The Pineview hotel was filled with people dressed in flannel and leather jackets. Many others were dressed up as monsters like a scarecrow and clown. You could feel the excitement in the air. Carver Edlund, also known as Chuck Shirley, the anxious author these people came to see had just run out of the hotel as a young man in his early twenties came through the door, emerald eyes gleaming in amusement.

His hair was inky black, wild and seemed to be tangled in shadows. He wore black slacks, a green shirt that matched his eerily glowing eyes, and a long black coat. Many would compare it to a cloak. Sometimes if one looked at him peripherally, he'd disappear for a moment and then pop up again. On his right hand was a gold band with a deep black gem inside. Anyone who looked at it directly would feel a sliver of ice run down their spines, making them turn away quickly.

If one paid attention, they would probably see a piece of wood under the young man's right sleeve. Nobody did, of course, as they were focused on the convention tables and reenacting book scenes with their friends. The young man glanced around and smiled, moving off towards the bar as a young girl ran out of the building. He took a seat and ordered a shot, glancing around the room in interest.

"Fandoms are so odd," he muttered to himself, downing his drink.

"Yeah, this place has really become desperate if they're allowing these kinds of weirdos in now," the bartender said looking over at the young man, "you'd think these people would have more to do with their lives."

The young man glanced back at the door as two men came in with the author and girl who he was sure had no clue what was happening. He smirked as they took everything in and turned back to the bartender.

"Some of them are probably hoping the fantasies become a reality," he commented, taking a second shot, "too bad for them, that's probably true," he pulled out a fifty-dollar bill and slid it over to the bartender whose eyebrows shot up.

"Well then. Who should I thank for such a nice tip?" The young man smiled, standing up and walking towards the conference hall where all the fans were gathering.

"Harry, Harry Potter."

…

Harry made his way into the conference room and sat in a corner in the back. He glanced back to where the two hunters were staring intently at Chuck Shirley. Of course, Harry knew all about Sam and Dean.

Their story sucked worse than his own. At least he was only destined to die once. That one time was pretty boring, too. Harry doubted his universe really had any kind of physical hell, considering what he saw of Voldemort's soul. Sometimes he wished he had taken the train when given the option.

If he had, he wouldn't be stuck in the living universes, forever wandering. It wasn't all bad of course. He could still visit them or summon his friends when he wanted. They didn't really have much to do in the afterlife, the lucky bastards. Harry was just glad they could come in their younger ages as well. It was really awkward those last eighty, ninety years where they all grew old and he was stuck at how he looked once he turned twenty-five.

Of course, that opened up a whole bunch of questions that were answered after a dark side supporter decided to avenge their losing side. That was when Death himself had welcomed Harry at King's Cross. After explaining that Harry had impressed Death by collecting the Hallows and accepting his own demise, Harry had turned into what some in his realm called the Master of Death.

He didn't really order Death himself around, but he could tell reapers what to do and had many powers that he had yet to fully utilize. He was more of a friend to Death who was amused by him. Harry could probably stop people from dying if he truly wished, but he could not do it infinitely. Besides, his friends had lives to live and he really wasn't interested in Ginny after the war. Once he woke up, with the Hallows right next to him, he decided to not say anything.

It was better to just keep it a secret and move on once the time was right. It had helped that because of his new title, he could call upon his family and friends if he was ever lonely. They couldn't stay long, but he enjoyed seeing them nonetheless.

He did finally meet his parents and got to see the three Marauders brought together again. It was nice and also a bit depressing for many years as he felt very much alone. They were all content with their lives and afterlives. He was just trying to keep himself entertained.

He spent a long time travelling his world, even after his friends passed away. Once he became bored of that, Death told him of other universes, and he was intrigued. There were just so many. Some had magic like his while others has entities that were considered Gods, actual Gods.

Harry spent thousands of years traveling through universes and seeing the differences. He was intrigued that so many worlds seemed to hold a similar timeline and some even showed up in other universes as fictional stories. Death mused that they were probably written by people who had specific Seer powers. It would certainly make sense. It was interesting to see his own story popping up in some universes, even ones where there was no such thing as magic.

This universe, though, was a riot. There were angels and demons, a bunch of monsters, and even evil witches that made deals for their power. Harry thought it was cute. They were apparently going through an apocalypse and the two brothers, who were beginning to glare dagger at Chuck, were at the center of it all.

