Dean took a step towards her and her head whipped around finally noticing she was trapped. Hermione backed herself into the wall.

"Please..." She begged. "Don't make me hurt you."

"Woah." Dean smirked slightly, taking in her tiny frame and skinny features. "Sweetheart, you're not gonna...holy crap!"

She moved with more speed than he'd been expecting and ducked past him, hooking an arm around his knees as she went. Dean crashed to the floor and she pelted down the corridor, hair streaming behind her. Sam gave chase, Dean picking himself up and following, swearing loudly.

She was fast and she ran out of desperation, not caring when her shoulder clipped a sharp corner, or her hands smacked against the walls. But Sam and Dean chased things for a living and they had the home ground advantage.

Somehow, she made her way back through the maze of corridors to the room they'd been keeping her in. She grabbed her coat and began rifling through the pockets, desperately searching for something. Sam and Dean, weapons out, filled the doorway, blocking her in.

"You looking for this?" Dean asked, dangling the piece of wood from his fingertips. He hadn't known why he'd wanted to keep it with him, just that he did. Whatever it was, it was important as her face, already pale, drained of colour.

"Please..." she whispered.

Dean slipped it back into his pocket and she sagged.

"Now, why don't you sit down and we'll talk about this?" He suggested carefully.

She whimpered, eyes wide.

"I can't stay here." She pleaded. "They'll find me. You're in terrible danger, you've got to let me go!"

"We're always in danger." Sam shifted so his shoulders filled the doorway, allowing Dean to move a bit closer to the woman. "'Sides no one can track you here. So why don't you tell me why you saved my brother?"

She backed into the farthest corner of the room.

"I just...He was nice to me. Please, let..."

"Yeah. I got that." Dean shot a glare at his brother for being a dick. "But how did you save him? Dean said you were up against demons and you didn't even flinch."

Hermione shrugged, eyes shuttering.

"Demons?" She bluffed, evidently hoping that they'd drop the subject.

"Yeah, too late for the innocent act." Dean quipped, taking another step towards her.

Her shoulders slumped again and she pulled her coat against her, hugging it tightly.

"They're just demons." She whispered at last. "Worse things in the world."

They stared at her.

"What?" Dean managed at last. He raised his hand to tug at his hair and she flinched, ducking backwards again. He looked from his hand to her for a second, before he lowered it slowly, looking ashamed.

"How?" Sam pressed. "How did you save him from demons?"

Dean stepped closer to her, watching her carefully for any signs of movement.

"It's just, me and my brother, we ain't used to finding people who just know about the supernatural. So why don't you tell us what you are and..."

"Human." She said, very quickly. "I'm human, I promise."

"Guilty." Sam sang under his breath.

Hermione stepped closer to Dean, still clutching her coat tightly.

"Would you mind if we check?" Dean asked doubtfully. "It's just we hunt monsters and...shit!" He wheezed. Dean hadn't been expecting the kick and it clocked him right in the groin, making his eyes cross. She was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

A fast hand slipped into his pocket and relieved him of the stick as he bent double, gasping. She backed into the corner, sinking into a fighting stance, apparently unconcerned with the gun Sam held on her.

"Dean?" he yelled.

"'m okay." Dean gasped.

Hermione raised her stick.

"Stay back." She ordered, voice authoritative. "Just let me go and no one has to get hurt."

Sam snorted.

"Yeah, I don't think so."

"Levicorpus!" She shouted.

Sam's look of surprise would have been funny, if all six feet four inches of him hadn't just been flipped up in the air to hang by his ankles. She ducked under Sam's hair and vanished into the corridor.

"Oh, come on!" Dean left his brother dangling from the ceiling (It wasn't the first time it'd happened) and ran after her, back through the warren of corridors. He caught up with her as she reached the dead end behind the kitchens, keeping his knife at the ready. She slid to a halt, looking desperately for another doorway between her and the hunter.

There wasn't one.

She turned slowly to face him.

"Protago." She whispered and a shimmering blue shield spun across the width of the corridor, separating them. Dean watched her in shock. She was still in her socks, coat having been abandoned somewhere in the chase. The exertion should have tired her out at least, but the woman wasn't even breathing hard.

"What the hell are you?" He asked, testing the shield with his finger and getting a dull, electrical buzz for his efforts.

"Leaving." She murmured and spun in a graceful twirl. The surprised look she gave Dean when she opened her eyes told him that whatever she'd expected to happen, hadn't. The blue shield flickered and died.

"Oh no." She whispered, eyeing him worriedly. The was about all she got to say, because Dean took advantage of her shock and pounced, tackling her to the floor. She struggled but he had the physical advantage and he flattened himself out on top of her, smacking her wrist repeatedly off the hard floor until she released the stick.

"You gonna behave?" he barked, somewhat pissed about the abuse to his balls.

