The rain outside tapped a persistent pitter patter against the dirty, old glass window. A biting cold wind danced with the rain and blew in through the gaps and cracks in this old house. In the shadows of a dying fireplace fire, a tall man sat slouched in a broken down old recliner, dozing with a half empty bottle in his hand. There was another man with smooth brown locks asleep on the moth eaten bed the next room over. A crack of lightning lit up the sky and was followed a few seconds later by an almighty smack of thunder.

Shattering glass and warm beer covered the floor next to the dozing mans feet as he shot bolt upright, pistol appearing in his hand before the bottle had hit the ground. The haze of sleep was fading from his emerald green eyes but the film of exhaustion never entirely went away.

After several sweeps of the room his body slumped back into the chair, realizing that had just been thunder. He passed a rough and calloused hand through his short hair and grimaced when he saw his shattered beverage. Deciding sleep was a lost cause, he hoisted himself to his feet and paced to the window to peer out into the night and the rain.

As he stood there the hair on the back of his neck rose. There was...something moving between the trees, and fast. It wasn't trying to hide and it was heading straight for that broken down old farm house that the two men were camping in while in town.

"Sammy!" he growled as loud as he dared but it was enough because the man in bed groggily sat up.

"Dean?" he mumbled sleeply. Catching sight of him alert by the window, gun drawn, he stood up quickly, moved near the door jam and cocked his own pearl handled pistol. Dean jerked his head toward the window, beckoning the other toward it. The figures were less than 30 yards from the house.

There were at least 3 of them, hunched up against the rain. The dark and the rain prevented any other discernible features from being noticed. Both men stared out the window and backed themselves against the wall to ensure that they were out of the line of sight. Moving near the door they stood on either side, listening intently for any sound.

Less than a minute later the sound of heavy footsteps hit the soaked wooden porch.

"Well, we picked a fine landing point," a surly voice with a British accent poured through the cracks in the door.

"I'm sorry but at least we are on land," a snappy female voice responded to the first.

"Always with that - it was one time!" a familiarity between the two voices was obvious from the banter.

"How about we nip in out of this wind then? " and a third voice was added to the mix.

"Hang on," the woman interjected. "Homonim Revelio… There's someone here!" the last bit was said in a hoarse whisper. Locking eyes the two men decided that was their cue. Swinging wide Sam kicked the rickety old door practically off its hinges.

Standing just beyond the touch of the rain were three bedraggled robed figures, shoulder to shoulder with their arms extended and a thin slip of wood in each of their hands. From the tip of the center stick, a light glowed illuminating the faces of the two men. Their guns were leveled at the faces of the newcomers, eyes squinted against the glare.

"Who are you?" the man called Sammy growled.

Sticking his chin out, the center boy, for he could be no more than 17 or 18, responded. His black hair was plastered to his pale face and his thin, black rimmed glasses were covered with droplets.

"Nobody. You?" his voice was even but strained.

"Same. What are you doing here?" Dean growled from under his brows as he glared at the three.

"Running," the girl said boldly, causing the other two robed figures to cast alarmed eyes her way. She slowly but resolutely lowered her arm to her side, keeping her chin high and eyes on the black holes of the guns staring at her.

"Running? Running from what?" he snapped, his eyes flicking behind the kids, straining to see anything in the darkness.

"Monsters," she replied, the slightest quaver in her voice. Sammy smirked.

"That's a nice story. But how about something true?" his arm never moving.

"Well, not monsters but like monsters. Very bad people. We just needed somewhere to stay for the night but we can move on... " she made to back up and the two men flicked the tips of their guns up slightly.

"Not so fast little lady. We are about 15 miles outside of the nearest town. I didn't hear any wheels and there ain't no way you three made it all that way in this rain," Dean said with a firm tone. Casting nervous glances back and forth between them the three teens swallowed hard. Without warning, the girl flung her arm back up and, with a complicated flick of her wrist, a shot of white blue light erupted out of the tip of that delicate twig in her hands.

Years of hunting and fighting gave the boys the reflexes they needed to dodge the attack. Leaping forward they tackled two of the newcomers, taking them to the ground and twisting to hold them against their chest, guns rested against the side of their temple. The girl had stepped to the side and the black haired boy along with his red-haired freckled companion were strong-armed against the two stood stock still while the taller red-haired boy spouted.

"What in the name of…"

"Ron, shut up!" the girl stammered, fear dripping from her voice

"Yeah, Ron, listen to the lady," Sam snapped, pulling tighter against the boy he was restraining,

"Okay, okay listen. I'm Hermione and.. and this is obviously Ron and that there, that is Harry and we are just trying to stay out of the way of some really bad people. We are sorry to bother you and if you.. if you just," she spouted off in a slow panic.

"Ahh!" the black haired boy called Harry gasped sharply as a thin silver blade sliced the exposed side of his hand. Taken back by the attack, the redhead called Ron gasped anew when the man holding him poured cold water from a flask over his already soaked head. The two men locked eyes.

"Not demon."

"Or shifter."

Herimone's eyes widen in panic.

"No, no we are just people please please listen I… I…."

Giving a quick jerk with their legs, the men pulled the arms of the two boys, causing their hands to spasm and the little powerful sticks to roll comically onto the porch.

"Alright missy, now you." Hands out like a hostage she carefully squatted down and set hers on the porch. The two boys were then roughly pushed to their feet and herded over toward the girl, guns trained on their faces.

"Alright, Ron, Harry, Hermione. What the heck did you shoot at us and what the heck could three kids be running from?"

"We're just… just on the run and we didn't mean anything and if you could just give us our wands back we could…" Harry stammered, trying to sound brave.

"Wands? What, these?" Sam said eyeing the three slips of wood on the porch. The three kids didn't speak.

"Wands like wizards and magic and dragons?" Dean asked, doubt written all over his face.

"Well, yeah, what do you think? Just nutters with twigs?" Ron snapped waspishly.

"Listen, we really aren't here to cause any trouble. Our mistake and if we could just get them we will be out of your way." The three kids seemed completely out of their element without their wands and they stood staring nervously at the pistols still leveled at them.

"Dean… they're just kids…" Sam said slowly, not moving his eyes. After a long moment, Dean lowered his gun and squatted quickly to scoop the sticks up, never taking his eyes off the group huddled on the other side of the porch. Sam lowered his gun once Dean had the wands.

"I'm Dean and this here is my brother Sammy," Dean said, gesturing at his brother with the ends of the wands. "Sorry about all the third degree but you can never be sure, ya know?" The visitors didn't move.

"Listen, why don't you come inside out of the rain so we can help," Sam started slowly. The two men turned toward what was left of the doors to usher the kids in.

With the reflexes of a trained athlete, Harry leapt toward the cluster of wands held loosely in Dean's hand. He managed to close his fist around the three handles. Hermione and Ron were clutching the hem of his robe and he gave a violent twist. The three soaked kids disappeared from the porch, right into thin air. Dean had stumbled into the door, surprised by the sudden attack. The two men just sat there, staring at the spot where moments before there had been three bodies. Dean experimentally swiped his hand through the air that was cool and empty.

"What in the…" Sam started as he walked toward the spot, staring around awestruck.

"Well, I guess there must be some things we still don't know, huh, Sammy?" Dean said looking up sideways at his brother, an amused smile playing across his lips.