Learning that Death himself was physically locked away from the world was hilarious. Harry could barely stop laughing long enough to hear the story about the God that created the world and everything in it.

Death had told him that recently the angel known as Lucifer had been freed and had let out Death's "siblings" in that world. War, Famine and Pestilence. Harry was quite relieved he had never met them, especially the last one. Death didn't seem to care so much about them, more annoyed by their antics than anything.

As Harry had jumped into the universe, he was instantly surrounded by the souls that were passing through the veil or near the edge. It was something he had taken a long time to get used to. He could feel all the souls traveling through Death. They were all so different from each other; he was fascinated once he could understand what he saw and felt.

Souls came in so many different sizes and brightness. Some were warm, some cold. While there wasn't always a Heaven and Hell in each universe, you could tell how good a person was by how warm their soul was.

Harry was brought out of his thoughts as the first panel ended and the brothers walked out of the room, obviously annoyed. Harry smirked and walked out of the room, looking around the place. He could feel multiple spirits in the building, three of which were incredibly cold.

He glanced up at the eldest spirit who was standing at the top if the stairs. Her soul wasn't very cold or very warm. She was holding on tightly to a young boy were soul was bright and warm with innocence. She stared around the lobby, glaring in all the corners.

Harry wondered if she was looking out for the cold souls. He certainly would be. Harry watched as everyone reacted to a deafening scream, running up the stairs, the two hunters being the fastest. He snorted as the actress started talking, sighing and going over to the bar.

It didn't take long before the brothers ended up the bar, Sam taking a seat next to him. He ordered a beer as Dean ordered a shot and Harry smiled at the bartender, handing over some cash.

"Their drinks are on me," he said. Dean glanced over suspiciously before turning back to the ghost actress to flirt. Sam picked up his beer taking a gulp.

"Thanks," he said.

"No problem, seems like you could use it," Harry commented.

"You have no idea," Sam drawled.

"Not enjoying the convention?" Harry asked, smiling at Sam who had pulled out his phone.

"Not a fan," he said before looking over hesitantly, "are you?" Harry shook his head.

"Never read these before," he stated, making Sam sigh in relief.

"Great, don't ever do it," he said derisively. Harry shrugged, ordering himself a beer as the brothers noticed a scared fan running out. He smirked, taking a sip from his glass.

Harry glanced around, stretching his back, figuring out what to do to pass the time. He supposed he could go do a little ghost hunting. He could see what the creepy little kids were up to. Nodding to himself, he headed back upstairs, content to pass the time.

…

While the Winchesters were coming back from burning bones, Harry had made his way lazily back downstairs. He had felt only one soul pass through to the other side. As he hit the last step, the mother appeared in front of him, distressed.

"Those naughty children!" she screamed. Harry looked at her curiously.

"Huh, guess they burned the wrong bones, then," he commented, smiling over at the woman who was beginning to call for her son.

"He won't hear you," he said, making her turn back towards him, "he's on a different plane. Those other children have locked him there," her anger gave way to despair and she began crying.

Harry pat her back gently as Sam and Dean ran upstairs after the screaming actress. He figured he'd let them work it out and see what happened. The ghost clung to his jacket, not really thinking about how she was touching him. Her poor child was stuck in this wretched place with those evil children.

Harry held her hand and led her away from the lobby. He wasn't concerned about people noticing him, especially since the hunters were about to corral everyone into the conference room. Harry felt a soul very close by pass through and sighed. So, the ghosts managed to catch someone.

He paid no mind to the people being herded, not even when Dean and the girl went back into the study to confront the children. He spent that time comforting the distraught mother, watching the fanboys and Sam try to get through the door.

It only took a little while longer before he felt the children's souls pass over. He smiled as the little boy popped up in front of them. He was no longer missing half his scalp and grinned as he saw who was in front of him.

"Mommy!" he yelled, hugging her happily.

She excitedly hugged him back as a brown haired, brown eyed woman in a suit emerged into existence. Harry smiled over at her.

"Tessa, I believe these two are ready to go," he said happily.

She smiled and nodded holding her hand out, which the mom took, holding her son close. All three faded out and Harry walked away, moving into the crowd of people that had just left the conference hall.

He continued to watch the Winchesters and friends as they made their way out of the hotel. He listened in on their conversation about the colt and some demon, intrigued about their plan.

Maybe he could keep tabs on them for now. See what they planned to do. It sounds like it'd at least be entertaining.