Obligatory Disclaimer

I would like it to be duly noted that my name is Jerri Zanchev, and as such, I have no claim to the names Rowling, Kripke, or Singer. Any books, movies, television shows, franchises, or intellectual property belonging to said names - especially the Harry Potter franchise and the Supernatural franchise - do not belong to me in any way, shape, or form, and any recognisable material from these and any other published works is the sole property of the aforementioned people, and has been used for entertainment purposes only with no personal and/or monetary gain whatsoever.

Warning/Background Wossnames

- This is a Harry Potter - Supernatural Crossover. Both timelines are as in canon at this point, being post Hogwarts Battle (ignoring the Epilogue), but before the start of season one of SPN. SPN is entirely canon up until the beginning of this story, whilst Harry Potter begins to drift from canon at about the fifth/sixth year mark.

- This will be a Dean Winchester/Harry Potter slash fiction. Other pairings (if any) are undecided at this point, but I may include a poll where y'all can vote for what you want.

- This will be a Ron Weasley/Molly Weasley/Albus Dumbledore/Ministry of Magic bashing fic. There will also be strained relations with John Winchester, but no outright hatred.

-There will be sex scenes, violence, bad language, and awful jokes in this work of fiction. Be warned.

-This fic will include a cross-dressing Harry. This does not mean that he is a girl, nor genderfluid, nor transgender, nor a drag queen. His cross-dressing is purely for protection purposes. I am making this known now to avoid any hate and/or awkward requests later on. :)

- This will include bisexual! Harry and Pansexual! Dean. By which I mean that Harry is attracted to both men and women, and Dean is attracted to people regardless of what happens to be in their pants.

- This is an unbeta'd fic at this point. This status may change at a later date.

Blurb Thing

A one night stand when Dean's twenty-five leads to a solid friendship based on lewd jokes, good scotch, and refreshing honesty. A year or so later, things keep building and building and Dean's finding it hard to cope, so he turns to his lover-turned-best-friend, Harry, begging for guidance. Will Harry be able to help the Winchesters avenge their mom? and how is Harry connected to the vicious Hunter veteran, Miss P?

*xXx*

Chapter One - Prettiest Person in the Room

Dean groaned under his breath as he fell into the stool at the local bar. He winced as the movement pulled at the gash on his side, tugging the bloodstained shirt away from the clot and ripping at the shallow cut even further. He was looking forward to downing a few fingers of whiskey and hitting the sack.

Who knew ghosts of children could be so damn vicious?

Dean threw the bartender a winning smile and ordered a double. As the guy rolled his eyes and turned to serve the next bastard at the bar, Dean pulled out his phone and groaned. His dad had left four fuckin' messages and half a dozen texts since he'd last checked, only a few hours ago. Why couldn't he just leave it alone? Dean wasn't a kid anymore, he was twenty-five for Christ's sake! He could handle a goddamn salt-n-burn just fine.

Shooting his father a quick "I'm fine, stop callin'" text, Dean turned to his whiskey with a grin. Elixir of life, is what it was, and Dean didn't hesitate to down the whole thing in one go. The warm, pleasant burn tingled his throat and sent a nice shiver down his spine, and Dean was quick to get another.

Sipping at his new drink, Dean cast his eyes over the rest of the club he'd found himself in. The place was pretty full, for a Thursday night, with dance music playing and a small dance floor with pulsing red and blue lights. Little tables were scattered around the edge of the room, with groups of young people drinking and chatting and enjoying a normal night out. Dean grinned, feeling a familiar sense of pride and satisfaction that all these kids were safe and didn't even have to know about the monsters he'd ganked that same night.

"Um, excuse me...?"

Dean, paused, glancing over to see a young woman shifting nervously next to him. He was quick to take in the slim build, the twisting fingers and the absolute mess of curled black hair that seemed to add about an inch to her height and completely cover her shoulders and back. A slow smile spread across Dean's face - this chick was hot! Dean leaned back against the bar slightly and offered her a confident smirk.

"Well, hello there, what can I do for you?" Dean drawled. The girl seemed to sigh slightly, before she looked him in the eye and offered him a quick, self-conscious smile. Dean barely saw the dimples, all attention locked on her out-of-this-fucking-world green eyes. Dean noticed he was staring, and shook his head slightly to get himself to pay attention to the girl again.

"I, uh, well... I don't want to sound really weird or anything, but I just wanted to tell you that you're really attractive. Like, fucking gorgeous. So yeah. Congrats on your face, I guess."

Dean couldn't help the wide smile that sprang to his face at the girl's bizarre compliment. Her voice was smooth and soft with an English lilt, almost kinda husky, and oh-so-fucking sexy. Dean offered her a hand, which she took a bit shyly, but her grip was firm. Hell yeah.

"Name's Dean, my face thanks you."

"Harry," the girl smiled back at him. Dean ran the name over in his mind. Harry - it was quirky, probably short for Harriet or something. It suited the wild looking girl perfectly.

"Harry? Cool name," Dean got his hand back and gestured to the bar with his glass. "So, Harry, can I buy you a drink?"

