ONE-SHOT

Summary: Hermione's muggle boyfriend just had to be a Hunter, didn't he? Putting himself in danger, saving the world and spending weeks away from her at a time. But she loved him, and she had something important to discuss with him, something that couldn't wait much longer. She only hoped he would come home to her. Rated M for a reason.

Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and the creators of Supernatural. This is purely for entertainment purposes and I am not making a profit from the posting of this.

AN:

This is not related in any way to my fanfic, 'The Witch and The Hunters.' This piece is separate and stands on its own. I've had it partially written for a while now, and I've finally found the inspiration to finish it. This was requested by a guest almost a year ago, and well, it's now complete, so here we are.

Page count: 32

"When are you coming to visit? We miss you," Harry asked.

"I miss you too, Harry, and my Godchildren, and I promise I'll visit soon," Hermione replied to the large floating head in her fireplace.

"It's been six years, you said you'd only be gone six months, a year at the most."

"I know, but I love it here, this is my home now. I have a life, I have my business, I have Demon, and I have..."

"Yes, I know, your boyfriend and you're so in love it's sickening," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you're one to talk, the next time I see you making lovey-dovey eyes at Ginny I'm going to be sick," she scoffed at him, he grinned in response.

"Yes, but you haven't been scarred for life, and honestly, I never knew you had such a vocabulary or that you were so flexible."

She refused to blush. "Well, that's what you get for coming over unannounced."

"And I'll never make that mistake again, I like the guy, but I don't want to ever see that again."

"Poor you," she muttered, she'd been the one that had been denied the best orgasm of her life; Harry had no right to complain! She sighed. "Harry, I better go, it's getting late and I have a busy day tomorrow, so I'm heading to bed."

"Alright, I'll speak to you in a few days and you better visit soon."

"I will, I promise, as soon as I've gotten the shop sorted."

"Are you bringing your boyfriend this time?"

She sighed. "I doubt it, you know he works away and I don't know when he'll be back. He's really nervous about meeting everyone."

"Hermione, you've been together nearly a year, I only found out about the two of you 'cause I literally stumbled upon it." She snorted. "They deserve to know."

"No, they don't. It's my life, not theirs and I'm happy. For the first time in my life, I'm truly happy and it's because of him. Once I introduce him to the horde, I know everything will go pear-shaped, particularly with Ronald and Molly, they've never forgiven me for breaking up with him."

"That was six years ago," he frowned.

"Exactly, and they still won't let it go," she sighed. "Look, when he gets back I'll talk to him about it, but that's all I can do. Alright?" He nodded. "Good, I'll talk to you later."

"Take care of yourself."

"That's what I'm supposed to say to you, you're the one with the dangerous job."

"See you later," he chuckled, and the flames died down.

She stood up and wrapped her robe around herself, before heading to the kitchen where she made herself a cup of tea. She leaned against the counter, sipping at the hot liquid as she contemplated her life since her move to the United States.

After the war had been won, Hermione helped to repair the damage to the Wizarding World, before returning to Hogwarts to complete her education, all the while, dating her best friend, Ron Weasley. At the age of nineteen, Hermione graduated with the best NEWT scores since Dumbledore and with more job and apprenticeship offers than had ever been seen.

She went straight into The Ministry working for the RCMC Department, as she wanted to better the lives of those that were treated poorly, those that didn't have a voice and those that needed protecting from the wizarding race. Once Ron had completed his Auror training, they moved in together and six months after that, they got engaged. Life for Hermione was simple. It was safe. It was routine. But it didn't last.

It was three months before her wedding when she realised something. She hated her job. After two years at The Ministry and constantly having her legislation and bills shot down by the bigots of the Wizengamont, she realised that nothing could be done. It was after one particularly heated argument with her boss, that she quit and stormed out of The Ministry with every pair of eyes watching her leave.

Ron had always disliked her working and when he discovered she'd quit her job, he'd been over the moon excited. Excited that they could start trying for a baby and she would become a house-wife, just as his mother had been. Hermione wasn't ready for that. She was barely twenty-one, marriage she could handle, but marriage, a house-wife and a child? No, she was too young. She wanted to experience more of life. She wanted to see what the world had to offer. She wanted to escape the spotlight that was always on her, as that came with the title of War Heroine and Order of Merlin; First Class recipient.

Ron hadn't been pleased and he stormed out in a fit of rage. He'd returned stinking of fire-whiskey and barely being able to stand on his own two feet, literally face planting the floor and passing out. The next morning things came to blows and things were said and done that could never be taken back and Hermione packed up her belongings and left.

It was a week later when she realised that she was relieved she would no longer be marrying Ron. She loved him, but not how she should've. She wasn't in love with him, but it had been expected of them to marry by the family, by friends, by colleagues and the public, who had felt invested in their relationship since they were war heroes and almost every aspect of their relationship was reported in The Daily Prophet.

She didn't love him. He didn't make her stomach flutter. He didn't make her heart beat uncontrollably. He didn't make her blush. His touch didn't make her knees weak or melt her into a puddle. His voice didn't calm her, or the opposite, it didn't excite her. They hadn't been well suited together and it had taken quitting her job and leaving their shared flat to see that.

She wanted to travel, she had the funds to do so and she had the time. So, she left for the United States, travelling the continent and gaining new experiences, and she fell in love with the cultures, with the cities and towns, and with the experiences. She had only intended to be travelling no more than a year, and before she knew it, she relocated to the US permanently.

She scoured the continent until she found the perfect residence for her to set up home, Midland, Michigan. She found a rundown property in the Muggle World on a patch of land that meant her closet neighbour was two miles away, and it was perfect for her. The distance between neighbours meant there was no chance of a muggle witnessing any magic that occurred around the property. They wouldn't hear any strange noises, such as a potion exploding and spoiling and they certainly wouldn't hear her alert wards going off.

There was even a magical community nearby with a small shopping town centre where she could purchase any magical supplies she might need. With the help of magical contractors, she had the property fixed up in a matter of weeks, and once she'd settled in, she had decided to open up her own book store. It was in the Muggle World, but it was accessible to both muggles and wizarding folk. She carried books on every genre and topic possible, particularly academic books for the muggle college kids that attended the nearby college, and her book shop was always busy. The wizarding books were kept in a secret room that could only be entered by a witch or wizard and only after Hermione had granted them access.

For the first two years after her move to the US, her business was going well and she had even dated a few guys but the relationships didn't last long. After her third year, she found herself in a long term relationship with a muggle doctor and she fell in love with him. After almost a year and a half of dating, they had agreed to move in together, the only problem being, he didn't know she was a witch.

She found the courage to tell him of her secret abilities and he hadn't taken it well. It ended with Hermione removing his memories, them breaking up and he moved three thousand miles away to Washington. She had been a mess; it affected her business and her health. It had taken Harry taking time off from the MLE department and staying with her for two weeks for her to finally pull herself together and move on with her life.

For the next couple of years, she'd had a few more casual relationships, until she met her now current boyfriend, and honestly, she couldn't be any more grateful for her past relationships not working out; she would've never met him otherwise.

He was loud. He was fun. He was strange. He was handsome. He was protective. He was sweet and caring –not that he'd admit it. He was annoying. He was a pain in the arse. But she loved him.

She could remember the first time they'd met. Her newest fling had broken up with her because he didn't like that she'd much rather prefer to stay home with a book than go out clubbing with him. She was in need of a drink and she headed to the first open bar she came across. She'd been sulking at the counter, her head resting against her hand and swirling the liquid in her beer bottle in the other, when he sat next to her.

"Now why is a beautiful woman such as yourself, sitting alone in a place like this, and looking as though someone's kicked your puppy?"

She remembered looking up at him and the most handsome man she'd ever seen was beside her. Green eyes with brown flecks staring at her in intrigue and appreciation, his light brown hair naturally spiked up slightly at the front and his tanned skin illuminated by the lights of the bar. Even sitting down she knew he was taller than her, she estimated him to be at least six-foot tall.

"Men are arseholes," she'd answered. She could still remember the way his green eyes lit up at hearing her accent.

"Dean," he'd said, holding his hand out to her.

"Hermione," she'd replied, taking his offered hand and shaking it.

Before she knew it, they were stumbling out of the bar and towards his car. They tore themselves away from each other long enough for him to drive them to her house, and once they arrived, he'd spent the rest of the night making her forget about her trouble with men.

He'd been gone before she woke, but she knew it was a one night stand. She knew nothing would come of it but she couldn't help feeling a little upset by it too. They'd met a few months later, coincidentally in the same bar, and they went home together once more. The third time it happened, when she woke he was still there, sleeping beside her and she spent a good hour just watching him sleep. She'd half expected him to leave once he woke, but he didn't. He stayed and they barely left her bedroom, if only to eat and shower.

He stayed with her for almost four days before he left; only this time, he promised he would return to her. And he did a month later.

Before she knew it, she'd fallen in love with him. Their relationship wasn't conventional; he worked away and spent more time away from her than he did with her, but she didn't care. The time they were together she was happy, and she fell for him.