There was a resolute, and fairly rebellious, shake of her head, which prompted Dean to roll his eyes and grab the back of her shirt and start dragging. Evidently whatever mojo she'd worked on Sam had worn off at the same time as the shield did, because halfway to the cells he met his little brother who had murder in his eyes.

"Little help here?" He gasped, barely managing to hold onto the struggling woman. Hermione was kicking and clawing for all she was worth, feet scrabbling for purchase on the smooth floors.

"Dude, just knock her out!" Sam yelled, dodging a kick Hermione sent at his legs.

"She's got a head injury!" He protested as she wriggled.

"Never stopped you before." Sam muttered darkly, but he grabbed her ankles anyway. Between the two of them they carried Hermione, who was still wrestling to get free, to the cells. She did managed to slip loose at one point, but only got two feet before Dean grabbed her around the waist and hauled her over his shoulder and just sprinted the rest of the way. They slammed the cell door shut behind her and collapsed onto the floor. Dean was breathing heavily and he leaned back against the wall, Sam watching him warily.

"I swear we've tackled monsters easier than her." He moaned.

There was a loud shriek of fury from behind the iron door, followed by a wave of power so strong several light bulbs shattered.

Sam glared at him.

"You really think she's not a monster?"

Dean sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Guess we'd better hit the books then."

There was nothing in the books about abused, stick wielding women. Hell, there was nothing about sticks either. Dean knew there was something strange about the piece of wood. When he picked it up he...it sounded insane, but he could swear the stick didn't want to be touched by him. He locked it in the vault and tried not to think about it. Still, she'd been in the cells for four hours now and it was dinner time...

He carried the plate of food in one hand, the other resting on the gun tucked in his waistband. The corridor outside the cells was quiet and empty, aside from the glittering shards of glass. Slowly he unlocked the door, pushing it open.

He spotted her immediately. She was sitting in darkness, browns eyes glinting dangerously. The light reflected off her scar, casting her face in shadows.

"Let me go." She repeated darkly.

Dean pretended to think about it.

"Nah." He dropped the plate onto the floor and toed it towards her. She eyed it with confusion.

"You're feeding me?" Her eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut, as though she'd spoken without intending to.

"Well, yeah." Dean frowned at her. "What kind of an asshole do you think I am?"

He locked the door before she had a chance to respond. There were some questions you didn't want to know the answer to.

"What are we gonna do with her, Dean?"

He leant his head against the book he was supposed to be reading and sighed, trying to ignore his brother.

"Sam..." he groaned.

The taller Winchester glared at him from across the table.

"No, seriously. We can't keep her locked up forever. Someday she's either going to get out or someone's going to come looking for her."

"Sam..."

"Dean, she's a problem we don't need right now and..."

"SAM!"

Sam's mouth snapped shut as he took in the tense line to his brothers shoulders.

"Just drop it." Dean begged. "Please. I need to sleep, 'k?"

He staggered off to his rooms and resolved not to think about the woman he'd locked up. Or that she'd looked entirely too used to the treatment.

Dean took her breakfast the next morning. Nothing special, just a few slices of toast and a mug of coffee. She was already awake by the time he got there and Dean sighed when he noticed the slightly congealed plate of food still exactly where he'd left it.

"You gotta eat." He pointed out.

She glared at him resentfully over the tops of her knees and didn't answer. He swapped the breakfast plate for last nights dinner.

"I promise my cooking ain't that bad." He grimaced. "You're human, right? You do eat, like, people food?"

She just stared at him, her eyes looking slightly more dull than they did yesterday. That spark in her eyes which had glowed during her escape attempt had gone out, replaced with dark resignation. He glanced around the dark cell guiltily. The Men of Letters probably hadn't intended the cells to be used for actual humans and while there was a sink and toilet set into one wall, they were the only real features in the room. It looked cold and boring...And now he was feeling sorry for the monster. Dammit.

"Listen...I'll be back in a bit."

He relocked the door and headed to the kitchen to dump her plate in the sink, knowing that if he didn't deal with it properly before lunchtime, Sam would bitch at him. He left it there for now and wandered off to the supply closet.

The whole idea of having a supply closet was new to him. Hell, having a closet was new to him. For the first time in his life he had a room of his own, he had a kitchen he could mess around in and, bizarrely, he could afford to have more stuff than he could carry.

Still, closet...

Carefully, he piled several blankets and a pillow into his arms, before making his way back down to the cells. He'd clicked the light on for her when he brought her breakfast, but she'd broken the bulb with her fit of...whatever, last night. So he knocked on the door to give her some form of warning before he crashed inside. Hermione's breakfast hadn't been touched, but he'd only been gone for ten minutes so he didn't give up hope on that front. She hadn't shifted from her spot either, but her forehead wrinkled in confusion when she saw what he was carrying. Dean coughed in embarrassment, setting the bedding down by the door.

