Lil Harry is cute, yeah? He's fun to write.

Chapter 3: Childhood

Worry became a constant companion for Harry in the months following his mother's death.

John was acting weird, and spending a lot of time away from his sons. He was...off. As if he had realized something and was waiting for confirmation that he wasn't crazy. He had done a one eighty from the loving father Harry had grown used to seeing. That wasn't to say that he didn't love them anymore, it was obvious he did, but he wasn't thinking with Sam or Dean's best interests as priority.

No rational thinking adult would leave an infant, a four year old, and a six year old alone for hours on end. Harry would have worried over their fates if he wasn't actually an adult in a child's body.

But Dean proved Harry's worries for naught. He doted on Sammy with a care Harry hadn't thought possible of him. Harry was the one that changed Sam's diapers and kept him clean, but Dean fed Sam, played with him, and talked to him as constantly as Mary had done. The baby seemed to notice things were different, he was fussy when John had him, and was only slightly less so when Harry took him. The only one who could calm him down with Mary's ease was Dean.

Harry often found them asleep together on one of the motel's bed, Dean's arm thrown over Sammy protectively. He was glad for Dean. Honestly, Harry knew the kid was the only one keeping them together. The wizard could admit that he wasn't in a right state of mind either.

Rage simmered under his skin, coiled tightly like a viper waiting to strike. He was pissed. Pissed at the fact that he had been powerless yet again where it counted most, that he had lost yet another loved one, another mother. The only thing keeping him from blanking out in rage like he'd done when Hermione died was the fact that his father was alive, and his brothers. They needed him. And he would protect them, come hell or high water.

Dean was acting as the voice of reason right now, grounding him and John with varying degrees of success, but still doing it, keeping them from being completely engulfed by revenge seeking and forgetting the family they still had.

He would grow up to be one hell of a man, in league with people like Sirius and Remus, who had laid down their lives without second thought for their friends and family. Harry was sure of it.

l.

Harry wiped the sweat from his forehead, slumping down against a tree. He was panting heavily.

He didn't have much strength in his current body and magical training did tend to take a toll on the body if one pushed at their limits. He felt like he had run a marathon.

His magic was progressing fast, bolstered by his emotions, both his determination and need to protect, but more by his anger.

Sneaking out was getting harder and harder since they all lived in a cramped motel room after the fire. His father was coming home later and later, and he just didn't want to leave Sam and Dean alone, not matter how good a babysitter the kid had proved himself to be.

Not to mention the lingering paranoia that they'd all be snatched away the moment Harry lost sight of them.

Having taken a small break, Harry hauled his tired body up, sparks running across his fingers as he pulled on his magic. He probed at the barrier surrounding his core, finding the small tiny hole and siphoning from it, slowly and taking very small amounts as to not overwhelm his body and cause it to shut down. If he introduced his power to his body this way, it'd give it time to adjust to the ever increasing power.

With a deep breath, he started up again.

ll.

"Why is daddy never around anymore?"

Harry paused in his changing of Sam. When the baby kicked a bit at the air in discomfort, Harry continued. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Dean, who was curled up on a chair, a frown on his young face as he stared out the window. Harry finished with Sam as he thought about what to say.

"He's busy," Harry replied, sitting Sam up. He was starting to grab onto things to pull himself up to his feet. He'd be walking soon.

"With what?"

Harry sighed, holding Sam's little hands as the baby took uneasy steps, using Harry as support. He thought about what to tell him. Harry honestly didn't know what his father was up to, but he had this nagging feeling in his gut that he would find out soon.

When John was around, he would stare at Harry with a considering look, calculating and intense. It wouldn't have bothered him nearly as much as it did if it wasn't for the fact that sometimes, Dean would have the same look directed at him.

Harry was spared from answering Dean when John came in then. He seemed tired, but he still smiled as Dean ran up to him with a cry of "daddy!"

Harry smiled. Even if he was unsettled about what John was doing, times like these reminded him that their father still cared about them.

John's eyes landed on Harry, and he put Dean down, ruffling his hair.

"Dean," their dad said. "Take care of Sammy for a little while. Harry, come with me." Dean frowned, but he hurried to follow his dad's orders.

Harry felt the hairs on his neck stand, but he followed his father back out without complaint. He knew better than to ask questions and didn't talk at all as they both got into John's car.

That afternoon shook his beliefs of the world he was in.

The supernatural was real in this world too, something Harry had already guessed at. He had felt the magic in the earth after all. But what was out there...it was so beyond everything he had expected. And so different.

His father was a hunter, a newbie as of now, and he was determined to track down the thing that killed Mary, because he was sure it had been something supernatural.

