Welcome, you brave human beings, to my story! I wish you all happy reading.

I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter. They belong to their respective owners, all I'm doing is using their work to improve my writing and kill all of your feels.

EDIT (8/14/2019): This story is officially being rewritten! This version of the story will remain up, of course, but it will no longer be updated. If you would like to read the updated version and what comes after where this story stops, head over to my other work "Close Your Eyes" for the first installment of the rewritten series.

Chapter 1: This Is Not a Dream

Alexandrite Haven Potter didn't think she was much of anything. She was small for a girl of six years old, all bones and much to thin limbs. Her raven black hair was constantly a mess no matter what she did in an attempt to fix it on her own, not that anyone in her 'family' would ever help her in this endeavor. Her emerald green eyes stood out on a thin, pale face. All the clothes she wore were several sizes too big, as all of the clothes she owned had once belonged to her cousin, Dudley.

She hated everything about herself, including her name. The only thing of note on her entire person was the peculiar scar on her forehead, shaped like a bolt of lightning.

It was the winter of 1986, and it was swiftly decided that the Dursleys would go on a vacation. Alexandrite was shocked to find that she would be accompanying them to the U.S.A. It didn't matter that Dudley pitched a pit upon discovering this, or that she had nothing much to pack. Anything was better than Number 4 Privet Drive, no matter where it was or who she was with.

Alexandrite slept through the plane trip and the drive that came afterwards. They were taken to a hotel, where she slept on the floor. The next day saw her following the Dursleys through the city, being sure to keep some distance away from them.

She was only mildly concerned when she lost track of them, too busy taking in all of the sights that New York City had to offer. It was nothing like the house.

It was exciting for a time, at least. When it began getting dark, and her stomach began complaining of hunger, everything lost its appeal. She hadn't seen the Dursleys in hours, and had no clue where she might find them again.

At least a week passed- she was shaky on the time involved, as later she couldn't much recall the time she spent scavenging for food and hiding from everyone. Her hunger was stronger than she remembered it being, making her body weak and shaky. Something else had happened, but she couldn't recall what. There was just a dull ache where the memory should be, and an unfocused fear.

On the final day, the one she remembered with clarity, she suddenly got the feeling she was being watched. The little girl stopped to look around, finding nothing. She frowned, her senses on high alert. Everything was still- too still.

The silence was broken as a man came barrelling into the alley she occupied. He caught sight of her, a gun held in his hands. "You have to get out of here. Now!"

She didn't stop to question the order, running out of the alley. Adrenaline filled the holes that starvation and exhaustion had left, allowing her to quickly distance herself from the man, finding a trashcan to hide behind and ducking down. Her breath came in gasps, her body feeling exhausted. She was weak and dizzy, feeling like she was going to throw up or fall over, unable to stand again.

A gunshot. Alexandrite held her breath.

At last, the man approached her with a serious expression, the gun pointed to the ground near his feet. They regarded each other for several long moments.

"Kid, where are your parents?" the man finally asked.

"They're dead." she answered.

The man frowned, "Who takes care of you, then?"

"No one."

After all, when had the Dursleys ever taken care of her. They'd probably returned to Privet Drive, forgetting all about her. They would celebrate her disappearance.

The man sighed, looking conflicted, before at last saying, "Come on. We have to get you somewhere safe. What's your name?"

She frowned, considering the question as she followed him. She hated Alexandrite. Her aunt had always said it as if the word was something dirty. She didn't want to keep it. Alexandrite was an orphan, the freak.

This could be a new start. She didn't have to be Alexandrite anymore. She could be something new, something better.

"Haven." she finally said, using her middle name to craft her new start. The man sighed again, looking down at her.

"I'm John, John Winchester. I'm going to take you to the hotel, and leave you with my boys for a few nights until we figure out what to do with you." John Winchester said, pulling out his keys and opening the door of a car. She shrugged indifferently, instead turning to inspect the vehicle before her. She immediately took a liking to it.

Haven, at the man's prompting, climbed into the car, a smile making it's way onto her face. She imagined the car as a protective mother that would allow nothing to hurt her. She fell asleep, waking up again when they arrived.

They walked into a room that smelled of cigarettes and alcohol. A little boy around her age was waiting by the door, jumping to his feet the instant the door opened.

"Dad!" the boy exclaimed, coming to a stop when he noticed Haven, "Who is she?"

"This is Haven." John Winchester said, "She doesn't have a home. I found her during work today. Can you and Sammy look after her for a few days while I finish up here?"

The boy nodded eagerly, obviously wanting to please his father.

"Thank you, Dean. I have to go back to work, but I should be back in a few days." John said, giving the boy, Dean, a hug before he left.

With him gone, Dean turned to Haven, his green eyes holding only curiosity, "Hi. I'm Dean. How old are you?"

"Six." she informed him, proud of every year. She wasn't a baby anymore, even if she looked like it.