"I figured, it gets pretty cold down here and you don't really have a bed..." He trailed off. She, like Cas, seemed to have the ability to stare him into silence.

"Look," He tried again. "I don't suppose you can tell me what you are?"

Very slowly, she shook her head.

Dean just sighed and left.

Dean was ashamed it took him almost two days to figure it out. Two days in which, as far as he could tell, she didn't eat a thing and if anything, seemed to be wasting away quietly.

Dinner that night had been burgers, because research was taking its toll and no one could really be bothered cooking. Dean had waited until Sam wasn't looking to cook hers, knowing for certain that this was the one thing she definitely ate.

She'd made a sort of nest out of the blankets in the corner behind the door and that's where Dean would typically find her. It hadn't escaped his notice that the position put her at a tactical advantage. Sam, who had wanted nothing to do with the pair of them, told him that one day she was going to smack him over the head with a plate.

Still, she was exactly where she was supposed to be and showed no signs of moving any time soon. He sighed at the untouched sandwich on the floor and toed it out of the way with his foot.

"It's good food. Might not be as good as the one I bought you but still...edible, I guess." He tempted hopefully. He picked up a fry and munched on it. "See?" Dean took another and finally got a response. Those dark brown eyes followed his hand from the plate to his mouth, forehead crinkling once again. Dean's eyes flicked between her and the food for a full thirty seconds before the penny dropped. His eyes widened and the fry fell to the floor.

"You think I'm trying to drug you?" He demanded loudly.

She flinched and tightened her grip on her knees, hiding her head in her arms.

"Dammit." He cursed. He grabbed the plate and stormed out, slamming the cell door behind him. Sam stared at him as he stalked into the kitchen and began rifling through the cupboards.

"You okay?" He asked doubtfully.

"She thinks I'm drugging her." He spat, piling packages into his arms.

"Who?"

Dean stared at him.

"Hermione."

"Oh."

The older Winchester's eyes narrowed and he looked his brother up and down, over protectiveness boiling over once again.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" He demanded.

Sam immediately began to look guilty, which was probably because Dean had been asking the same question since he was three and he always knew when he was lying.

"Like...four hours? Maybe?"

"Do I have to take care of everyone around here?" He grabbed Sam's laptop with his spare hand, ignoring Sam's protests. "Go to bed." He ordered, stowing the computer.

"Dean, I'm fine." Sam tried to duck past him, but in his exhausted state was far too slow.

"Move it soldier."

Scowling, Sam moved, Dean following him through the bunker until he was sure he'd actually gone to his room and not just to another pile of research. Then he turned on his heel and headed back to the cells.

This time he settled himself on the floor in front of her, holding out a candy bar like it was a Holy Tablet.

"Here."

Her eyes flicked from the chocolate to him and back again.

"I swear, I'm not trying to drug you. Just trust me." He sighed when she didn't move. He didn't expect her to trust him, he had locked her up after she'd saved his life. Still, it stung a bit. "Look...I'll prove it." Heedlessly, he ripped open the wrapper and took a bite, making sure she saw him swallow. He held it out again and one pale, scarred hand tentatively reached out and snatched it away from him. She held it against her chest and watched him tensely until he settled back on his haunches.

"I'm not leaving until you eat." He groaned. "I swear you're as bad as Sam."

Slowly, ever so slowly, she lifted the bar to her lips and took a tiny bite, eyes never leaving his. His lips twitched at the small moan she gave before she took a larger bite and chewed ferociously.

"You must be starving, huh?" Was all he said, before he laid out the spoils of his quest to the kitchen, on the floor. A bag of potato chips, some more candy bars, a packet of cookies and a few snack bags of dried fruit Dean was sure Sam must have snuck out to buy. Several bottles of water, all sealed, completed the line up. Hermione reached out for the water and froze.

Dean made a point of not moving.

"Go for it." He encouraged. He waited until she was safely drinking before he spoke again. "I'm sorry about this." he said at last. "I've never..." He scratched his head, somewhat annoyed with himself. She was just another damn person he couldn't seem to take care of. "I should've realised. I mean, you've been starving yourself for two days because I was too dumb to work it out. So yeah...Sorry."

She screwed the lid back onto the empty bottle and stared at him, relaxing enough to sit cross legged on the floor. The fruit went next but not for one second did she stop staring him. It was a bit like being watched by a stray animal. One sudden movement and she'd be gone again.

He stared at her hand and then at her face, because they were the only bits of her skin he could see and they were both scarred.

"What happened?" He asked bluntly.

She froze.

"To your hand." Dean decided, guessing that a story might be easier to get out of her than a tale. "It's just...it looks nasty."

She held her hand in front of her as though she hadn't see it recently.

"Burn." She said at last and looked at him as though checking that her answer would be acceptable.