Harry pushed away his discomfort at the revelations his father dropped on him, he was technically a supernatural being too, despite being human, and with determination, he vowed to help with hunting down the monster that had killed his mother.

That day, John started teaching Harry everything he needed to know.

lll.

"What about that one?"

Dean was leaning against Harry while Sam was asleep on the wizard's lap, head pillowed by Harry's arm. John had gone on a hunt and told them he'd be back in a week at most. They were all supposed to stay in the hotel room and not go out at all, but Harry had not liked being cooped up since his cupboard days and Dean had started climbing up the walls. Even Sam had been restless.

After getting a promise from Dean to not tell their dad, he had taken his brothers to a nearby park in the very small town his father had left them in while he hunted. Night had fallen, and if he had been a normal child, Harry would have been worried about what could be lurking.

But he wasn't normal and Harry was confident in his ability to protect his brothers. His skill with his magic had improved greatly.

"That's Sirius," Harry told Dean, both looking up at the starry night sky. The wizard thought of his godfather. He would have liked Sam and Dean for sure. "It's also called the dog star. It's the brightest one in the sky."

"Cool," he yawned. Harry laughed, nudging Dean to get up; he had been teaching them both about the stars and constellations he knew for a couple of hours now. He did and Harry stood up too, gently cradling the sleeping Sam to his chest.

"Time for bed," Harry said. Dean protested for a bit but eventually relented to his big brother.

When the two were both sound asleep and in bed, Harry left them there with a small smile. He went to train.

Moments like these that he shared with his brothers were the only times Harry felt as happy and content as he had been before Mary had died. He wanted them to last.

lV.

"Dean, Harry, you boys take care of your brother, alright?"

They both nodded at their father, used to the drill by now. Dean bit his lip, but went back inside when their father made it clear that they were dismissed to join Sam, who had already told John goodbye. Harry stayed, watching the man as he reorganized his trunk.

Harry knew that John was aware of him being there but he didn't acknowledge his son until he straightened up and closed the trunk with a slam.

"What is it?" John asked wearily. His eldest son was a tough nut. He followed John's orders as obediently as Dean, but unlike Dean, Harry always found a way to do what he wanted without actually disobeying. It had been okay before, since Harry always went out of his way to do the right thing, but it was starting to frustrate John. In his mind, acting on your own could very well get them killed on a hunt.

He knew he was tough on the older two, especially when it came to Sam. Harry bore it admirably and often, if Dean messed up, Harry would find a way to shoulder the blame, steering it until John only directed his anger at him and John never noticed until the argument was over. By then he was more tired than angry, and he realized with a lot of guilt that the boy was doing it to protect Dean. From his own father.

"Are you going to be back for Christmas?"

Harry had always been very straightforward, ever since he learned to talk, John remembered. It was why he didn't beat around the bush or sugar coat anything when it came to telling his oldest something. Harry had called him out once on that when he had tried to spare the kid's feelings.

John sighed, feeling incredibly tired and old. There was constant guilt in his mind when he looked at his boys, especially Dean and Harry.

Harry was too mature, and John regretted for a brief moment that he had been forced to grow up too fast. Dean too. Though it warmed John that Harry took care of his brothers so well.

"Maybe," he said, not looking at his son. He had promised Sam and Dean he'd be there. "But most likely not."

John heard a sigh behind him.

"Okay," his son said at last. "Good luck, dad." Without another word, Harry went back inside as John climbed into his car. When he heard the door close, John started up the car and drove away. His boys would be fine.

Dean watched his brother come in, curiosity gnawing at him.

"What did you have to tell dad?" He asked Harry, who just smiled at him.

"Nothing important," he dismissed, breezing past Dean and making him frown. Sam was reading on the couch, and looked up when Harry sat down next to him. "What are you reading, Sammy?"

Dean laid back onto one of the beds, picking up some scattered magazine as he did, but that was mostly for show as he stared at the back of his older brother as he helped Sam read and pronounce long words. He had been sneaking out at night.

Dean had noticed it about a week back, having felt something was off about his brother and he faked being asleep. Harry had left for a couple of hours before he slipped back in and went straight to the shower.

Dean wanted to ask, but he trusted his brother and he didn't want to have a fight right before Christmas.

John never showed up.

Harry went out for a bit, on a food run. When it was just Sam and Dean, they fought and Dean ran off.

Harry came back just as Dean did and found Sam in the room, holding their father's journal.

"Sam," Harry sighed, stepping forward as Dean stiffened next to him. Sam looked between both of them, young eyes uncertain, but determined.

