Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Supernatural.

IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Now, before anyone accuses me of plagiarizing, this story was adopted from Branwen777 with permission from ConstantSnow, who had originally been going to pick up the story. Branwen herself adopted the story from adorable baby dinosaur, so as you can see now, this story has changed hands MANY times.

Warnings: Slash, Angst, Violence, you know... the usual of a typical Supernatural episode. Minus the slash of course, but even that's subjective. If any of this offends you, now is your chance to leave!

This story is beta'd by: StarAngel Caelum SunSoar

A/N: Now that that's out of the way, let me begin by saying: Yay! No, seriously, it brings me great joy to have adopted this story and I hope I'm able to live up to everyone's expectations! Anyone who has read Branwen's "A Different Kind of Hero" has a general idea of what to expect, but I've thrown my own twists into the mix as well! Instead of just telling you, however, I'll let the story speak for itself.

Pilot - Part One

Lawrence, Kansas

Twenty-two years ago

"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother," Mary Winchester said as she carried her four year old son, Dean, into the nursery and sat him down next to the crib to say goodnight to his six month old brother, Sam.

"Night, Sam," Dean said, leaning over the crib to kiss his little brother's head.

Mary leaned over as well and pressed her lips to her youngest son's forehead. "Goodnight, love," she whispered, smiling down at him. Little Sam shifted, blinking adorable muddy-green eyes up at his mother.

"Hey, Dean," John Winchester's voice rang from the doorway of the nursery. He'd been working a late shift at his garage that night and they hadn't heard him come home so it was a pleasant surprise for both mother and son.

"Daddy!" Dean shouted in excitement as he spun around and ran to his father. The man caught him and lifted him into a big bear hug, laughing as he balanced Dean on his waist.

"Hey, buddy," John began with a light smile on his face. "So what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?"

Dean's face scrunched up in consideration as he thought long and hard on the question. Sammy shifted in his crib, clenching a tiny fist. "No, Daddy," Dean answered with a laugh as John smiled at him, his love for his children glowing on his face.

Dean had been so excited about having a little brother to play with, that when Sam was born he had been aghast, wondering how they could possibly do all of the fun things he wanted to do. Sam was tiny, no bigger than the pigskin Dean wanted to toss around. Now that little Sammy was out of her and in the world, Mary was in no hurry for him to grow up—during the pregnancy however, she had been begging for time to speed up. She loved both her sons to death, and would probably have more children in the future, but she hated the part where she had to carry them in her belly.

"You got him?" Mary asked as she walked past them while running her fingers over Dean's back as he rested his head against his father's shoulder. John could feel Dean's small yawn against his shoulder and knew that any moment now Dean would be out like a light.

"I got him," John answered, holding Dean tighter as he began to feel his son's small body relaxing more and more against him as sleep threatened to take him. "Sweet dreams, Sammy," he whispered to his youngest son as he closed the nursery door behind him.

John carried Dean to his bedroom where Mary was already waiting for them with the blankets turned back and the pillows sorted how Dean liked them. Even though Dean was pretty much out they took a moment to tuck him in and kiss him goodnight anyway, as they had done every night since he was born. Looking down at Dean now, so peaceful and vulnerable, John didn't think it was possible to love something as much as he loved his sons.

o0o

Mary jolted awake as the baby monitor beside her bed began making noises. She turned the lamp atop her nightstand on and rolled over to see that John was already up. For all she knew John could have been in the kitchen making a late night snack, so getting up, Mary decided to go check on Sam herself. She walked into the nursery only to see John's silhouette looming above the crib.

"John?" she asked, her eyes hooded with sleep. "John? Is he hungry?"

"Shhh," John whispered, not looking away from their son.

"All right," Mary stated, assuming John had already taken care of it and turned back to go to bed. However, a flash of something in the darkness caught her eye and she turned toward it, squinting. Next to the window, off to the corner of the room was a deep shadow, one darker than the rest and appearing to belong to a tall object. She didn't remember such a thing being in Sammy's nursery, and the sight of it tickled at senses that hadn't been used in years. John didn't seem concerned but still she doubled back and stepped into the room, a deep feeling in her gut warning her that something was wrong and that she should turn and walk away—but maternal instincts won out.