He nodded.

"How?"

Hermione drew in a deep breath.

"They thought it would make me talk." She whispered hoarsely, fire dimming in her eyes. "They were right."

Dean stared at her in shock and she went back to eating bits of dried pineapple.

"Who's after you?" He tried at last.

"People." Her eyes drooped for a moment, before they snapped open again.

She wouldn't sleep while he was in the room and judging by the state of her, she really needed to. Dean got to his feet slowly, taking the empty wrappers with him.

"I've gotta go." He smiled at her. "I'll see you in the morning. Any requests for breakfast?"

He must have used up his quota for actual conversation, because she just shook her head and curled up in her blankets again.

"Course not." He muttered and locked the door behind him.

The next morning Dean woke horribly early and took the Impala to the biggest store he could find. One of the advantages of living in America was the unbelievable variety of pre-packaged food. He picked up as much as he could afford and grabbed Sam a bunch of healthy crap while he was at it. His brother needed all the health he could managed at the moment and if Dean had to buy friggen kale to do it, then so be it.

Evidently Hermione had slept well enough, because she appeared to airing out her blankets when he arrived with breakfast. He heard hurried footsteps from the other side of the door when he knocked and he opened it slowly. All of her blankets were spread out flat on the ground and her pillow looked severely fluffed as though she'd been hitting it off the tiled wall to get the dust out. She herself was standing against the back wall, hands flat on the tiles. Dean gave her a strange look but settled himself down on the floor, making an effort to keep his boots of her blankets.

"Are you cleaning?" He asked gruffly as he set out the food. She shrugged. "Sit down, would you? Kinda weird to have you towering over me."
She took the suggestion as though it was an order and dropped to the floor immediately. She looked to Dean for permission before she reached out to grab some food. Dean nodded and the banana went first. Sam had suggested that it was pretty hard to poison fruit and that it might be worth a shot. Apparently he hadn't been wrong. Dean looked her over, frowning. Her clothes which had been grubby three days ago, were verging on filthy and although her face and hands were clean, he suspected she must desperately want a shower. He'd have to talk to Sam about that. But clothes he could fix.

"What's that?"

Her question jerked him out of his reverie and he blinked at her. She'd eaten the fruit and drunk the orange juice while he'd been staring and was now pointing at the last piece of food.

"Huh." he grinned slightly. "I guess they don't have pop tarts where you come from. It's just junk food, basically." She took it cautiously and unwrapped it, nibbling at the edges. She gave food the same sort of attention Castiel did, eating slowly and savouring every bite. It made Dean wonder how long she'd been going hungry for.

"So where is it you're from?" He asked casually. So far Sam's internet searches hadn't turned up much, but having a location would probably help.

She folded the wrapper neatly and shook her head.

Dean had half expected that response so he shrugged and carried on regardless.

"I'm going to bring my brother down here and get him to look at the back of your head. I don't think you had a concussion but still, pretty nasty cut." Her hand reached through her hair and she felt the back of her head, frowning.

"Why did you heal me?"

He frowned at the strange word choice.

"You saved my life. Kinda makes us like you." He grinned at her. "But I really don't want you to die in here and getting an infection there is dangerous. Believe me, I'd know."

"Who are you?"

"Dean." He coughed. "Dean Winchester."

She sighed, fiddling with the sleeve of her jumper.

"What do you want from me?" Hermione asked at last.

"Nothing." He blurted. He shuddered as his brain provided hundreds of horrible ideas as to what people might have wanted from her for her to be so scared of him.

"Then let me go!" She pleaded quietly. "Please, they're going to find me and they won't hesitate to kill you to get to me."

He sighed.

"Anyone who comes up against me and Sam is in a for a real surprise. Besides, I can't let you go. You might lead our enemies straight to us. Hell, you might be one of our enemies. We still have no clue what you are."

"I'm nothing." She whispered.

Silently, Dean collected up the rubbish and got to his feet.

"I'll be back with Sam at lunchtime. You want anything?"

She shook her head despondently and didn't look at him.

"Hey, Hermione?" There was the usual flurry of movement and Dean unlocked the door, Sam trailing behind him. Hermione was standing against the wall again and her bedding had been folded neatly and placed back in the corner. "I brought Sam."

"Hi." Sam waved. "Remember me?"

That didn't get a response so Dean took the lead.

"We need you to turn around so we can look at the back of your head."

She shook slightly and bit her lip.

Sam held up the red first aid kit, by way of explanation and her eyes narrowed.

"I need to make sure it's closed over properly." Sam smiled at her and she shifted slightly further away from him. She looked between them, eyes taking in Sam's giant frame before her gaze rested on Dean.

"Want me to do it?" he offered.