"Are monsters real?"

Harry decided to let Dean talk to him, and the wizard just watched his two brothers' interactions, smiling wryly and giving Sam a hug when his innocence was throughly shattered by the revelations of the things that went bump in the night. He had known Sam would find out eventually, but doing so on Christmas was not what he had wanted.

Harry loved them both, but he knew Dean and Sam were closer to each other, especially now that his father had started taking him on smaller hunts from time to time. He didn't begrudge Dean the gift Sam gave him. Harry's Christmas was complete knowing he had both his brothers safe.

That night, he slept in the middle, a brother on each side, and curled around him.

V.

"What is it?" Harry looked up from where he had been cleaning some guns. John had trusted him enough to do it since he was twelve and the man was out, seeing a friend as he had told Harry.

Sam and Dean were in front of him, fidgeting uncomfortably. Dean hid it better though. He stepped forward first.

"Why do you keep sneaking out at night?" He asked firmly, telling Harry from his tone that he wasn't going to stand down. Dean had been holding his tongue on the subject for almost a year, mostly because Harry had only snuck out a couple of times a month, but now even Sam had noticed and they both needed to know.

The wizard grimaced, not knowing that they had noticed. He had tried his best to keep his nightly activities a secret, but at age fourteen and ten respectively, Dean and Sam were perceptive kids. Harry had been prepared for them to find out someday, but Harry knew he was afraid of their reactions. He was afraid of what they would think of his magic.

John had taken Harry on a hunt last month, and it had turned out to be a witch. The entire time Harry had been in the presence of her, he had felt his skin crawl and his stomach roll in unease. When his father had killed her, it had felt as if Harry had stepped from out from a room of rotting garbage and into fresh air. Her magic had been disgusting and slimy, unsurprising because of the demon deal she had made and all the rituals she needed to do for her magic to work.

Harry had searched high and low but never found a hint or even a whisper of a magical community like the one back in his old life. He supposed it made sense, new world and all that. But it had been very upsetting.

Back when he had been ten, Harry had started writing down potions and their ingredients. He didn't think he could forget them, seeing as some of them, like the Blood Replenishing and Pepper Up, had been used constantly in the war, but it was best to be sure. There was a feeling in his gut that they would come in handy, but he needed to figure out how to get the more magical of ingredients. He hid those books well, and no one had found them yet.

"Dean," Harry started, mind racing as he thought of how to get out of this, and pushing away the gun he had been cleaning. His brother must have seen something on his face because the teen scowled. Seeing that, Harry let out a big sigh and pushed his bangs out of his face.

"Fine," he said with a grimace, standing up and putting away the guns. He was done anyways. Breezing past his brothers, Harry didn't look at them as he went to grab his coat. "It'll be easier to show you," he explained.

Sam and Dean shared a look but obediently followed. As apprehensive as they were, the two trusted their brother whole heartedly.

Harry led his brothers out of the motel they were staying in and towards a secluded area inside the park not too far. The two following him were whispering to each other hurriedly and for the sake of his nerves, Harry didn't try to figure out what they were saying.

This was a lot more nerve wrecking than he had expected. Seeing the way John had drilled into the boys that nothing supernatural was good certainly was making this really hard. But Dean and Sam were still young enough that their opinions could be tweaked and Harry did trust them.

Once Harry felt that they were far enough not to catch any muggle's attentions, he took a deep breath and turned to his brothers, both who had slightly wary but overall expectant expressions.

"I've been sneaking out because..," Harry took a deep breath. "Because I have magic."

His brothers both had blank looks on their faces, as if not really getting what he was saying. With a frustrated sigh, Harry flicked his fingers and out came his stag patronus. The majestic creature snorted, looking around to find enemies, tilting his head in confusion when there were none. Sam and Dean were pale.

"You made a deal? You're a w-witch?!" Dean was the first to break the silence with a half yell as Prongs trotted over to Harry.

"Of course not!" Harry shot back, irritated at being compared to magic so foul. Sam's eyes were wide, darting between both of his older brothers.

"Look," he sighed, rubbing at his forehead where his scar used to be, his heart hammering in his chest. Would they reject him? "I've been able to do this since I could remember. I don't know why," he lied smoothly. "I just can. That's why I've been sneaking out. Practicing."

"And you didn't tell dad?" Dean asked with a hint of accusation in his voice. Harry threw his hands up in the air.

"Tell him what? 'Hey dad, you know those things you've been hunting? Yeah, I have magic see, I'm one of them. Suprise!' Like that would have gone over real well," the wizard bit out.

