.” Bobby had the door to the car off the body - something Harry helped do with the ‘impact driver’ he had - and then paused. Harry looked up at him from where he had been kneeling to remove all the ‘bolts’ and blinked in surprise at Bobby’s suddenly annoyed voice.
Harry had been talking about the dueling club which led to Harry explaining what Parsletongue was and that it ended up being a rather handy language to know. Kids at Hogwarts had been terrified of Harry over it, but Bobby didn’t even know about Hogwarts until a few hours ago, surely he wasn’t already prejudiced against speaking to snakes.
“You fought a damn basilisk with a sword?” Bobby asked, a bit of a bite to his tone. “Those are - damn. I didn’t even know they were actually real. I thought they were like dragons.”
“Er… dragons are real too,” Harry told him. Harry sat down the tool he was using and rolled up his sleeve, showing Bobby the scar on his upper arm. “And basilisks are real too, they’re bloody huge.”
“Good lord, boy.” Bobby whistled and Harry tried to not be offended by being called ‘boy’ again. It wasn’t as… dehumanizing as when Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia said it. Though Harry doubted if he’d ever enjoy being called that.
“How’d a basilisk get in your school?”
That was a rather long story that involved a lot of back tracking —
“Wait, so Tom Riddle is actually Voldemort, the wizard that killed my parents.”
— and quite a bit of questions —
“What the fuck is a Slytherin?”
By the time Harry had talked himself out, probably speaking more in one day than he had his entire life, Bobby somehow got the entire wrong idea about Hogwarts.
“That school oughta be shut down,” Bobby complained. He was hooking a chain to the front of the car, something about straightening the frame, and he paused long enough to shake his head at Harry. “Ya got basilisks and dementors? Might as well toss in some hungry vamps and call it a party.”
Harry wished he could defend vampires, in the way he wouldn’t do dementors or basilisks, but Harry didn’t really know much about vampires. There was someone Harry could defend though…
“Werewolves are actually rather misunderstood,” Harry said while Bobby went back to hooking up the chain. “My last defense professor was a werewolf, he was quite nice.”
Even if he didn’t bother to tell Harry how he apparently knew Harry had a family… all those days they spent learning the patronus charm and Professor Lupin couldn’t say ‘Oi, by the way, I met your biological father in Las Vegas once’?
Rubbish.
Bobby muttered something about ‘God damned fuckin’ wizards’ but then he taught Harry how to use the large machine (‘forklift’) to use it to pull the chain and straighten the ‘car frame’ so Harry didn’t think that included him.
The rest of the day passed… much better than Harry expected.
Harry was touched when Bobby said that the clothes Harry found in his room were actually bought for him, not old clothes of Sam or Dean’s like Harry had thought.
And Harry truly had to use the loo, he wasn’t just hiding in there for a few minutes to think about how his brothers’ godfather was the first person to ever buy clothes for Harry, not including the outfit Sam bought him when they were on their case.
It was… a lot.
By the time the two of them were making dinner together (Harry had been helping make spaghetti and meatballs until he told Bobby how he used to do all the cooking for his relatives who also hated magic, then Bobby refused to let Harry help? Harry couldn’t find the logic in that, it was similar to Dean not wanting Harry to help against the bloke who could control everyone’s mind except Harry and Sam’s) it had been a very long and suspiciously good day.
Which was what Harry told Sirius when he called him after going to what Bobby called his bedroom.
“I think… I think I’m staying,” Harry told Sirius as soon as he answered.
Sirius looked better already, really. His skin wasn’t so ashen or grey, it was pink in the cheeks from the sunlight. Sirius’s hair was shinier too, clean and detangled.
Majorca was good for him, Harry was glad.
“You told them about magic then?” Sirius asked, looking just as happy for Harry as Harry was him. “What happened? Tell me everything!”
“Okay, well, Sam and Dean are hunting a vampire and you need to be quiet because I didn’t know how to explain you,” Harry said. Sirius looked affronted and Harry shrugged as he folded his legs up to settle in to tell Sirius everything. “You’re an escaped convict, Padfoot. You’re a bit difficult to explain.”
Sirius looked… proud then, actually.
Mental.
Harry told Sirius about Bobby and how he was sort of Sam and Dean’s godfather. Sirius didn’t seem pleased then when Harry gushed about spending the whole day working on a car for Sam and talking about magic to someone who didn’t hate magic. It didn’t matter to Harry, Harry was thrilled about it.
“And now Bobby thinks we can tell my brothers about magic and they won’t shoot me!” Harry finished, smiling so hard it was actually sort of painful.
Sirius’s half-smile dropped immediately and he looked startled.
“Pup! Who- they threatened to shoot you?!” Sirius demanded loudly.
“No, not really, shut up,” Harry hissed, freezing to listen to hear if Bobby heard him. When Harry didn’t hear any creaks or anything in the house, indicating Harry disturbed Bobby, he scowled at Sirius briefly. “I can’t exactly say ‘oh sorry that was my godfather, he’s on the run from the law, but don’t worry, he’s innocent’.”
Actually… maybe Harry could. To Bobby, anyway. He had taken everything else Harry said in stride so far.
“And nobody threatened to shoot me,” necessarily, “I just… er… sort of thought they would,” Harry explained haltingly. Harry assumed that, based on the knowledge that his brothers seemed to have killed maybe-witches-maybe-just-odd-muggles before.
“So… you’re not coming to Majorca then?” Sirius asked, making big sad grey eyes at Harry.
Harry’s face fell and he opened his mouth to - to…
“I’m kidding.” Sirius chuckled and smiled brightly again. “This is great news, Pup! All you have to do is tell your brothers about magic, tell this ‘Bobby’,” Sirius scowled and did finger quotes in the air, “about me, your godfather, and then - well, shite.”
Sirius’s smile slipped again, it was hard keeping up with his mood swings, honestly. He hadn’t called Harry James when he answered the call though and so Harry was taking it all as progress in the right direction.
“What are you doing about school?” Sirius asked, frowning outright. “You’re going back to Hogwarts, right? They know you’re leaving on September first?”
Harry still had an entire month to figure that out and so he took a deep breath, pasted on a cheery smile, and lied through his teeth.
“Of course I’m going back. I told them so.”
Honestly, Harry wasn’t sure Sirius would even remember he said that the next time they talked.
Harry slipped under his blanket, idly wondering if Sam and Dean were doing okay against vampires. Bobby said they’d be fine, but Harry didn’t know any vampires and wasn’t sure how difficult they would be to fight.
They were probably fine… it seemed like they had killed loads of creatures and- and witches.
Harry shivered and curled up tightly in the comforter. Bobby said they would find a way to tell Sam and Dean about magic, it would be fine.