It was six months after meeting him when she finally put her foot down and demanded that they speak about their relationship. She wasn't just a booty call and she could no longer be that for him. It was to her surprise that he admitted he'd already assumed they were a couple. And at that, she decided to tell him the truth about herself, before their relationship developed and she was at risk of truly getting hurt.

Again, it was to her surprise when he pulled a gun on her and she discovered him to be a Muggle Hunter. After hours of arguments, insults, death threats and tears, he had finally lowered his gun to allow Hermione to show him her magic, proving that it was nothing like the magic from Hell. Proving to him that she wasn't evil. She told him of her past. She told him of the war and of those she left behind in England. She'd even retrieved Hogwarts, a History and the unofficial biography of Harry Potter, marking out the sections for him to read through and then she'd left him alone.

Hours later she was woken by him pulling her body into his and he held her tightly against him, placing kisses to her skin and mumbling sweet words and apologies into her ear. She admitted that she loved him, and he admitted the same, that he loved her too. He accepted her for who and what she was, and she accepted him for who and what he was too. Their relationship was settled.

He stayed with her for an entire week, learning more about Hermione and the Wizarding World before he left, only this time she knew what it was he was doing. She missed him when he was gone and she worried for him, but he always came back to her.

In the weeks and months that followed, Dean unofficially moved in with her since he would always return to her when he had a respite from his cases, no matter which State he was in. He kept his clothing there as well as his spare weapons and ammo. He had his own chest of drawers in the bedroom and his own wash products in the bathroom. He even went as far as to demon proof the entire property and the land it stood on, just so she was safe when he wasn't there, even if she did have magic to protect herself, and he'd insisted on her getting the same anti-possession tattoo as him. She'd thought him to be paranoid, but to appease him she got the symbol tattooed onto her wrist.

Hermione was pulled out of her thoughts and back to the present when she felt a tug on her robe. She looked down with a smile on her face when her eyes landed on the five-month-old puppy that sat before her, his tail wagging and his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. She chuckled, before putting her mug on the counter and kneeling down in front of him.

"Hey, Demon, you miss him too?" she asked, running her hands through the soft black and white puppy fur of her five-month-old husky. He was fairly big for a puppy but given the breed that was understandable.

The puppy made a sad whining noise in response.

"He'll be back soon; he's never away longer than three months," she promised, scratching him behind the ear.

Hermione and Dean had gone for a drive one day when they came across a stray pup on the side of the road. Dean hadn't been happy when Hermione picked it up and put it in the Impala, demanding he take them to the nearest vets, no matter how far he had to drive. The puppy had been two months in age, and after no owner being found, Hermione paid to have the puppy get its shots and vaccinations and returned home with a new pet.

Dean had chosen the name 'Demon' for the pup, when after only a few hours of being home, the puppy had run off with one of Dean's boots and he'd chewed it up to the point where even Hermione's spells couldn't repair the damage, and since then, the name had stuck.

Despite Dean's grumbles, she knew he secretly loved their puppy. She wasn't blind to him sneaking Demon treats when he thought she wasn't looking, or of them playing tug of war with one of his t-shirts. She'd even woken up one morning to find Demon asleep across Dean's chest, and that had been a funny sight indeed, she even had the photo to prove it, magical of course, since she no longer had to hide herself from him.

"I promise, he'll be back soon," she said to the whining puppy.

Well, she hoped he'd be back soon, as she had something she needed to speak to him about, and it couldn't wait much longer. Time was running out.

"Come on, it's getting late, let's go to bed," she said, standing up.

After putting her mug in the sink and turning off all the lights in the house, she headed to her bedroom with Demon following behind her.

~000~000~000~

Dean Winchester wasn't a complicated man. He lived for the hunt. He lived to protect others from the supernatural. He lived to be on the road. Hunting, alcohol and sex; that was all he needed in life. Or at least that's what he thought he needed, until he met the beautiful woman that was currently waiting for him to return to her and he so hated to disappoint her.

He could remember the first time he met her; he'd been having a particularly shitty day whilst working a case with his brother, Sam. They'd had an argument –which had been a regular occurrence as of late- and he needed some space. He'd headed to the first bar he found. As usual, he scouted the bar for anything that looked suspicious when his eyes landed on her.

A beautiful woman sat alone at the counter. Her wild, mahogany curls fell to the middle of her back, her pale skin glowed under the lights of the bar, her legs were crossed and bare, she wore ankle boots and a blue summer dress with a cropped leather jacket, his kind of woman. He was partial to a leather jacket.

As he slowly approached, he noticed that she looked sad, distracted; she had a sulky pout on her face. He slid himself onto the barstool beside her and ordered a beer from the bartender.

"Now why is a beautiful woman such as yourself, sitting alone in a place like this, and looking as though someone's kicked your puppy?" he'd asked her.

She'd looked up at him and her eyes had taken him by surprise. They were large, almost doe-like and chocolate brown. Beautiful, just like the rest of her.

"Men are arseholes," she'd answered his question, her eyes burning into his very soul.

His length had twitched at hearing her British accent, and he felt amusement fill him at her short, but telling answer.

"Dean," he'd introduced himself.

"Hermione," she'd replied, shaking his hand that he'd offered to her. He could still remember the jolt of electricity that had passed through him at her touch.

And before he knew it, they were stumbling out of the bar and towards the Impala, his hands pressing her up against him and roaming her slender figure. He'd had trouble tearing himself away from her and he couldn't have been any more grateful when they finally reached her house. He hadn't bothered looking around, knowing he likely wouldn't be there again, he'd just focused his attention on making them both forget about their troubles, and he did so all night, until she fell asleep in exhaustion. And then he left, never to see her again.

During the next few months that followed his one night with the pretty brunette, his thoughts had often strayed to her, but he put her behind him. He'd slept with a few other women during those months, but it hadn't been the same as it once was. It hadn't felt right to him, and Hermione's face would always enter his mind. A case landed him back in Michigan, and once he'd taken care of it, he followed his gut instinct and returned to the bar he'd met Hermione in. And much to his surprise, she'd been there.

They'd ended up back at her house again and they spent all night together as they had before, until she fell asleep in exhaustion. He'd snuck out when she was sleeping, trying to come to terms with what had happened. Things with her were different. They'd been different to the women he'd slept with after meeting her. It had felt wrong with them, with her it felt right.

For the next six weeks, his thoughts revolved around nothing but Hermione and he hadn't even attempted to sleep with any other women, which his brother had noticed and commented on several times, which ended in arguments. He'd had a case in Ohio, and once he'd taken care of things, he'd left Sam for a few days of respite and he drove to Michigan, seeing as it was the next State over. He'd hoped to find Hermione at the bar, and he had. They barely spoke before they left the bar together and returned to hers.

At the end of the night when Hermione had fallen asleep, he'd wondered what it would be like to sleep next to her, to hold her, to have her soft curves pressed against him in the night. Just for comfort, just for the sake of holding her close to him without it being sexual in nature. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and for the first time in his life, he'd stayed at a woman's house overnight and he'd been peaceful and content.

He'd discovered the advantage of spending the night, as when he woke the next morning, it was to see Hermione watching him. She'd blushed bright red at his raised eyebrow before he'd taken full advantage of them both being naked. They'd spent most of the day in her bedroom, only leaving to shower together and to eat, and fuck could she cook! She'd even made him a pie and it had been one of the best he'd ever eaten.

He didn't know why, but after spending the night and the day with her, the thought of leaving her didn't settle well with him. So, he didn't leave her for four days, and it had been the best four days of his entire life. To him, he'd gotten a taste of what life could be like, to have someone to come home to, to have someone to care for him, to challenge him and tease him, to not stand for his bullshit, and Hermione certainly didn't. When he'd gotten a call from Sam informing him of their respite being over, he'd been disappointed, but he had a job to do. He'd promised Hermione he would come back, and after a goodbye make-out session, which left him frustrated and Hermione giggling, he'd left.

He'd been away only a month when he'd returned to her, he and Sam had had the biggest argument they'd ever had and they'd decided to go their separate ways, to be lone wolves and take on their own cases. Dean had been confused, upset, furious, and he knew there was only one place he wanted to be, and he went to her. And he'd been right to. Hermione was incredibly smart and intuitive and she knew something had happened, yet she didn't pry, she didn't complain, she just comforted him.

And in that moment, he'd known she'd gotten under his skin like no other woman had before. He'd known she was the one. He'd known he was falling for her. He'd never been in love before, but he'd see it with his own eyes. He'd seen it in his mother and father, even if he'd been young. He'd seen it in movies. He'd seen it with Sam and Jess before she'd been murdered all those years ago. He'd seen it when he was working cases, or even when he was walking down the street.