"He wouldn't have hurt you!" Dean shouted back in defense of their father. Harry's expression cooled a couple of degrees. Dean's blind faith in the man had to go. Harry himself had been there once, placing his utter trust in Dumbledoor and the aged wizard had sent him to his death. John cared about his sons, Harry couldn't argue that, but his black and white way of hating anything and everything supernatural didn't inspire any confidence in Harry. Sam watched it all from the sidelines, shocked into silence as worry began to creep into his young face. He was more open minded, but right now, seeing his brothers, who he looked up to as much as he did, fighting...It wasn't a good feeling.

"How confident about that are you?" Harry's tone of voice was cold and sharp, making Dean recoil as if he had been physically hurt. The wizard took a deep breath, mentally scolding himself to take it down a notch. He had brought men to tears when he started up his 'war tone' voice thing. He was dealing with, for all intents and purposes, children right now, not an enemy, and even more than that, his own brothers. He needed to calm down.

He sighed, letting himself flop down onto the floor. The difference in height might put Dean more at ease, who besides having a stricken expression, his fingers were twitching towards his phone and the other hand, his knife. Call their dad for backup while having a weapon to defend himself, and by the way Sam was behind Dean, the youngest as well. If he hadn't been fighting a bitter laugh, Harry would have approved.

"I didn't make a deal, Dean," Harry tried again, looking down at his hands in his lap. "I just have powers." There. Not a complete lie. He stayed quiet after that, letting his brother pass judgement as he drew up backup plans in his mind for the worst case scenarios.

Sam watched the entire exchange, feeling some terrible emotion twist his stomach at seeing their oldest brother look so dejected, sitting there on the dirty, grass floor. He had been terrified to see Harry's blatant show of power, but his dad's words on the dangers of anything supernatural just didn't match up with the image he had of Harry. Dean was silent, shaking, thinking and hesitating. Sam frowned.

If there was one thing Sam was sure of, it was that Harry would never hurt them. Harry, who took care of both of them when he and Dean had simultaneously come down with a fever. Who, alongside Dean, had fussed over Sam when he had had the flu. Harry, who, when Sam had been shutdown from asking about mom from John and had been lashed out at by Dean when he asked the same, had taken Sam aside and told him everything the older boy remembered about their mother. Who laid down next to Sam, not embarrassed to do so like Dean, at night when he was afraid to sleep because of worry for his dad and fear of the things he now knew were out there, and ran a hand through Sam's hair until he fell asleep without complaint. Harry, his older brother, that sometimes had such a look of sadness and pain when he thought no one was looking that it just made Sam want to hug him.

Harry wouldn't hurt them, and Sam could understand why his brother had been afraid to say anything about his powers. If he had any, he'd be terrified of telling their dad too.

With that in mind, Sam stepped around Dean, ignoring his jerk of surprise and walked over to Harry. Dean tried to stop him with a frustrated growl of, "Sam!" But the youngest Winchester was a stubborn creature, and he glared petulantly at Dean, who shut up at the surprising amount of anger in that look.

Harry was startled when Sam dropped down next to him, latching onto the wizard instantly. But then, all he felt was relief when he tentatively put an arm around his youngest brother and the only thing Sam did was tighten his hold on Harry. Sam was kind of a cuddle bug, which embarrassed the hell out of Dean, but Harry welcomed it immensely. He hadn't had much physical affection his first childhood. Bolstered by the silent acceptance, Harry looked up towards Dean. The young teen had an almost betrayed look on his face before it melted away to shame when Sam spoke up.

"Weird powers or not, Harry is family," the ten year old declared as sternly as he could, pouting over at Dean. Harry was flabbergasted at the kid's seemingly easy acceptance, and the genuine surprise on his face must have broken Dean's resolve. The teen stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching in on himself as he glanced at Harry, looking like a reprimanded puppy.

Feeling dazed, Harry beckoned Dean over with his free arm, who came less reluctantly then expected, cheeks red. His little brother sure didn't like, as he put it, chick flick moments. But nonetheless, Dean plopped down next to Harry, letting the older boy put his arm around him in another silent apology.

They still all had stuff to talk about, but for now, Harry felt truly comfortable in his skin for the first time since his reincarnation.

The kiddy years are taking longer than I originally planned, but it's pretty much done. I couldn't fit in everything I wanted, but next chapter starts off the beginning of the show. I'll consider setting up a one-shot series of the Winchesters later, maybe.

Thank you to everyone who supports and enjoys my story, it means a lot to me. And thank you for your patience as well! The story isn't set in stone, so don't be shy about leaving suggestions as well as criticism. Every comment I hear from you guys is further inspiration to keep writing.

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