The Witch and The Hunters

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Page count: 6

A sharp 'crack' from the other side of the room had Dean springing to his feet with his gun pointed at the doorway of the bathroom so fast, he gave himself a head rush.

"Whoa, calm down, Mate," Harry said, his eyes wide as he held his hands up in surrender, showing he had no weapons or intentions of harming him. Dean grumbled beneath his breath, released a sigh and returned to his chair, turning his attention back to Hermione.

"How did you find us?" He muttered.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Hermione and I can track each other in case something happens to the other and we're captured or seriously injured and need help."

Harry's eyes turned to Hermione and he moved over to the bed and sat down on the edge, pushing some curls back away from her face and he noticed Dean's frame stiffen from the corner of his eyes at the tender gesture. Harry held his wand over Hermione and with a whispered spell, all of the dirt and dried blood left her body, leaving her clean.

"How is she? Was that Angel of hers able to heal her?" He asked.

"You know about Cas?" He questioned surprised.

Harry nodded. "I've met him a few times, once before the war and twice after."

"He healed her but there were some complications, he said something about the dark magic attacking her organs and her body was shutting down. He reversed the damage but he warned that if she ever falls under the curse again, it'll kill her instantly."

Harry paled considerably and Dean noticed that although he looked to have been healed and cleaned himself up, his glasses were still cracked.

"Thankfully, the Death Eater faction has been taken down, there may still be a few roaming around in other continents but when word spreads the others will give up. Hermione's focus will no longer be on capturing Death Eaters but on magical creatures now. She's still likely to get hurt but her chances of being tortured are almost zero. That's if Kingsley doesn't try to take her out of the field due to her health, but between you and me, he's scared of her, hell, so am I," Harry chuckled.

Dean eyed him holding Hermione's hand. "Just how close are you two?" He asked and Harry must've noticed the tone of jealously laced into the words as his eyes cut to Dean's.

"We are not now nor have we ever been sexually or romantically involved," Harry promised and something in Dean's demeanour changed, he didn't seem as stand-offish as his posture relaxed. "Hermione and I have a bond that's difficult to describe. She's told you about our lives, about the war and how we were raised?" He questioned and Dean nodded. "Well, my Aunt and Uncle weren't nice people, they despised magic and all those that possessed it whether they were good or not. Due to both my parents having magic, it was all but guaranteed that I would have magic, too, and they knew that. They hated me because of who I was. They never told me of my heritage and they told me my parents died in a car crash, when in reality they were murdered trying to protect me. I met Hermione when I was eleven-years-old and before I met her, I had never been given or shown any affection; she was the first person to hold my hand, to hug me, something so simple that I'd never before experienced. She was the first person to show me kindness and love. She was the first person to treat me not just like as a friend, but as family," Harry confessed, his fond gaze being on Hermione throughout his explanation.

"We have no secrets, nothing is off-limits between us, not even our bloody sex lives, which I admit is a little odd as much as it is horrifying but that's why we do it. Most of the time we make a game out of it, to see who can last the longest without running out of the room looking disgusted. The loser has to do a forfeit, a forfeit that's so incredibly embarrassing, it's traumatising. But, I suppose that's sibling rivalry for you," Harry chuckled.