The shadow shifted and Mary let out a startled gasp, pinned down by the sight of two red orbs staring back at her. A sick feeling settled in her stomach and clogged her throat, realizing with growing horror that the shadow was a man.

"J-John," she called, taking a step backward, her eyes not leaving the stranger in her home. They had to get out of the house—right now. "John!"

The red pinpricks blinked, a hissing laughter flowing from the corner of the room. "Foolish woman."

Mary turned toward her husband, only to once more be left breathless as yellow eyes met her own.

o0o

John jerked awake at the sound of his wife's scream and despite being a bit disoriented at first his body it seemed was on pure automatic as he raced up the stairs yelling her name. He burst into the nursery where he could have sworn the sound had come from and looked around to find it empty except for Sammy who was wide awake and making cute little baby noises.

"Hey, Sammy. You okay?" John asked, smiling down at his small son in relief. He really needed to lay off the late night war movies. They were obviously starting to get to him.

As John continued looking into Sam's crib however, something wet dripped onto the pillow right beside Sammy's head. He reached down with a frown to touch the dark liquid, another drop falling onto his hand. A frozen tendril gripped his heart, causing it to hammer against his ribs. Breath leaving him in short pants, he looked up to the ceiling—and never again would John Winchester be able to close his eyes without seeing the image of his wife plastered to the ceiling, bleeding from the abdomen, staring open-mouthed, with a look of horror marring her beautiful face.

"Mary!" he shouted, surprised he could even speak with the bile burning like acid in his stomach. He took a step away from the crib and slumped to his knees, unable to tear his eyes away from the morbid sight before.

With a sudden whooshing sound, flames burst forth; the fire spread over the ceiling, engulfing it and his wife in a matter of seconds. The heat licked at his skin and the sudden crying from his crib restarted his brain on autopilot. Standing to his feet and wincing at the fire, John bundled Sam into a thin blanket and lifted him out of his crib. He ran for the nursery door, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck sizzle, the only thing going through his mind being getting his sons to safety. As he ran to leave the room with Sam huddled to his chest Dean appeared, having been woken by all the noise.

"Daddy!" Dean shouted, terrified by all of the commotion and confusion going on around him.

John handed Sammy over to Dean, needing to at least try to save his wife despite knowing there was nothing he could do for her. "Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back. Now, Dean, go!" he shouted urging Dean forward. With a frightened nod, Dean took off and John turned and ran back to the nursery, shielding his eyes when the flames roared and leapt forward as if with a life of their own.

"Mary!" he called once again. Through the flames consuming the room he could just only make out the outline of his wife, but the wall of fire blocked him. Soon Mary disappeared as well, lost under the hungry flames. Again John screamed the name of his wife, his voice reverberating throughout the entire house. But he was too late.

o0o

Dean made it outside with Sammy cradled in his arms, not knowing what was going on and his little heart thrumming like a hummingbird inside his chest. He stopped in their front yard and turned to look at his house, a bright orange light shinning from the window of Sammy's nursery. Dean didn't know what was happening. He had just been sleeping in his room when all this chaos broke out. He didn't know what to do, but he did know that whatever he did he had to keep Sammy safe.

"Its okay, Sammy," Dean whispered as Sammy continued whimpering, even though in his heart, he knew that no… it was not okay. At that moment his daddy came running out of the house and lifted Dean off his feet. He held Sammy even tighter in his arms as the man ran with them across the yard and into the street.

"I gotcha," Dean heard his daddy say just as Sammy's nursery exploded.

No, Dean realized, staring at the swirling mass of fire. From then on, things would never be the same.

IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Just to make sure this wasn't ignored, I repeat: before anyone accuses me of plagiarizing, this story was adopted from Branwen777 with permission from ConstantSnow, who had originally been going to pick up the story. Branwen herself adopted the story from adorable baby dinosaur, so as you can see now, this story has changed hands MANY times. Again, full permission was given from all authors involved.