He wasn't quite sure how to describe what he felt for her. He was happy when around her. She made him laugh. She didn't put up with his bullshit. She was smart and had a successful business. She was beautiful and he couldn't believe someone like her had even given him the time of day. He knew he was handsome but other than that, he was unemployed, he had no plans for the future, he had no money and he was a criminal, not that she knew that. He knew she was keeping something from him; something had happened to her in the past. He recognised the far off and dazed look in her eyes, he recognised the defensive stance she sometimes took, or the way her hand would go to her sleeve, as if reaching for a weapon. And in that regard, she was like him, because he saw those signs in himself, but he didn't push, she'd tell him when she was ready.

After six months of meeting her, he and Sam still hadn't reconciled and they were still going about their lives separately, and after finishing up with a particularly trying case, he'd needed to spend some time with Hermione, his girlfriend, or at least he'd assumed she was his girlfriend, until she brought up the subject of her being a booty call.

He had thought they were a couple. They spent time together, both in her house and in public. He stayed overnight. She often read to him at night, they'd be sat on the couch, he'd have his head in her lap and she'd run her hands through his hair comfortingly. He had a toothbrush in her bathroom, and he kept clothes there.

She'd been surprised by his admission, but also happy, and then shit had hit the fan when she'd confessed her secret. That she was a witch. He'd never been so surprised in his entire life, and it was fair to say he'd seen a lot. He would've never believed that his girlfriend was a witch, and he'd held her at gunpoint. It had taken hours for him to calm down and she showed him the incredible things she was capable of, proving to him that she was nothing like the witches he usually dealt with, and that had thrown him a curveball.

She'd told him of her past, of how she attended a magical school, of how she'd been pulled into a war at the age of twelve, of how she'd suffered, of the near-death experiences and of her becoming a War Heroine at the young age of eighteen. She'd retrieved books for him and marked passages for him to read over before leaving him alone. He didn't enjoy reading, but on this one occasion he'd made sure to read everything carefully, and much to his surprise, the books were nothing like the spell books he had come across before, the pictures had actually moved! And that's when he knew she was telling him the truth.

He'd been furious to learn what had happened to her, but that gave way to love and pride, and he wasted no time in finding his way to her bedroom. He couldn't stop himself from holding her tightly to him as he apologised profusely until she forgave him, which she did immediately. Then she confessed she loved him.

Dean couldn't believe it. Why would she, a beautiful, intelligent, strong, war heroine witch be in love with a piece of shit like him? Despite his doubts, he confessed he loved her too, and her eyes lighting up and her breathtaking smile had been worth the admission.

He'd spent a whole week with her, teaching her about his lifestyle of Hunting and learning more about her world and her magic, learning that not all witches were evil. She'd even taken him to a magical shopping centre which had left him amazed, and he learned quickly that some imaginary creatures did actually exist. He shouldn't have been surprised after everything he'd seen, but to learn that unicorns existed was taking it a step too far. She'd giggled at his expression, which ended in him ravishing her on her couch. He had to leave, and she understood, reminding him to be careful and to come back to her and he promised her he would.

Over the months, he went about his hunting as he normally would, dealing with cases alone, only every few weeks, he would return home to Hermione, because that's what she was. She was his home. He'd unofficially moved in with her, and it was only denying the inevitable. When he had time away from cases, no matter what State he found himself in or how far he was away from her, he always returned home, even if it meant he travelled for days and only had the chance to spend one day with her before he had to leave again, but it was always worth it.

He'd learned of her family and he'd been surprised by how big it was - brothers, sisters, sisters-in-laws, brothers-in-laws, nieces, nephews, Godchildren, he could barely keep up with her explanation, even as she used her magical photo album so he could put names to faces. He'd learned of her parents, of how they'd died during the war after being found and murdered by the enemy when she was eighteen. And he'd even met one of her brothers and it had been awkward as hell.

He'd been showing her how much he'd missed her on the counter in the kitchen, when her brother, the Harry Potter, stepped out of the fucking fireplace, not only scaring the shit out of him but completely ruining the mood. That had been the most awkward meeting of his life, but despite that, it seemed Harry liked him, which he was grateful for.

His thoughts wandered back to his Hermione. He missed her; she occupied his every thought and it was fair to say, his hand had become well acquainted with his dick, something he hadn't needed to do since he was a young teen, but Hell itself would freeze over before he ever thought about cheating on Hermione. He couldn't do that to her and he wouldn't, so he would satisfy himself until he returned to her.

He missed her laughter. Her smile. Her smell of apple and caramel. He missed her teasing. Her lecturing him. He missed her cooking. He missed sleeping beside her and holding her. He even missed the damn dog, Demon, and he was aptly named, since the little demon had destroyed one of his boots, three of his shirts, and even his pillow, and that was in one week alone. He hated to think what he'd destroyed of his since he'd been gone.

He wanted them safe and knowing that everyone around him was either hurt or killed, he made sure she was protected. He'd spent hours drawing demon traps in and around the house, much to Hermione's annoyance at defacing her property. He'd told her what to do should a demon find her, not that it mattered since she'd probably use her magic, which he was thankful she had. It was another layer of protection, and the demon wouldn't expect it. He'd even convinced her to get the anti-possession tattoo, and he hadn't actually thought she'd go through with it, but she had, getting it tattooed on her wrist.

And now, he'd been away from her longer than he'd ever been before. It was coming up to the three-month mark. He hadn't spoken to her as she didn't have a cell phone, and she wasn't able to write to him since he was never in the same place for long, and the use of an owl would be strange and difficult to explain should it be spotted delivering a letter.

He hadn't intended to be away from her for so long, but one case led to the next, which led to the next, and before he knew it, he and Sammy had bumped into each other working the same case. And after that, they'd made amends and they'd returned to hunting together; it was better that way, it meant the other had backup and they weren't spreading themselves too thin as the workload could be split between the two of them. It was clear things weren't back to how they used to be and it would take a while for them to repair the damage done, but they were slowly getting there.

They'd just finished their case and took out the Wendigo when they picked up the case of a werewolf, and they had to travel through Michigan to get to their destination of Vermont, which was a long ass drive. And upon missing Hermione and knowing they were going past anyway, Dean had decided to stop over in Michigan for a few days, after all, the last werewolf attack had been three days ago, and the next full moon wasn't for a month. They had plenty of time to take a short respite.

He was only fifteen minutes away from the place he called home, from the place he had set down roots, where he had a loving girlfriend and dog waiting for him, when Sam noticed he'd missed the turning he needed to take that would lead them to the highway that put them on their journey to Vermont.

"You missed the turning," he commented.

"No, I didn't, there's something I need to do before we head to Vermont."

He didn't need to look to know Sam was frowning.

"Dean, we have a case that we need to take care of."

"We're dealing with a werewolf, there's still a month before the next full moon and possible attacks; we've got weeks to figure out who the werewolf is, even if we take a short respite. I haven't had a day off in three months," he grumbled, as Sam eyed him strangely.

Sam was much like Hermione in the sense they were both smart and intuitive. He'd never told Sam about Hermione as he wanted to keep her to himself. He wasn't ashamed of her, he could never be, he just liked that he didn't have to share her with anyone, he was the sole focus of her attention when he was back; she took time away from her book store when he was with her, whether she was busy or not, whether she was short-staffed or not. When he was home he was her number one priority and she put him before all else. He liked that he didn't have to explain himself or his relationship with Hermione to anyone. And he didn't want Sam to judge his relationship with Hermione; he wasn't sure how he'd react if he discovered she was a witch, but he was most certain Sam wouldn't be pleased and he wasn't putting Hermione in danger.

"I'll drop you off at a motel, I shouldn't be gone long."

"No, thanks," Sam said, crossing his arms and leaning back into the seat. "If you won't be gone long, I'll just wait for you in the car."

"It's not a five-minute thing."

"I'll wait," he shrugged.

"Fine!" Dean snapped. He put his foot down, speeding up as he needed to get home before he lost his temper.

It wasn't long until he reached the familiar road that led onto Hermione's land, and before he knew it, he was pulling up outside the house and he shut off the ignition.

A smile crept up onto his face when he saw the place that was his home, and he saw Sam taking it in from the corner of his eye, and he seemed surprised. Dean understood why; it was a fucking big house!

It was three stories and built of white brick with ivy and vines winding up the building's structure. The large door was painted red, as were the window panes of the many windows of the house. The yard looked to be immaculate, even in the dark of night with not a single sign of litter or rubbish. Dean's eyes flickered over the windows, seeing every light off whilst also remembering what was behind each window.

The kitchen and living room were both on the ground floor and at the front of the house. At the back of the house was Hermione's potions lab, where she concocted her magical potions. He'd been sceptical at first until she'd handed him a Hangover Potion, and much to Hermione's amusement, he'd an instant like of potions even since.

The first floor held Hermione's master bedroom and en-suite bathroom, and he knew there to be a bathroom and two other bedrooms on that floor too. The second and final floor held another bedroom and bathroom, but the remainder of the space had been converted into a library and study. He didn't know why since she owned a book store, but his girlfriend was a book worm, so he didn't bother arguing with her.