"Well, I'm seven, and my little brother Sammy is three." Dean told her. Her eyes widened- seven? Seven was old. "Sam's sleeping. Are you hungry?"

She nodded. The day's excitement had distracted her, but now that he mentioned it she remembered that she hadn't eaten properly in more than a week. Soon, the pair were both sitting over bowls of cereal, discussing whatever came to mind. Dean was filled to the brim with questions- Why is your voice funny? How'd you get that scar? Where are you from? Do you have any brothers? How did you get here?

Haven made quick work of her cereal despite the discussion. She shoved the empty bowl away with a huge yawn, fighting to keep her eyes open through a wave of exhaustion. Dean seemed used to picking up such signs, and asked if she needed any pajamas to sleep in. She nodded tiredly, and soon Dean was shoving a tee-shirt and sweatpants into her hands, directing her to the bathroom. They were still large on her, but they fit better than anything else she'd ever worn.

Soon, Dean was tucking her into a creaky old bed, saying, "Goodnight, Haven."

She fell asleep, her mind occupied by how nice Dean was. She'd never been taken care of like that in her memory. If she hadn't been so exhausted, she would have pondered it for hours.

Haven woke up the next morning with a yawn. Dean was busy pouring a glass of juice in the small kitchen. A little boy with big hazel eyes clutched onto Dean's shirt with one of his tiny hands.

"Good morning," she greeted, standing up and stretching.

"Good morning. Say good morning, Sammy." Dean replied, nudging his attachment.

They little boy met her eyes for a quick moment, before looking down at his shoes and leaning closer to his brother, "Good morning."

Haven smiled, finding the small, shy boy adorable. Sam buried himself into his brother's side.

"Do you want something to drink? Dean asked, setting down the jug of juice and handing Sammy the full cup. She nodded, accepting her own cup with a quiet thanks.

Haven looked around the dingy kitchen, wondering what she could do in return for all of the kindness she'd been shown. Her eyes fell on the stove.

The raven haired girl set the cup down, pulling a chair over to the stove. Next, she looked into the refrigerator, triumphantly pulling out bacon and a carton of eggs. She ignored the mystified looks of the two Winchester boys, pulling out a frying pan. It didn't take her long to prepare breakfast, quickly setting the small dining table and portioning out the food, allowing herself the smallest portion out of habit.

Without a word she began to eat. It took several moments of hesitation for Sam to take a bite, then Dean.

"It's good!" Dean exclaimed, surprised. She smiled, her face going pink and she ducked her head down. Once everyone cleared their plate, she collected the used dishes and cleaned them up without a word.

The rest of the day, Sam slowly warmed up to her. Before she knew it, he was asking her all sorts of questions, and telling her all sorts of things. They watched t.v. and played games, and she found herself enjoying herself for the first time in long while. The second and third days were much the same. The fourth day they woke up to discover that John had returned, weary and worn. He slept a good portion of the day, so the three of them had to be quiet. Haven was fine with that. She wasn't used to being allowed to make noise, anyway.

When John finally woke up, he still looked tired and worn, "We have to leave, boys. Haven will be staying with us for awhile, until I take care of something. Go on and pack."

Dean instantly got to work, throwing the few things they had into some bags. Haven had nothing, so instead she helped Dean pack everyone else's things. Sam put away his own things sloppily, but they fit into his bag.

Soon, they were ready to go. The family trooped out of the room, Dean holding Sam's hand protectively. Haven followed behind them, slightly uncomfortable.

They packed up the bags into the trunk of the Impala, and packed themselves in. John sat in the driver's seat, Dean slid in the passenger's seat, while Haven and Sam sat in the back.

As they hit the highway, John turned on loud music that Haven smiled at. She could imagine the Dursleys reaction to it. Thinking of those red faces yelling insults to the artists of the harsh melodies made Haven decide that she loved John's music.

They ended up in another hotel after hours of driving. The next day, they continued the long drive. That day, they ended up in Minnesota. Upon learning this information, Dean and Sam both looked eager.

The reason for their eagerness was soon discovered-it seemed they were visiting a man named Pastor Jim. John left soon after introductions were over, after a talk with the Pastor.

Haven was nervous, but that nervousness was unfounded, as the man turned out to be kind, and he immediately began trying to make the girl comfortable and find out about her past. On that subject, she would say no more than that her parents were dead and what was left of her family had left her without looking back-both said with a bitter note in her voice that is uncommonly found in the voices of six year olds. The man frowned, but said no more.

Haven found herself growing close to Dean and Sam, but especially to Dean, as he was closer to her age. They just immediately clicked-it was hard to explain. Once Haven got over her shyness, it was discovered that the two were quite similar in temperament. Both Dean and Sam decided that they quite liked having her around, and even hoped that she would be allowed to stay with them.

They would get a chance to find out in a week, when John Winchester came back.

Thank you for your time. I hope to see you in the future chapters.