She nodded, still eyeing Sam cautiously. This probably would have continued for minutes if one of Sam's coughing fits hadn't caught up with him and he doubled over. Dean rushed to help and Hermione stared at the pair of them, occasionally looking towards the cell door.

"You all right, Sammy?"

Sam nodded waving his brother away.

"I'm fine." He wiped his hands on his jeans, ignoring the red smear they left behind. "Look, I'm just gonna go. You're okay?" the "with her" went unspoken but Dean picked it up anyway.

"I'll be fine. Go...breathe or something."

Sam shuffled out, still rubbing at his chest and Hermione watched him go with curious eyes, wincing when he pulled the door closed behind him.

"Is he okay?" She asked, apparently sincere.

Dean shrugged.

"Nah. He'll get through it though. You gonna turn around?"

She did so and he combed his fingers through her hair, trying to get a good look at the cut. It had healed well enough that he wasn't worried about it.

"You'll be fine. You gotta headache?"

Hermione shrugged, turning back to face him. She crossed her arms over her stomach and stepped back, away from him. Dean grabbed the first aid kit and turned to leave.

"Oh, crap. I almost forgot." He handed over the bundle of clothes he'd left at the door. "I figured you'd want something else to wear and we...uh..." He coughed, embarrassed. "We don't have any girl clothes so...uh...yeah."

She accepted the t-shirt with the same confusion that had greeted the blankets and nodded.

"Dean!" Sam's yelled echoed through the bunker. "Come here!"

Dean grimaced and left, making sure he locked the door behind him.

"What, Sammy?" He snapped when he reached his brother. Sam was sitting on the sofa, Hermione's coat resting on his lap.

"I wanted to see if she had anything her pockets." He held up the coat. "And, well..." Sam slipped his hand into the pocket and Dean's eyebrows rose as he managed to fit his entire arm into a space which shouldn't have held much more than a wallet.

"What the hell?"

"I dunno..." Sam pulled his hand out. "But, I've been thinking. She's messing with dimensions and she's got all these powers. What if she's a trickster?"

Dean frowned.

"I dunno. Maybe...She doesn't look like a trickster. Shouldn't she be able to escape anyway?"

"Maybe the Men of Letters worked out how to trap them." Sam shrugged. "There's a lot of things we don't know about this place."

Dean groaned.

"How you doing, man?" He asked instead.

"I'm fine." Sam scowled when his brother just glared at him. "I'm fine." He repeated.

"Whatever. I think we need to call in Cas." Dean sighed, reaching for his phone. "Celestial knowledge, right?"

Sam shrugged listlessly.

"Isn't he running for his life right now?"

Dean ignored that and dialled the number.

"This is important."

Castiel was running for his life, as it turned out. Flickering from Biggersons to Biggersons or so he told Dean, somewhat irritably.

"Listen man. I could really use your help." Dean rubbed a thoughtful thumb over what Sam assured him were angel wardings. Although he had no idea how the Men of Letters had even known about angels. "It's safe here."

"Dean..." The angel sighed.

Dean snarled.

"Look. They've gotta know where you are, right?"

Castiel made an irritated noise in that back of his throat, which Dean refused to interpret as a squawk.

"They're gonna find a way to make you stop. All I'm asking for is...half an hour. Tops!"

Castiel dropped into the middle of the road, with a rustle of annoyed feathers.

"They're going to catch me, Dean!" He snapped, storming past him towards the Bunker entrance.

"Hello to you too." Dean complained. He hauled open the heavy iron door and ushered the angel inside.

"I am sorry if I don't have time for human pleasantries." His vessel's blue eyes darted around, a slight frown forming into between his brows. "Although this place is heavily warded."

Dean rolled his eyes as the angel stomped down the main staircase.

"I do not understand what could be so important that..." Castiel cocked his head to the side. "Who is screaming?" he asked slowly.

Dean's eyes widened.

"Shit!" He swore and leaped the last three steps in a single jump, ignoring the protest from his knees. He pelted down the hallways, skidding past a rather surprised Sam. Castiel was keeping pace with him, sprinting towards the cell blocks with an expression which promised righteous fury on whoever was worrying Dean.

Urgh, he really needed new friends.

Dean unlocked the cell door with shaking hands, the screaming now audible to human hearing. It was gut-wrenching and painful.

Hermione was twitching in her sleep, kicking out at invisible assailants, even as her mouth continued to scream. Castiel crossed straight to her, resting his fingers on her temples. She stilled instantly, falling quiet in the Angel's arms.

Castiel sighed before lifting a murderous glare towards Dean.

"Why do you have a Sorceress in your dungeon?"

"She saved Dean's life." Sam explained, having finally caught up with them. "She tried to escape so we're keeping her in here. What are you doing?" Sam asked, catching sight of Dean.

Dean grunted, lifting Hermione into his arms easily and heading for the door.