His eyes continued to roam the windows, remembering one memory or another of his time spent with Hermione in the house, and more specifically, of their activities that had taken place in each room of the house.

"Where are we? What are we doing here?" Sam asked him, pulling Dean away from his pleasant trip down memory lane.

Dean's eyes flickered to the dashboard, seeing that it was well after midnight, in fact, it was closer to one in the morning. He knew Hermione would be asleep and as much as he wanted to see her, he didn't want to disturb her sleep knowing how busy she kept herself when he was away. He debated turning around and heading to a motel and coming back in the morning, but he didn't have the chance to. He saw a light switch on, he heard barking and the front door opened with Demon stumbling down the pathway that led to the separate driveway.

Dean chuckled, ignored Sam's questions and climbed out of the car. Demon reached him before he'd even closed the car door. He jumped up at him, reaching up to his hip and Dean smiled, and squatted down, laughing as the puppy yipped happily and licked at his face excitedly, clearly pleased to see him home.

"I missed you too, Buddy," he chuckled, scratching the giant fluff ball behind the ears.

"Who's that?" Sam asked.

Dean looked up, seeing Hermione stood halfway between the house and him, barefoot, her wild curls messed up just the way he loved to see them, and wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts. He loved it when she wore his t-shirts. It fell down to her mid-thigh, allowing him to see her soft, creamy skin in the glow of the lights coming from the house behind her.

"Are you telling me that we're stopping so you can chase a bit of skirt?"

Dean's head whipped around so fast it was a wonder he didn't give himself whiplash, not to mention, surprising Sam with the murderous glare that was his expression and clearly directed towards him.

"I swear to hell and back, if you ever speak of her in that way again, I'll kill you, brother or not!"

Sam stared at him, trying to decipher if he was joking or not. He wasn't.

"Dean?" Hermione whispered. Sam watched Dean's face soften before he turned back to face her and he stood up.

"Hey, Baby, I'm home," he said softly.

Sam's eyes widened further at hearing his words. At hearing that word. 'Home.'

"Dean!" she cried, before rushing to him and launching herself into him.

He caught her but stumbled back slightly, leaning against the car for support but he didn't complain, he just held her tightly to him and breathed in her scent. Fuck, he'd missed her.

He felt a wet tear hit his neck and he pulled back from her, lowering her back onto her feet. He brought his hands up to her cheeks and wiped away her tears with his thumbs, running them over her smooth skin and she leaned into his touch, making his mouth twitch.

"Why're you crying?" he asked softly.

She sniffled. "I don't even know," she laughed. "I just missed you." He smiled down at her. "You've never been gone this long before; I was worried that something had happened to you."

"Baby, nothing will ever keep me from coming home to you, not even death. I just got swamped with cases."

"I really missed you," she sighed. When she heard a bark she looked down to see Demon sat beside them, with his tail wagging and looking up at Dean. "We missed you," she corrected and Dean chuckled.

"Well, I'm home now," he muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. When he pulled back from her, he arched an eyebrow at seeing her biting her lip and looking up at him through her lashes. "What?" he asked, his lip twitching in amusement; he'd seen that look before and he knew what would happen as a result.

She smiled at him coyly and he felt his length twitch to attention. She placed her hands on his shoulders and reached up on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, her breath tickling him and his hands gripped her hips.

"Well, first, I want you to slowly make love to me until we're both exhausted that we almost pass out," she whispered, her tongue darting out to flick at his ear lobe and she heard his sharp intake of breath. "And afterwards... I've managed to get my hands on my old school uniform, tie and all. I want you to fuck me in my library until I can't walk."

She released a shriek as she found herself being hauled off her feet and over Dean's shoulder, as he quickly made his way down the path and to the house, leaving behind the driver's side door still open, a confused and surprised Sam, and Demon, who stared at Sam with his head tilted curiously.

A loud whistle was heard coming from the house and Demon turned and down the pathway, the door shutting behind him and the lights going out, leaving Sam alone in the car, in the dark of night, and in the silence.

~000~000~000~

"I love it when you wear my t-shirts," Dean mumbled, his lips blazing a trail of kisses on the underside of her jaw and neck.

She moaned beneath him, her hands moving from his shoulders and down to his jeans, which she quickly unzipped and unbuttoned, pushing them down and out of the way so she could take him in her hand. He hissed, before nipping her shoulder and she whimpered beneath him. She moved her hand over him, as he massaged her sensitive breasts through the fabric of her t-shirt.

When his hands moved to remove her shirt she quickly intervened.

"Dean, I need you, now!" she whined, shifting beneath him to better wrap her legs around his hips and he pulled back from her, looking down at her with dark, lustful eyes.

"But you said..."

"I know what I said, but I've changed my mind, I need you in me now!"

"Why the sudden change...fuck!" he cursed when she shifted beneath him to pull her underwear to the side and she bucked her hips, the tip of his length touching the folds of her slick centre.

"Dean, I swear to Merlin and the founders, if you don't..." she trailed off with a groan, followed by a sigh, when he slipped into her, stretching her walls and filling her.

He groaned loudly at finally being with her after three months of being apart. It was torture to him, being away from her; he hated it.

"You still want it slow, Sweetheart?" he asked her, holding himself up on his elbows and looking down at her.

She shook her head. "No, I need it fast, hard and deep."

He was surprised by her words and her actions since neither of them had managed to remove any clothing yet, he still had his boots and jacket on for a start. Now don't get him wrong, his Hermione wasn't a prude and she certainly wasn't shy when it came to sex with him, but she'd never spoken so crassly before, so openly about what she wanted. Something about her was different; she had a glow about her, she always looked beautiful, but...

He hissed when she deliberately clenched her walls around him and he got the message. He began his thrusting, starting at a slow pace so he could build up a rhythm until she was a whimpering, keening mess beneath him. She gripped at the lapels of his jacket, breathing heavily with her eyes closed and her head tilted back, and he panted above her, watching her expressions. Watching what it was he was doing to her. He loved seeing her that way.

"Harder!"

"What?" he panted, sweat beginning to slick his skin from his movements.

"Harder!" she gasped out.

"I don't want to hurt you," he frowned.

"If you don't do as I wish, I'll hurt you!"

There was definitely something different about her. She'd never threatened him before, well, she had teasingly, but she'd never meant it. He got the feeling she did this time. She wasn't usually that demanding either, but he listened to her.

He pushed himself up onto his haunches, using one hand to pin her hips to the bed and the other to pull her into his every thrust as he slammed into her almost brutally. He'd never been this rough with her before, he was worried he was going to hurt her if he wasn't careful, but it seemed he had nothing to worry about.

She flung her head back, her back arched, her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

"Fuck!" she cursed, and he groaned as he felt her walls beginning to flutter around him. "Stop!" she gasped, he stopped his movements immediately. Had he hurt her?

He was confused when she wriggled out of his hold, before rolling onto her hands and knees and sticking her bum out towards him. She pinned him with a lustful glare, and deciding it was best to not argue with her, he shifted behind her, rippled her lace underwear down the seam so he could pull them off her, and he gripped her hips, angling her as he pushed into her.

Her back bowed and she pushed back against him, but it wasn't possible for him to go any deeper. Before she could lose her temper, he thrust hard and fast, she moaned loudly, she could no longer hold her weight up on her arms and she collapsed onto her elbows, her sounds being muffled by the blanket. She suddenly clamped around him and it took every ounce of control and strength for him to hold back his own relief, as she screamed into the blanket. He gave her a few minutes to recover before he began thrusting once more.

"Stop!" she demanded and he did so, his breathing heavy, his lungs aching as well as the rest of his limbs and muscles. She was wearing him out.

She shuffled away from him, before pushing him onto his back and she quickly straddled him and sunk down onto him. Her head flew back at the new angle of penetration, she gripped his sweat-soaked t-shirt in her hands and he gripped her hips tightly. She moved over him, with him pulling her down into every one of his upward thrusts.

He tried to reach for her t-shirt so he could remove it, but she slapped his hands away. That wasn't the first time she'd done that. What was she hiding? Why didn't she want him to take off her shirt? He'd seen all of her scars and he loved her all the more for them.

Without warning, she suddenly clamped down around him, and this time he couldn't hold back and he spilt inside of her, his groans mixing with her screams. She collapsed on top of him and he was aware of how she made it so her stomach wasn't pressed against his.

They laid in silence, holding each other tightly.

"I missed you," she sighed.

He chuckled. "I missed you too, Baby," he replied, placing a kiss to her forehead. "Now, do you want to tell me what all that was about?"

"What do you mean?"

"The scary demands, the threats, the apparent sexual frustration, the fact that you wouldn't let me remove your shirt?"

She nibbled at her lip, a worried look on her face.

"What is it?" he asked softly, pushing her hair away from her sweaty forehead.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," he replied confused.

She smiled at him.

"Are you happy with me?"

"Yes," he replied instantly, not even having to think about it.

"Would you mind sharing me?"

"Over my dead body," he said darkly.