"Are you the type of guy who's gonna drug me while my back is turned and have your wicked way?" Harry asked, fists propped on hips and eyebrow raised in a teasing challenge. Dean laughed and shook his head.

"Never."

"In that case," Harry's smirk sent a pleasant whiskey-shiver down Dean's spine. "You can buy me two."

Dean was quick to call the snarky bartender over, before giving Harry a calculating once-over.

"What would you like, Bright-eyes?" he grinned, ignoring the vomiting motions the bar dude was making in his direction. Harry snorted at the endearment, but looked over the liquor selection critically.

"Scotch. Neat, if you please."

Dean grinned. Girl liked the good stuff. He ordered a round of doubles for them both and toasted Harry with a slight leer. Harry rolled her eyes, but good-naturedly tapped her glass to his before downing the liquor like it was water. She gently placed the glass back down and grinned at Dean's gape. He couldn't help but stare, a warmth not entirely unlike the whiskey burn pooling in his stomach at Harry's too-green eyes and her sexy as all hell smirk.

Oh yeah, he was so gettin' some of that.

Dean quickly finished his own glass and shot Harry a wink. Harry's whole body seemed to light up with mischievous glee at Dean's flirting, and Dean had to shift around on his seat a bit before he could properly talk to the girl again. The twinkle in her eye told him that she knew exactly what he was doing, and Dean offered a shameless grin.

"So, Harry, what say I get you that second drink and then we go someplace more interesting?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Harry fuckin' purred, not sounding sorry at all. "I'm actually here with some friends, but you're welcome to join us at our table."

Dean glanced at the table Harry was pointing at, spotting two blondes and a brunette, and smiled wider than before. He nodded his hearty agreement to Harry, who laughed. Dean paused, soaking up the musical sound. It was innocent and bright, but also held a hint of that same adrenalin rush that Dean always associated with the Hunt. The whiskey-shiver was back.

"Well in that case, Dean," Harry shifted closer and God if the sound of his name on her lips wasn't hot. "I believe you owe me a second drink."

"Same again?" Dean asked, receiving an amused nod in reply. A scotch and a beer later, Dean found himself following slightly swaying, jean-clad hips through the pulsing lights towards Harry's friends. He couldn't help but ignore the writhing dancers around him in favour of staring at Harry's hand in his, marveling at how small it was, belying the incredibly sexy strength with which Harry was dragging him through the club.

"Harry! There you are!"

Dean looked up to find that they were already at the table, and he got his first decent look at Harry's friends. They were all ridiculously attractive, with the brunette's slim build and bushy hair perfectly setting off her bright smile. The two blondes were exactly alike, all blond and slim and pale, yet totally opposite. The girl was like a pixie, with wispy hair and a knowing smile and petite everything, while the man was all angles and aristocratic arrogance. The group was mismatched to all hell, and yet they all looked totally calm, like they belonged.

As Dean watched Harry flounced over to press a kiss to the brunette's hair, before glancing around with a theatrical pout.

"Oh poo, there's only one spare seat. I'll have to find another from someplace."

Dean rolled his eyes and gently tugged Harry back to his side. He sat in the spare chair and pulled the wild girl into his lap with a cocky grin. Problem solved.

"Who's your new friend, Harry?" Male blond asked, his voice just as arrogantly rich as his tailored suit. Harry let out a giggle, as if she could hear what he was thinking, and leaned back into Dean's chest.

"This is Dean," Harry announced with a smile. "Dean, these are my friends; Hermione, Luna, and Draco."

Huh. Must be the Quirky Names Club or something, Dean mused as each friend waved at their name. Hermione - the brunette - offered a wide smile, while Male Blond - Draco? Weird - just smirked.

"So whose turn is it now?" Pixie blonde, the one called Luna, asked. Dean glanced around the group in confusion. Turn for what?

"We're playing truth or dare," Harry murmured to him as the others began debating rules and who was supposedly next in this game. Dean raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl in his lap, who flushed prettily.

"My turn's just been, I was dared to go get a drink from who I though was the prettiest person in the room."

"Prettiest Person?" Dean couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as Harry blushed and hid behind her scotch. Dean felt oddly flattered, that of all the people Harry could've chosen in the place, she'd picked him - the loner at the bar in dirty jeans nursing a whiskey. Harry mumbled a series of curses at him, and he laughed.

"It's decided, then."

Dean turned back to the argument between the others, just in time to see them all turn to him expectantly. He blinked, not entirely sure what they wanted from him.

"Well, come on then Mister Prettiest-Person-In-The-Room," Draco drawled, leaning back in his chair. "Truth or dare?"

AN -

Holy crap, it's been so long since I published anything on this site!

I feel really bad now :S

Anyway, this is the first installment of one of the many fics that's been bouncing around in my head recently. I've decided to just throw this first chapter up here and see what the response is like. If people like it and let me know that they like it (reviews and stuff hint hint) then I'll continue to write what I feel will be a pretty fun and quirky story.

So yeah, I'm not dead, I'm still writing, and I hope y'all like it!

Laters

Zanchev.