"Look, there's no way were keeping her in here any more. She can stay in one of the bedrooms. We can lock it from the outside, I don't care, but she's not staying here." Dean left, leaving his brother and the angel to argue behind him. She was light, insanely light. Dean was pretty sure he could feel her ribs through her shirt.

"Dean!" Sam called after him, but he ignored him.

There was a spare room roughly halfway between Dean's and the kitchens which he'd been meaning to give to Castiel. That didn't matter right now. What mattered was that is was clean and he'd put sheets on the bed.

Whatever Cas had mojo'd her with, had sent her into a deep enough sleep that she just hung limply in his arms, not even stirring when Dean laid her down on the bed. She was wearing his shirt, he noticed numbly. No wonder she looked so tiny.

"Dean!" Castiel hissed from the doorway and Dean turned with a jolt.

"Yeah, Cas?"

The angel yanked him out into the corridor.

"What are you doing with a Sorceress?" He demanded.

"A what?"

Castiel paused and squinted at him, something Dean had always thought made him look like an angry cat.

"A Sorceress?" The angel offered. "You didn't know? Why are you keeping her here?"

"Course I didn't know! Why'd you think I asked you here? I wanted to know if she was dangerous."

The angel's nose twitched.

"Explain." He ground out.

After dragging Castiel through to the main area, Dean explained who the woman was and how she'd ended up in their cells.

"But the thing is, we don't know a thing about her or what she is..." Dean took a long drink out of the coffee mug someone, probably Sam, had left next to him.

Castiel sighed heavily, the one usually reserved from when Dean was doing something rebellious.

"She's a Sorceress. They...she would call herself a witch, but she's not..." He grimaced. "Her powers don't come from demons and she should have all of her soul. I imagine." He shrugged. "Do you know where she's from?"

Dean frowned, sipping his coffee.

"The UK, I guess. She's got the accent."

Castiel froze.

"What's her name?" He demanded.

"Cas...?"

Vibrant blue eyes turned on Dean.

"Her name, Dean!"

"Hermione Granger!" Dean blurted. "Jeeze!"

Castiel blinked.

"Oh." He said.

Dean waited impatiently but the angel just stood there, examining his fingernails.

ʺDammit Cas.'' Dean muttered, heading back towards Hermione's room.

The...witch woke quickly, fingers scrabbling at the bed sheets as she shoved herself backwards to huddle against the headboard defensively.

Dean stayed perfectly still as he waited for her eyes to focus. He and Cas' had been talking quietly, waiting for her to wake up. He'd wanted the angel on hand, just in case.

''Heya.'' Dean murmured.

Hermione's eyes became instantly alert and she glanced around, taking in the different location, the new people and...Yep, she just checked to see if the lamp was nailed down. Maybe Sam was right about her smashing his head in.

''Where am I?'' She demanded, voice hoarse. Her eyes turned to Castiel and a slight frown formed between her eyebrows. ''Why does he have wings?'' She added incredulously.

Dean, after gesturing to Cas' to ''Shut the hell up'', answered the first question. Mostly because he didn't know what the fuck to do with the second one.

''We figured...Cas' said you weren't dangerous, so I thought you'd be more...'' He scowled. ''Comfortable or somethin' up here.''

Hermione stared at him. It was a lot like being stared at by an angel only somehow more disturbing. Her eyes were flat and dark and looked horribly like his own.

''Dangerous?'' She spat and her lip curled. ''I'm extremely dangerous. Just not to the likes of you.'' Her gaze switched over to Castiel. ''What is he?'' Apparently Hermione had discarded the terrified act in favour of being extremely pissed off. It was an improvement, Dean decided.

This time Dean wasn't fast enough to stop Cas' straightening up in his chair and saying,

''I'm an angel of the Lord.'' He glanced down at himself and winced. ''Or what's left of one.''

Hermione gave him a long look, frowning at something just behind Cas' shoulders which Dean couldn't see.

''Rubbish.'' She said in the way Dean would say ''Bullshit''. ''What are you? A Veela?''

Castiel actually scowled.

''Why do humans lack faith?'' He demanded and Dean snickered into his hand.

''Maybe it's the fact you're wearing an accountant.''

''Ad-Salesman.'' He corrected reproachfully. Pouting, and for fucks sake who taught the angel to pout, Castiel settled back in his chair and Dean turned back to see Hermione watching them warily.

''Anyway, my buddy Cas' here says you're a sorceress. Wanna tell me what that means?''

She glowered at them and didn't say anything.

''And we're sure she's not dangerous?'' He muttered to Castiel.

The angel squinted at her.

''If she is who I believe her to be, no. Or at least,'' He glared at Dean meaningfully. ''Not unless you provoke her.'' He turned back to the witch. ''Can I check?''

Hermione set her shoulders, glaring at the pair of them.

''Check what?'' She hissed.