She chuckled. "I didn't mean it like that," she swatted at his shoulder. "I mean, would you be upset if our family of three suddenly grew."

He frowned. "I don't understand."

She sighed before climbing off him, moving over to her bedside table and she rummaged around in the draw, before pulling out a folded bit of paper.

He righted his clothing before sitting up and she sat beside him.

"Here," she said, holding it out to him.

He took the paper with a frown of confusion and his eyes fell downcast as he unfolded it. He'd never actually seen one before, but he knew what an ultrasound looked like, and he was currently staring at two small bean shapes.

"I don't get it," he said, turning his eyes to her.

She looked frightened as she shifted onto her knees and she pulled her t-shirt over her head and rested it in her lap to cover herself up, since he'd destroyed her underwear and she didn't want to distract him. His eyes immediately latched onto her breasts held snugly in the purple lace. Had they gotten bigger? He tilted his head to the side, he was sure they had. His eyes then moved down, seeing that Hermione's once flat and taut stomach was no more; she'd put on weight, and a lot of it.

He looked back up to her face, seeing worry and fear.

"You're worried that I won't love you because you've put on weight?" he asked confused.

She made a sound of annoyance. "Dean, I haven't put on weight because I've been stuffing my face with food since you've been gone. My hormones, the crying, the death threats during sex, the boldness and demands, my weight gain, the ultrasound..."

He still appeared to be confused.

"Dean, I'm pregnant," she said.

"What?" he said dumbly.

"I'm pregnant."

His face went blank.

Pregnant! Fucking pregnant!

"Are you okay?" she asked him, her voice quiet.

He looked at her before he darted from the bed, pacing back and forth. She watched him closely as he muttered to himself.

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. The word ran through his mind repeatedly. She was pregnant with his baby. He'd put a baby in her! He'd never wanted children before, he'd never even wanted a steady relationship until he'd met Hermione.

His thing with Lisa hadn't been a proper relationship, he'd latched onto her during a dark time in his life and he shouldn't have. He did grow to care for her and her son, Ben, and he did his best to integrate himself into a normal life, into their lives, but he couldn't do it. He wasn't happy. He didn't want to be there, not really.

But then he met Hermione and she made him want to be a better person. He'd fallen in love with her for her beauty, inside and out. For her kindness and compassion. For her intelligence and wit. For her strength and bravery. For her mistakes and achievements. For her magic and abilities. For her past and her scars. And now, she was pregnant.

Pregnant!

Fuck! He was terrified. He was nervous. He was confused, overwhelmed. He felt sick. He felt... Happy? Yes, despite the shocking and terrifying news, he was surprised to find that he actually felt happy. He was going to be a father. God, that thought was frightening! He didn't know the first thing about being a father, but he hadn't known the first thing about being a proper boyfriend either, and Hermione had helped him through it. He had no idea how to look after a child, a baby, but he knew Hermione would help him, she wouldn't let him fail.

Fuck! How was he going to protect them? If the demons got word then... No, he didn't want to think of that. Between his knowledge of the supernatural and Hermione's magic, they'd keep their baby safe.

"Are you mad at me?" he heard her ask quietly, her eyes downcast and her hands resting on her stomach. His eyes softened at the sight.

"Why would I be mad at you?" he asked, pulling himself together and moving to sit beside her on the bed.

She shrugged her shoulders weakly. "The Contraception Potion wore off earlier than it was supposed to, that can sometimes happen when you use low-quality ingredients or it's stored badly. I usually brew my own so I know it's reliable, but I'd run out of ingredients and I hadn't had the time to stock up on more, so I bought one for the time being."

"I'm not going to lie, the thought of children have never crossed my mind before, but neither had having a relationship and then I met you, and you've given me a life I thought I could never have. I'm terrified, I'd rather be up against a nest of vampires right now, but we're having a baby," he said softly, his hands coming up to rest against her stomach beside hers.

"We're having twins," she said, a smile coming onto her face at his words and she looked up at him.

He turned his eyes to the scan sat on the bed and seeing two bean shapes, not one.

"Fuck!"

She giggled at him. He shook his head.

"I not only put a baby in you, but two, go me!" She laughed loudly and he smiled at her. He loved seeing her happy, he loved seeing her eyes shining. "How long have you known? How far along are you?"

"I've known for about a month. I didn't really experience morning sickness or exhaustion or any of the other symptoms, but it wasn't until I noticed that I was putting on weight, my back started hurting and my boobs seemed to have gotten bigger."

"Yes, they have," he nodded in agreement, staring at her breasts with an appreciative look on his face. She smacked his shoulder and he looked back to her, not bothering to look apologetic.

"I'm four months along. The stage of my pregnancy, coupled with the fact we're having twins and that I have a small frame, is why my baby bump is so big compared to a pregnancy that's only growing one baby, I'm growing two," she shrugged. "I've really missed you," she sighed. "It's been hard not being able to speak to you since you've been away."

"Does anyone else know? Harry?"

"No," she shook her head. "My muggle doctor knows, obviously, seeing as I've had my four month scan, which I had done yesterday, and my magical healer knows since the twins are all but certain to have magic like me, meaning they'll go off to wizarding school when they turn eleven. I've been sure to wear baggy clothes as of late, I didn't want anyone to know until I told you first. Do you want to know the sex?"

"You know?"

She nodded. "I've known since I discovered I was pregnant, there's a spell wizarding midwives use to determine the sex, seeing as they don't have access to ultrasound scans. And I wanted to be prepared so I can get the nursery set up and ready for when they're born."

"What are we having?" he asked.

She smiled. "One of each, a boy and a girl, meaning we can start picking out names, too." He started to smile before a frown appeared and it worried her. "What is it?"

"There's not a chance in hell any guy is getting within twenty feet of her," he said seriously.

She stared at him before she burst out laughing.

"I'm being serious."

"I know you are, that's what makes it so funny," she laughed and he grumbled at her.

She laid down on her back as her laughter died down and he laid beside her, his head by her stomach and he placed a kiss to her baby bump. She sighed and ran a hand through his hair, her nails lightly scratching at his scalp.

"I'll give up hunting," he muttered.

"What?" She frowned. "I don't want you to do that, it's your life, you do an awful lot of good; you save people's lives, even the bloody world sometimes!."

"It's not my life, you are. You and our babies, that's what I live for. It was hard enough leaving when it was just you, but now I don't think I can leave knowing what I'd be leaving behind. I don't want to put myself in a situation where I can't come home to you or our babies, I won't have you raising them by yourself. I won't allow them to have a father who isn't there 'cause the hunting lifestyle's taken him. Our babies aren't going to have the childhood I had," he promised, his hand resting on her stomach and his eyes locked on hers.

The tears welling in her eyes spilt over and rolled down her cheeks.

"Sorry, hormones," she sniffled, wiping her tears away.

"How am I supposed to leave you like this? I'm giving up hunting, it's going to be hard for me to do, as I know from past experience, but this time I won't give in. You're more important to me and I won't lose you. I can't lose you. Between both of us, we can protect our babies and we can raise them right."

Her fingers danced over his forehead, down his cheek, over his jaw and then wound back into his hair, light scratching at the nape of his neck in the way she knew calmed and comforted him.

"Your words and intentions just now have already made you a wonderful father, and I have no doubt our children will see you as a role model, and I'd be proud if they did. But, do you know what'd make you an even better father?"

"What?"

"If you'd get me some chocolate ice-cream," she answered.

He arched an eyebrow. "Do you have any in the freezer?"

"No, I ate it all for dinner," she appeared sheepish.

He muffled his laughter by biting the inside of his cheek and breathing through his nose.

"And where am I supposed to find chocolate ice-cream at..." he looked up to her alarm clock, "Three-thirty in the morning?"

"I don't know, but can you pick me up some anchovies, too? Oh, and I'd kill for some popcorn. Whilst you're out, will you get me some buffalo wings, I've been eating them nonstop for the last two weeks?" He stared at her, speechless. "Please?" she pleaded. She looked as though she was going to cry and he muffled his laughter by pressing his lips to her stomach in a kiss.

"Sure, what the mother of my babies wants, the mother of my babies gets," he said.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" she sighed. "Can you get me some cheesy Doritos as well?"

"Make me a list," he chuckled, before kissing her on her stomach once more, and then reaching up to press a kiss to her lips before he stood and left to the bathroom.

When he returned she handed him the list, seeing that she'd added a few more things to what she'd previously wanted.

"Is this everything?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright, I'll be back soon, you try and get some sleep."

He turned and just as he reached the door, she spoke.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Add peanut butter to the list."

His lip twitched as he watched her lounging on the bed, her hand resting against her stomach since she still hadn't donned a shirt, not that he was complaining.

He loved her. She was his. She was his life. She was going to be the mother of the children he never dreamed he would have. He was going to be a father because of her. He was happy because of her. She made him feel loved and cared for and free. She protected him from his own self-deprecating thoughts.

