The Witch and The Hunters

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Page count: 11

"You boys okay?" Hermione asked, thoroughly amused.

The brothers nodded in unison — blank, stunned, borderline short-circuited. It was the closest thing she'd ever seen to both Winchesters buffering. She chuckled and turned her gaze back toward the massive castle rising in the distance, its ancient stones catching the afternoon light.

Hogwarts.

A warm, nostalgic smile softened her face. The original walls, the rebuilt sections from the war — old and new woven together, a patchwork of history and survival.

"You lived here?" Dean asked quietly.

Hermione glanced at him — his eyes were wide, jaw slack, the most open awe she'd ever seen on him. Dean Winchester, who'd faced monsters, gods, and death itself, was struck dumb by a castle.

"Not only did I live here," she said softly, "I grew up here. This place... shaped me. Everything from the professors to the ghosts to the portraits — even the trouble I got into — it made me who I am. Some lessons were wonderful. Some... weren't." Her smile was fond, bittersweet. "But it's home. Always will be."

Dean looked back at the towering stone structure like he was seeing a cathedral, a fortress, and a miracle all at once.

Hermione took his hand and looped her other arm through Sam's. "Come on. Minerva's expecting us and she doesn't appreciate tardiness. She hasn't changed a bit since I met her at eleven."

They walked the path toward the castle, the spring air warm and gentle around them. Wildflowers dotted the fields, trees full and green, and sunlight danced across the castle windows like polished gold.

They were passing the Black Lake when Hermione stopped abruptly.

Sam blinked. "Why are we—?"

A splash cut him off. A huge one.

Both brothers jerked towards the lake on instinct.

A giant purple tentacle broke the surface, curling, waving, then another — massive, slick, powerful — before disappearing again with another rolling splash.

Hermione grinned. "Boys, I would like you to meet the Giant Squid."

Sam's mouth fell open. "It's real," he whispered. "It's fucking real."

Dean's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly hit his hairline. "That thing's bigger than half the crap we've killed."

Hermione laughed, pulling out a loaf of bread from her beaded bag. She toasted the slices mid-air with a flick of her wand, then tossed them into the lake.

The Squid's tentacles shot up again, snatching the toast with surprising nimbleness and shoving it into the enormous beak beneath the surface.

"He loves toast." Hermione shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Dean stared. "Sure. Yeah. Of course, he does. Why wouldn't the giant lake monster like breakfast food?"

Sam was still muttering, "It's real, it's real, it's real," under his breath like someone had reprogrammed him.

Hermione slipped her hand back into Dean's, hooked her arm through Sam's again, and tugged them forward.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, boys," she said as they stepped through the massive oak doors into the Entrance Hall.

Sam spun slowly, staring at every moving staircase, every flickering torch, every shifting portrait.

Dean looked around like a man witnessing magic for the first time — real magic — not something trying to kill him.