''Check that you truly are who you say you are.'' He held out a hand. ''Please.''

She looked from his hand to Dean and back again.

''It's safe.'' Dean lied. ''Cas' won't hurt you.'' He sighed when she didn't move. ''Look, I need to know if I can trust you. So either you let Cas look you over or...'' He set his jaw. ''Or we have to put you back in that cell.''

Hermione went green, throwing the scar on her face into sharp relief and shuddered. Dean scowled, feeling like an asshole and also...the cells weren't that bad. He'd been locked up in worse places.

She reached out with one hand, the one with the burn scar and clasped Castiel's tightly. They both stiffened and Castiel's eyes glowed blue as Hermione's hair began to crackle. They stayed like that for one long moment before each wrenched their hands away, Hermione scrabbling backwards as Cas' leaned back in his chair. He sighed heavily as Hermione curled in on herself.

''That is Hermione Granger.'' He verified sadly just as Hermione blurted,

''That's an angel.'' Sounding slightly hysterical.

''What the fuck did you do to her, Cas?'' Dean demanded, getting to his feet and stepping towards the witch. ''Hey, you okay?''

Hermione clenched her jaw.

''Angel's aren't real.'' She defended, sounding just like Dean had, years earlier. She didn't take her eyes off them though. Not for a second.

Cas' sighed heavily.

''I am very sorry.''

Dean frowned, busy shaking out a blanket.

''Dammit Cas', if you knew it was going to hurt her, why'd you do it?''

The angel grimaced.

''That's not...I'm sorry we didn't interfere.'' He seemed to be talking exclusively to Hermione who was staring at him and shaking slightly. ''It was deemed unnecessary...''

Dean didn't move fast enough and the witch launched herself at Cas', knocking his chair over and sending the angel sprawling across the floor.

''Unnecessary?'' She screamed, all of her fear forgotten in this utter fury. ''We needed help!'' She yelled down at Castiel who closed his eyes. ''You could have helped up! You could have done something! Do you know how many of my people are dead?'' Dean stepped closer to her, watching her shoulders shake. ''Hundreds of children, you monster. Children who didn't do anything other than being born! My friends, my family...They're all dead and you thought it was unnecessary...!'' Dean wrapped his arms around her waist as she lunged forward, looking ready to claw Castiel's face of.

''Cas get out of here!'' He ordered, barely holding her back. The angel got to his feet slowly, his expression that level of complete guilt that only Castiel could manage.

''I'm sorry...'' He defended backing towards the door.

''You're a monster!'' Hermione screeched, nails digging into Dean's arms as she fought to get free. ''You're as bad as they are...'' The door shut behind Cas and the overhead light shattered, showering them in broken glass and darkness. Hermione went limp, whimpering.

''Whoah.'' Dean breathed, almost staggering as he stepped backwards carefully, lifting her so she didn't get glass in her feet. It was almost completely dark now, with no windows to let in the daylight, only the very faint outline around the door frame gave them any illumination. The room was quiet too with Hermione's very faint sobs competing with the crunch of glass under Dean's boots. He found the bed easily enough and set her down on it before reaching for the the bedside lamp. It seemed to have survived...whatever the hell it was she had just done and clicked on, lighting up the room. They both took in a deep breath.

''Shit.'' Dean whispered and Hermione whimpered.

''Please...'' She begged, staring up at him. ''I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...'' Her voice wavered and she brought her knees up and hugged them. ''Please just don't...''

He rubbed at his face with both hands before turning away and leaning forwards slightly, ruffling his hair to get the stray bits of glass out of it. Once he was sure it was all gone, he turned back towards her, eyeing her suspiciously.

''You gonna flip out again or are we okay?''

Hermione swallowed and shook her head, staring at him over the tops of her knees.

''Good.'' He sighed. ''Look, I'm gonna go get a brush or somethin'...gotta clean this up. Stay here, okay?''

He was almost at the door when he heard her whisper,

''I'm sorry.''

He paused, one hand on the door handle.

''Ain't your fault.''

Which was true. It was his.

Castiel was slouched in one of the armchairs in the library. He was staring at nothing in particular and startled when Dean dropped into the other chair.

''What the fuck?'' Dean asked tiredly.

''Dean...'' Cas' started but Dean cut across him.

''No, seriously...what the hell happened in there? How do you know who she is?''

Casitel sighed heavily.

''We...The host was always aware of the magical community. They weren't actually evil, just a by-product of some minor pagan deity. We were ordered not to interfere in there world, just as were were ordered not to interfere in yours. Hermione Granger is...or was, one of the greatest warriors her world has ever seen. Even the angels knew who she was, although...'' He grimaced. ''Something went wrong...Someone who wasn't supposed to die did, I wasn't really paying attention. There was a war and she is one of the last people left on a losing side. She's right,'' He added, meeting Dean's eyes. ''A lot of innocent people have died.''