He was certain God had finally come through for him and repaid him for all of his sacrifices and suffering for the world and humanity, and he'd done so by ensuring he'd meet Hermione Granger. The woman of his dreams. His saviour. He never wanted to lose her. He wanted the whole world to know she was his and that she loved him just as much as he loved her.

"Marry me?"

"Excuse me?" she said, her eyes wide.

"Marry me?"

Her brow furrowed as she pushed herself up onto her elbows. "Dean, if you're only doing this because I'm pregnant..."

"I'm not," he interrupted. "I love you and I want you to be my wife."

Her beautiful eyes observed him carefully, silently.

"If you add twinkies to the list, I'll marry you."

He gave her that smile, the one he only reserved for her and her heart fluttered at the sight. God, he was handsome!

"Then I guess we're getting married," he grinned, turning and leaving the room.

Just as he reached the stairs, Hermione shouted, "DEAN, I'D MURDER FOR A PEPPERONI PIZZA!"

He snorted, this was his life now and he couldn't be any happier. He'd take all of Hermione's mood swings, symptoms and cravings in stride. He peered over his shoulder at the bedroom door before he made his way through the house and to the ground floor, where he found Demon sat on the mat by the front door, guarding the house.

"Hey, Buddy," he greeted, crouching before him. "I'll be back soon, keep an eye on her for me," he instructed, petting him on the head and receiving a lick to the hand in return before he stepped outside and used the spare key that Hermione kept hidden in the flower pot to lock up, not that he didn't have a key because he did, though it was currently in the Impala and he wasn't making two trips.

He headed to the car and slammed the door shut, effectively waking a slumbering Sam and he banged his head off the window as he startled awake. Sam eyed him in annoyance, seeing his rumpled clothing and a sweat-soaked shirt that hadn't yet completely dried, not to mention, he was practically joyful and he had that distinct sweat and sex smell about him.

"You finished getting your jollies now?" he grumbled.

Dean didn't reply, he didn't get angry or pull a face; rather, he had a secret and content smile on his face as he pulled away from the house, not rising to the bait. He was too happy.

"Who is she?" Sam finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

Dean tore his gaze from the road, eyeing his brother carefully, deciding whether or not he should tell him the truth. If he could trust him not to harm Hermione or threaten her, especially given her current delicate state.

"I'll find out sooner or later," he pointed out, folding his arms over his chest and giving him a look of challenge.

Dean sighed in defeat; he was right, he would eventually find out since he was going to be an Uncle. His girlfriend was pregnant, he thought with a smile.

"Hermione, she's my girlfriend." Sam looked surprised by the news. Stunned, shocked, confused. Dean almost laughed. "We've been together for almost a year." Sam made a spluttering sound. "We live together and that puppy is ours, he's called Demon 'cause the little demon won't stop chewing up my shoes and shirts. I don't care how adorable he is, he's the devil reincarnated. I swear, he was put on this earth to do nothing but eat my clothes and steal my girlfriend's attention."

Sam made a choking sound at the revelation of his living arrangements and he reached for the bottle of water in the back seat, taking a large swig before turning his wide, surprised eyes back to him and saying,

"A year? Why've you never told me about her? Is this where you'd disappear to all the time?"

"Yeah, I came home to her as soon as I could like I promised her I would. I didn't tell you 'cause I didn't want to. I liked not having to share her with anyone, I liked the idea that she was mine, that she was something I could go home to and that she'd be safe 'cause no one knew she existed."

"Have you thought this through? Think about what happened with Lisa and Ben," his brother reminded him.

Dean narrowed his eyes before turning back to the road. "I know what I'm doing, Sammy. She's the one."

"You said that about Lisa."

"No, I didn't," he denied, because he'd definitely never said that. He knew. "I cared about her, I loved her but I wasn't in love with her. Not like I am with Hermione. I should've never stayed with her and Ben, they weren't good for me and I certainly wasn't good for them. You were gone, Bobby was a mess, Cas was doing his thing up in heaven, we'd lost Ellen and Jo. I couldn't cope. I stayed with her 'cause it gave me a routine, it kept me busy, gave me something else to focus on, it was a distraction. I may have grown to care for her and Ben, but my time with them a mistake and one I regret. But Hermione... She makes everything better. Everything with her is different. She's not like other women. I don't deserve her but I'm not letting her go. She's my home, my respite, my salvation and distraction from the fucked up world we live in."

Sam sighed, knowing it was best not to continue with the current topic of conversation. "Where are we going?"

SIlently, Dean reached into his pocket, removed Hermione's list of cravings and then handed it to Sam.

"Jello, buffalo wings, marshmallows, ice-cream, anchovies... What's this?"

"Hermione has a few cravings," he shrugged.

"Is she always like this?"

"No, this is a new development," he replied, unable to stop the way his mouth twitched into a smile. "Don't let me forget twinkies, my future depends on it."

It really did. If he returned without them, Hermione wouldn't marry him.

~000~000~000~

By the time they'd managed to find everything on Hermione's list and returned to the house, it was almost six in the morning and Dean was exhausted but happy. Dean entered the house first, noting that Demon was waiting for him by the staircase, likely having heard the Impala from outside.

"Hey, Buddy, she asleep?" he asked the puppy.

He barked in response and then turned his eyes to Sam as he stepped into the house and closed the door behind him, his eyes searching his surroundings cautiously, curiously. Dean only prayed he didn't notice any of Hermione's magical items or photos since he hadn't had time to ease Sam into it slowly, or even mention the 'W' word.

Dean headed to the kitchen to put away the food and then he climbed the stairs, briefly stopping to show Sam to his room for the night. When Dean entered his room with Demon behind him, he absentmindedly closed the door behind him, his focus settled on a slumbering Hermione. After he stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed, he tugged her to him with his hand resting against her baby bump, and the mattress dipped when Demon jumped up and curled himself up at the foot of the large bed.

"Did you get everything?" Hermione mumbled sleepily.

"Yeah, and your pizza's in the microwave," he said.

She smiled. "Did you get twinkies?"

"Enough to last you a few months," he replied.

She chuckled sleepily. "Then I guess I'm going to be Mrs. Winchester."

~000~000~000~

Hermione was the first to wake, and after watching Dean sleep with a peaceful smile on his face, she climbed out of bed and quickly headed to the bathroom. Once she'd completed her morning routine of showering and emptying her bladder, she used her wand to dry herself off and she dressed in a pair of leggings and another of Dean's shirts, before heading downstairs to make breakfast, leaving Dean and Demon to their beauty sleep.

She was using magic to help speed up the cooking times since she was starving, and when she heard footsteps she turned around with a smile on her face, expecting to see Dean, only it wasn't him.

There was a man, taller than Dean and he looked to be more muscular too, with darker eyes and hair, and he was stood with a gun pointed in her direction.

She screamed bloody murder, scrambling backwards until her back hit the counter. Loud and fast footfalls and barking could be heard before Dean came running into the kitchen, wide awake, wearing nothing but his boxers and with his gun in his hand and Demon beside him, growling viciously at the intruder. Upon seeing the situation, Dean sighed but he didn't release the hold on his gun.

"Why the fuck are you pointing your gun at my girlfriend?" Dean demanded, not sounding pleased as he walked over to Hermione and he took her shaking form in his arms. She buried her face into his chest in fright, worrying him a little, and he rubbed a comforting arm over her back.

She wasn't normally scared so easily, but he assumed her pregnancy hormones and her fear for the babies in her stomach, coupled with the fact that a man she'd never seen before was currently in her house and pointing a gun at her, had seriously shaken her up.

"Well?"

"She's a fucking witch!" Sam snapped, expecting Dean to kill her himself.

Dean's expression remained blank, bored, unconcerned.

"No, she's not...Well, she is, but not that kind of witch...Fuck...This is awkward," he sighed as Sam glared at him. "Hermione, why don't you get those books you showed me?" he said gently.

She nodded and sniffled, quickly leaving the room without a second glance to his brother but still aware that Demon had yet to stop growling or baring his teeth threateningly.

"You're shacking up with a witch!"

Dean summoned Demon to his side with a quick whistle and the puppy was beside him instantly. Dean reached down, scratching him behind the ears, signalling to him there was no threat of danger and there was no need for him to protect Hermione or him.

"She's not our kind of witch; she's a different kind, a good witch," Dean argued.

"There's no such thing," Sam spat.

"That's what I thought, too, until she told me of the hidden Magical World that's kept a secret from humans without magic, and she was able to prove it to me. She didn't sell her soul or commit human sacrifice, she was born with her magic, and she's far stronger than any witch we've ever come across. She uses a wand to control her magic, how many witches have we dealt with that have wands? I saw her brother walk out of her fucking lit fireplace without injury. I watched her disappear and reappear on the other side of the room in the blink of an eye. She levitated the Impala, she jumped out of her second floor window and used magic to slow down her fall so she landed without injury. I've watched her make dinner using her magic to speed up the process. She's given me one of her magic potions before which eradicates a Hangover, seriously, witches and wizards as fucking geniuses! She's even taken me shopping to one of her magical towns. Even her photos move," Dean explained, waving a hand in the general direction of the living room but Sam looked unconvinced.