''Why didn't you help them?''

Castiel gave him a look which meant Dean was being particularly human.

''Innocent people die everyday, we don't help them. I'm just an angel, Dean. I don't know if you remember but my stint as a god didn't work out so well.''

Dean laughed bitterly.

''Yeah, I guess. What do I do with her?''

Cas' shrugged and Dean rolled his eyes.

''Gee, thanks Cas'...''

''Why...oh. Sarcasm.''

Dean got to his feet.

''You stay for a bit okay? I gotta get a new light from somewhere.''

Hermione was exactly where he left her, but the bits of glass that had been caught in her hair were missing now and the room looked suspiciously as though she'd gone over it with a fine toothed comb.

''You okay?'' He asked, not really expecting an answered. He didn't get one. He shut the door behind him and kicked one of the chairs into the middle of the room so he could reach the light fitting. She watched him work quietly and when the light flickered on Dean watched the tension drain away from her shoulders as the shadows faded.

''Thank you.'' She whispered.

Dean almost fell off his chair. He blinked at her, mouth gaping open.

''You're...uh...welcome.'' He stepped off the chair, towards her. ''Listen, you sure you're okay?''

She shrugged.

''Cas' said you were a warrior...like a fighter or something?''

Something happened to her face, something that was almost but not entirely a smile.

''I warned you.'' She whispered.

Dean snorted.

''Whatever sweetheart.'' He set the chair back in the corner. ''I'm gonna go fix lunch. Any requests?''

She met his eyes and raised one hand, snapping her fingers.

''Fuck.'' Dean hissed, leaping backwards.

Just above her fingers a tiny, flickering blue flame hovered, reflected in Hermione's brown eyes.

''Put that out!'' Dean ordered and the flame vanished. ''Don't ever do that again!''

She flinched and Dean stormed out, slamming the door behind him and leaning against it. He couldn't...just could not have fire here. He wasn't losing this home too.

He locked the door and walked away.

Two days later and Cas' was gone, Sam was asleep and Dean felt like a dick. Hermione hadn't spoken to him since he'd yelled at her, but she was still eating which was something. Cas' had left not long afterwards and Dean hadn't heard from his since. Sam was still sick and Dean had managed to bully him into bed early so the Bunker was virtually empty.

And Dean was hovering outside Hermione's door trying to work up the courage to go in. Not that he was scared of her. No. She just made him...nervous.

''Hermione?'' Dean knocked quietly, mostly hoping she was asleep. ''Can I come in?'' There was no response, but that wasn't unusual, so he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

She'd apparently decided that Dean really wasn't trying to drug her and had started eating proper food. By the look of her plate she'd nearly managed to finish dinner. Sam reckoned she wasn't used to food in large quantities and it would take her a while to get used to more.

Hermione looked up from her bed, where she was curled under the covers, and waited for him to do something. He held out the bundle of clothes he had in his hand.

''Shower's free,'' He offered hopefully. ''If you want.''

She was in there for almost half an hour, which Dean couldn't actually blame her for. They'd been letting her use the bathrooms and sinks and stuff, but this was the first time she'd had a shower in...a week? Felt longer than that.

He'd almost fallen asleep when she finally stepped out, towelling her hair dry. Dean's clothes were huge on her and she'd had to roll up his sweatpants several times so her feet could stick out the bottom. Her hair, although wet, still managed to frizz into curls but most of her tan had apparently been ingrained dirt as her skin was now a flushed with a faint tinge to it which made her look...European? He had no idea. His shirt revealed the scars on both arms and she held one forearm close against her chest, hiding something from view.

He realised his mouth was open so he closed it with a snap as he pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning against.

''Listen...''

She arched one eyebrow and folded the towel neatly.

''I'm not gonna lock your door tonight.'' Dean blurted.

She dropped the towel.

''Beg pardon?'' Hermione said, apparently startled out of her silence.

Dean ruffled his hair.

''It's not fair to keep you locked up in there.'' Especially when she technically hadn't done anything wrong. ''I'm still keeping the Bunker locked down, so you can't actually get out, but,'' She blinked. ''Cas' says you're not dangerous and...'' He sighed. ''I'm sick of being the bad guy.''

She kept staring at him, so Dean turned away, heading back down the hallway.

''Have you developed Stockholm Syndrome?''

Dean almost tripped over his feet. He looked back over his shoulder and saw she was frowning at him, biting her lip as though she wished she hadn't spoken.

He grinned at her.

''Ain't you supposed to be the one who gets that?'' He asked.

She gave him a bleak look before relenting and giving him an incredibly small smile.

Which was awesome.

A/N

So this is the sequel to No Good Dead. It's probably going to be about four chapters long.

Please let me know what you think of this series, I'm a bit nervous about it.

Hood