Hermione came back into the kitchen and she put the books on the breakfast bar before walking back over to Dean and Demon moved so he sat in front of her protectively, watching Sam with wary eyes.

"Read the sections she's marked, it'll explain everything and prove to you my girlfriend's not only good, but she's a strong, kick-ass witch that helped to win a magical war that she fought in between the ages of twelve and eighteen, she makes our childhood look normal." He then turned his attention to Hermione, completely ignoring his brother's presence. "You okay?" he asked her softly.

She nodded. "Who is he?"

"My brother, Sam," he responded.

"But I thought you went your separate ways," she frowned.

"Yeah, we did, but we met up on a case after I left and we decided it was best that we hunt together, it's safer that way." He lifted his hand to her stomach. "You sure you're okay? Babies alright?"

"We're fine, just hungry. I forgot to mention, I made you a pie yesterday."

"You are the perfect woman," he said, wrapping his arms around her with an appreciate groan.

"I baked one every other day, so I would always have one for when you came home. I know how much you love pie."

"And that's one of the reasons I can't wait to marry you."

"There's more than one?" she cocked an eyebrow.

"More than I can count," he mumbled, kissing her softly.

She pulled back from him suddenly with a panicked look on her face.

"The bacon!" she shrieked.

He laughed at her as she darted over to the oven.

~000~000~000~

"Is there a reason you're standing there, Sammy?" Dean looked up to the living room doorway.

He and Hermione were sat in the living room on the couch, Hermione with her legs over Dean's and her head pressed to his shoulder, as he had his arms around her and she read one of her magical textbooks to him. Demon was beside him on the couch asleep, lying on his back with his legs and paws in the air. Dean had never met a dog like him, and yes, he annoyed him by stealing his girlfriend's attention, and yes, he was mad when he ate his shoes and clothing, but if he were honest, he wouldn't have the pain in the ass any other way.

"I'm sorry," he said.

Hermione looked up from her book.

"Are you?" she questioned.

"Yes," he sighed, moving into the room to sit on the couch opposite them, his eyes not missing the way Dean looked at Hermione lovingly, or the way one of his hands slipped to Hermione's stomach, confusing him.

"You're an arsehole," she commented lightly.

Sam's eyes bulged out of his head and Dean laughed loudly.

"I can see why you like her," Sam said to Dean.

"I love her," Dean corrected.

Sam cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable.

"You're a War Heroine?"

"Unfortunately,"

"Why'd you move here?"

She shrugged. "After the war, I returned to school, once I graduated I went straight into the Magical Government. I wanted to help the magical creatures that were treated unfairly by wizarding folk, I wanted to help them have a better way of life, but after two years I realised that nothing I did would ever matter, prejudice will always exist and it can't be stopped. I hated my job and I quit, I had a disagreement with my boyfriend regarding my future as a housewife, and we broke up. I wanted to get away from the spotlight of being a War Heroine and I left Britain to do some travelling. After a year I decided to stay, and I moved here permanently."

"The book mentioned you received an award."

"Yes," she sighed. "It's the magical equivalent to the Medal of Honour."

Sam made a spluttering sound and Dean looked at her proudly. Taking a breath, he shook his head.

"What d'you do? Do you work in the Magical World?"

"Not really, I own a book shop that's accessible to both non-magicals and wizarding folk, the books and resources are kept separate. I've actually just opened my second shop."

"You have?" Dean asked surprised.

She smiled. "Yes, it's based near Harvard University, there's a magical university nearby, too, so that particular shop is more academically based, I still haven't gotten everything sorted yet, but it's already proving to be successful."

"You've been together for a year?" Sam said. They both nodded. "How serious is this between the two of you?"

They looked at each other and shared a smile.

Dean gestured to the ceiling and front door and Sam turned his eyes in their direction, seeing the demon traps and some Enochian sigils painted on the surfaces, showing exactly how serious Dean was, and he noticed the anti-possession symbol on Hermione's wrist, too. Dean wouldn't give Hermione such protection if he didn't have plans to stay with her and keep her safe.

"I love her. I live with her. We have a dog. And I'm marrying her."

"What!" Sam had a coughing fit. Much to his surprise, Hermione pulled her wand, conjured a glass and filled it with water before it floated over to him.

"Tomorrow," Dean nodded.

"Tomorrow!" Sam exclaimed.

Hermione arched a questioning eyebrow. That was news to her.

"Yes, tomorrow, if that's alright with you," he turned his green gaze to her. "I have a guy that can carry out the ceremony and there's no one more qualified than him."

"Who?"

"Cas," he shrugged.

"The Angel?" He nodded. She smiled. "Then we're getting married tomorrow, I'll contact Harry later, he can be a witness. Although, he's not going to be happy that the rest of my family don't even know you exist, and they'll be furious when they discover we're married. He wants me to visit, but it's going to be difficult to keep our new circumstances a secret."

He shrugged. "We'll visit after we're married."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, it's about time I meet the rest of the horde that raised you," he smiled and she lightly smacked his arm.

"I don't understand..." Sam muttered. "Why're you getting married so quickly? Why're you getting married at all? You said you'd never marry. What if things turn badly like they did with Lisa?"

"Who's Lisa?" Hermione frowned, looking to Dean questioningly.

He shrugged his shoulders. "No one, it was a long time ago and she doesn't compare to you, I promise." He then turned to Sam. "I love her; I don't plan to leave her or to have anything get in the way of being with her. I'm giving up hunting."

Sam looked to be on the verge fainting, he swayed a little and leaned back into the couch. "You've tried that before, it didn't work."

"This time I'll make it work. I can't leave her, not now, not after what I now know. It's my choice to give up hunting, she tried to convince me otherwise but it's what I need to do. I need to be here for her."

"Why?"

Dean and Hermione smiled at each other before Hermione put her feet on the ground and stood up. She lifted her shirt to display her baby bump and Sam's eyes widened, he was shocked into silence.

"I'm four months pregnant, and we're having twins, a boy and a girl," she said with a happy smile.

Sam turned his eyes to Dean, seeing him staring at Hermione with the most loving and happiest expression he had ever seen grace his face, his gaze darting between her smiling face and her baby bump.

"I only found out last night, I've been away from her for three months and she's only known a month herself, but she had no way of contacting me to let me know sooner."

"The strange food requests at four in the morning?" Sam said quietly.

Dean nodded. "Pregnancy cravings, anything my girl wants, she gets," he said, gently tugging Hermione into his lap and wrapping his arms around her, his hands resting against her baby bump and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "She agreed to marry me if I got her twinkies, hence the reason I cleared out the store," he said amused. "If I'd have known that was all it was going to take, I'd have bought shares in the damn company," he muttered, his nose nuzzling at her neck.

Hermione's gaze darted between the brothers and it was clear they needed to talk, and alone would be best so she made her excuses.

"I'm hungry, and I have to pee," she said, disentangling Dean's arms from her and she stood and left the room.

"Have you thought this through?" Sam asked him, after waiting for Hermione to leave through the door.

Dean leaned back into the couch, snorting in amusement when Demon gave a particularly loud snore in his sleep, before turning his attention to his brother.

"She's the one, Sammy, and she has been since I met her. I love her, she's my life."

"How'd you meet?"

"In a bar." Sam rolled his eyes. "After I left, she kept creeping into my thoughts, I slept with other women but it wasn't the same as before. After a while, I came back and we met in the same bar. Again, I left but I couldn't stop thinking about her. When I returned for the third time, I hoped I'd run into her, and I did. Not only did I actually stay the night, I spent the next four days with her, and since then, I've always come back to her and it's only been her. When I'm away from her working on cases, I want to be with her and I do my best to get back to her as quickly and as often as possible. I've never liked leaving her on her own, but I can't do it anymore. I've already missed three months of her pregnancy with my babies, and I can't miss anymore. I won't be a deadbeat dad. Our babies won't have the life we had. I need to be here for her, for them, and I can't be putting myself in danger anymore."

"Hermione said the babies are more than likely to be magical like her, so they'll go off to magic school when they turn eleven. And until then, it's going to be eventful around here since young children aren't able to control their magic. Hermione said when she was younger she shattered every window in the house, she set the couch on fire and when she was mad, things would levitate," he said amused.

Sam stared at him, speechless.

"I can't be a Hunter anymore, I'm needed here and I want to be here. I'm happy here."

"What're you gonna do if you're not hunting? I know you, you'll be bored, unhappy."

Dean shook his head in disagreement. "My witch girlfriend is pregnant with magical babies, somehow I don't think I'll ever be bored or unhappy. And I don't know what I'm going to do, I'll probably get a job as a mechanic or something," he shrugged. "Hermione's got money if we hit a rough patch." Sam raised an eyebrow. "She bought the house and the land it stands on when she was twenty-two. She's a successful businesswoman. If she didn't want to, she'd never have to work. I need her, and despite the fact I'm shitting myself, I'm happy she's pregnant. It gives me a new purpose in life. Rather than ending a life, I'm bringing one into the world."

~000~000~000~

"I can't believe you're getting married," Harry muttered, standing beside her and shuffling on his feet whilst waiting for the signal that it was time.

Hermione and Dean were getting married on her property, in front of two large oak trees that had grown in a way that it created an archway between them. It was a lovely spring day, the sun was shining, the temperature was warm and the breeze blew softly.

They'd spent the remainder of the previous day with Sam and Hermione getting to know each other, and by the time dinner rolled around, it seemed that Sam had warmed to her considerably and he even appeared to be happy for his brother.

"Well I am, so get over it," she grumbled.

"The others aren't going to be pleased."

"Tough luck, it's my wedding, not theirs."

"And you're pregnant, how the hell did that happen?" Hermione shot him a look and he grimaced. "I don't want the details, it was a rhetorical question."

"If you're going to be a pain in the arse, you can leave."

"Pregnancy makes you grouchy, I feel sorry for Dean having to put up with you."

"Shut it, Potter!" she snapped and he snorted at her.

"Relax, I'm just kidding. I'm happy for you, really, I am. All I wanted for you was to find someone you loved and who made you happy."

"Well, Dean does that, even if he's an annoying pain in the arse," she replied.

Harry snorted. "Charming. You ready?"

She nodded before hooking her arm through his so he could escort her down the pathway that led to the 'alter', with Demon following at her heels.

She and Dean didn't bother planning anything, they didn't bother worrying over the tiniest detail and they didn't bother with worrying that something would go wrong. They were more than happy with being married by an Angel, on the property of their home, wearing non-wedding attire.

As she approached, she caught sight of Castiel for the first time, she was surprised to see him wearing a business suit and tie with a long brown trench coat, he had dark brown hair and the brightest, bluest eyes she had ever seen. Her eyes fell to Sam, seeing him stood beside Dean, wearing jeans, trainers and a smart shirt. When she turned her eyes to Dean, he wore jeans, his boots, but she did notice he wore a nicer shirt than normal, along with his leather jacket.

His eyes lit up when he saw her. She wore white flats on her feet, a white summer dress that fell to her knees and moulded around her baby bump without it being uncomfortable, and for Dean's sake, she wore a cropped leather jacket over the top, knowing he loved seeing her wear it. Her hair hung down her back in thick curls with some pinned back from her face, and she carried a handful of daffodils that had been ripped up from her garden.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Granger," the Angel said as Harry handed Hermione over to Dean.

"And you as well, Castiel, Dean has spoken of you fondly."

He smiled at her. "I know all about you in return."

"From Dean or from watching me up in heaven?"

"Both, you are a fine warrior."

"Thanks," she muttered, her head lowering and her cheeks tainting pink.

Dean cleared his throat, and Castiel proceeded with the ceremony, she hadn't tended many weddings in her life, but she was sure Castiel had completely thrown out the traditional ways and replaced them with his own ideas, not that she minded. He didn't request for them to read out their vows, she was a little disappointed, but shed' be sure to read them to Dean later.

The ceremony was over before she knew it, their simple silver wedding bands were exchanged –and she didn't bother asking where Dean had gotten them from- and they kissed, before signing the marriage certificate Castiel produced and she'd be sure to frame it when she had the chance.

She laughed and threw her arms around Dean's neck as he swooped her up into his arms, and he headed for the house.

"Keep each other company: I've got plans for my beautiful wife!" Dean shouted over his shoulder.

~000~000~000~

"You're married!"

Chaos ensued as the voices of her family rose above each other, all trying to get their points and feelings across, whilst Hermione stood beside Dean in the living room of the Burrow on a Sunday afternoon, six weeks after their wedding.

Harry made a whistling sound and it quieted the room. Everyone was present, the Weasleys and their wives and the Potters, whilst the children were playing in the garden.

"Yes, and twenty-two weeks pregnant," she said, opening up her robes to display her growing stomach.

Chaos ensued as the yells were louder and more manic than they had been previously.

Harry whistled once more, and the room fell into silence and he rolled his eyes.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, before turning her attention to the others, her eyes narrowing. "Dean and I have been together for a year and married for six weeks. I'm twenty-two weeks pregnant with twins, we're having one of each. Dean's a Muggle Hunter, but he's giving it up so he can be a wonderful father to our babies, like I already know he's going to be. I love Dean, he's a pain in the arse, annoying and loud, but he makes me happy and he protects me. You should see the way in which he's defaced my property with demon traps and wardings, to prevent them from finding me. Dean asked me to marry him and we wed not even two days later with his Angel friend marrying us, and only us, Dean's brother, Harry and our puppy were in attendance. I didn't invite anyone because I know the fuss you'd make, and it was my wedding day, not yours. I didn't even wear a proper dress, nor did Dean wear a suit, but it was perfect for us. If you don't like the fact I'm married or pregnant, you can shove it!"

~000~000~000~

"I can't believe our babies are here," Dean said softly, holding his little girl in his arms while Hermione held their son.

They were currently at St. Mungo's. Whilst Hermione and Dean had been visiting the family, she'd gone into labour and was rushed to the hospital. Dean had called for Castiel with strict instructions to retrieve Sam, no matter what he was doing, and he'd done so without argument. The Weasleys –who'd all come around to the idea of Hermione being pregnant and married-, Potters, Sam and Castiel were currently in the family waiting room, waiting to be collected so they could visit the new additions to the family.

"I can, it bloody hurt," she grouched and he snorted at her.

"So, have we come to an agreement?"

"I believe so, our babies, Annabelle and Theo."

"Perfect," he agreed, smiling at her lovingly and leaning over to kiss her softly. "I'm so thankful that I met you," he muttered, just as the midwife arrived with the crowd arguing over who would hold the babies first, of course, Harry and Sam got the rights, followed by their favourite Angel.

~000~000~000~

"Why are you crying?"

She sniffled. "I miss my babies."

Dean chuckled at her before walking over to Hermione, climbing into bed and hugging her to him.

"They've only been gone a few hours, they probably aren't even at school yet."

"I still miss them."

"They're only an owl away and we'll see them at Christmas, they'll be back before you know it. We still have Penny to keep us busy."

"She'll be leaving in four years, too," she cried.

"Then I guess it's a good job we've got Dylan on his way," he replied, resting his hand against his wife's of eleven years, seven-month-old baby bump.

Despite Sam's worries that Dean would never be able to give up the Hunting life, he'd done so, and much to Dean's surprise, it'd been a lot easier than he thought it would've been. Dean spent his days at work and his evenings and nights with his wife and children, and occasionally, maybe twice a year, he would help Sam with a case if he needed it. Dean had thought that Sam would be the one to settle down, to have the wife, the kids, the job, the dog and white picket fence, but Sam couldn't give up the hunt. It seemed the brothers had swapped ambitions and lifestyles, though Dean would never complain, he was happier than he'd ever been. Sure, he and Hermione had their arguments, but they always made up and for the most part, they were a perfectly happy married couple raising their children together.

Dean now had his own garage, and Hermione was slowly building an empire; she was now the successful owner of eight book stores around the US, and he knew she wouldn't stop there. They had three beautiful children, and one on the way. The twins, Annabelle and Theo, both had Dean's green eyes and Hermione's wild mahogany curls, and they had turned eleven and gone off to Hogwarts. They'd had the option to attend Hogwarts or the Salem Academy and they'd chosen Hogwarts so they could attend school with their cousins. Penny was now seven-years-old and the spitting double of her mother, with both her eyes, hair and heart-shaped face. And now they were pregnant with their second son, who they had already named Dylan, and Hermione was convinced he'd be a spitting double of his father once he was born.

They'd been together for twelve years and married for eleven, and in that time they'd rescued a dog, gotten married, had three children and were pregnant with their fourth child. They'd adopted a second stray dog, a Labrador they'd name Magic, since Dean couldn't refuse his daughters anything. They also had Annabelle's familiar cat, Nina, and much to Dean's amusement, his son had named his familiar owl Hunter. And to add to the madhouse, Penny had a pet hamster named Poppet. They were raising their family, and together they'd built a life.

Dean's life was never boring. There was always laughter. There were always arguments. There was always happiness and love. And there was always magic.

Magic, now that had come as a surprise. He'd gotten used to Hermione's magic over the years, but nothing could've prepared him for his children's first magical outbursts. Annabelle had set the kitchen table on fire, Theo had exploded a tree, and Penny had somehow camouflaged Magic and Demon into their surroundings, which hadn't been fun for Hermione to try and reverse the effects of, whilst Dean had thought it hilarious, not caring for the way his wife had threatened his life, knowing that she loved him and she didn't actually mean it. Much.

The best decision he'd ever made was to return to that bar.

It brought him to Hermione.

It brought him happiness.

It brought him to life.

It brought him children, a family.

It brought him home.