A/N: Yeah... I don't know where this came from. Excuse this abomination, yes? Unbeta'd, because I figured it couldn't get any worse. Kind of short, because my conscience wouldn't let me torture anyone for too long. Enjoy, if you can. :) Kinda disjointed, may make a sequel or related fic if the muse hits.
Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter. Only Dean Winchester. Er... I mean, I don't own Supernatural.
Something Lilac This Way Comes
It was so shockingly… unnatural, that Dean could only blink. And blink again. And then struggle to keep from gagging.
Teeth that shiny could not be natural.
And the clothes. Who wears lilac anything, anyway? How could this… this abomination wear that awful colour and still hold his head high and call himself male? It just… it didn't make sense. At all.
And it was some kind of robe, too, on top of being that blindingly purple shade. Or maybe it wasn't a robe, just some sort of weird-shaped dress, which didn't make sense either, because there were all these people - girls and guys - cooing and goggling at this glaring insult to male kind, and if he were wearing a dress, they wouldn't be doing that, right? Right? It just… it had to be a mistake. A dream, maybe. A nightmare. A joke, perhaps?
Dean turned to Sam, hoping desperately to make sense of this atrocity.
"Sam… is this guy for real?"
Sam didn't answer him, though, because he was too busy staring in fascination at the strange creature standing in the middle of the street, gravely reassuring a salivating fangirl that, should she ever have the misfortune to be attacked by a werewolf to never fear, because Gilderoy Lockheart would be there to save her from a horrible fate - provided there was a telephone box within which he could kill the creature, of course. Or something like it. Dean heard the words, but they generally didn't make it far enough into his brain to register as anything making sense.
Ignoring this, he poked Sam in the ribs. "Sam… Sam!" He said in a harsh whisper, dismissing the annoyed looks cast his way.
His brother gave a little jolt and looked back at him, giving him an unintelligent look and a, "Huh?"
"Common, is it a succubus, shape shifter, something? A witch, maybe? Because for cryin' out loud, this thing can't be human."
Sam, still not really listening, muttered in an awestruck whisper, "He must bleach his teeth. It's the only explanation. I mean, it's just insane how shiny they are. Do you think he might be willing to give me some pointers, because if he can get his teeth that white and still attract girls, he's got to have some kind of secret..."
Dean could only stare at his brother in stupefied horror. The thing was a witch. Wizard. Whatever. Had to be. It had his brother under a spell, he was sure of it, because that was the only way he could explain Sam actually considering getting his teeth turned into that horrific shade. This thing had cast its mojo on his brother, and Dean Winchester would not stand for it.
Grimly determined, he got a tight hold on his sawed-off and prepared to pull it out from under his jacket and blow the fuck out of this monstrosity. He would kill this thing, get his brother and the crowd out of its hold, and they could go on their merry way, and Dean would never have to think about shiny or lilac ever again.
Unfortunately, Dean never got the chance to shoot It, because Sam chose that moment to check what his brother was doing, and when he saw the tell-tale movements that indicated Dean was about to shoot some unfortunate soul, he clasped a hand tightly on Dean's arm, preventing him from moving.
"You can't shoot him," Sam said firmly, voice lowered so as not to attract the attention of the crowd. Dean Looked at him, feeling strangely scandalized.
"Not shoot that thing? Sammy, I'm doing this for the betterment of man kind. Who the hell calls 'emselves Gilderoy Lockheart anyway, demon or no? I mean, that's just like... like…" Words failing, Dean settled for shooting an arctic glare at the beaming creature in the eye-gouging outfit and tried harder to pull his arm out of Sam's grip.
"Look, Dean," Sam said, voice slightly patronizing, and tightened his hold on his struggling brother. "He's not a demon, a witch, a succubus or anything else. He's just a strange guy with… special tastes, okay? We can't just go 'round shooting random people when they annoy us. We're the good guys, remember?"
When Dean still refused to let go, Sam heaved a sigh and pulled out the 'big guns':
"Dean... what would Jesus do?"
Dean swallowed, feeling mutinous but knowing Sam was right, and reluctantly relinquished his hold on his shotgun. "All right, fine, you win; but I'm keeping an eye on this… thing. It might be dangerous."
Sam rolled his eyes indulgently and began to pull Dean away from the crowd, neither of them noticing as the crowd, the lilac clothed man and the building he had been standing under faded into nothing as they moved away. "Sure, Dean, whatever you say. Maybe he scared away that werewolf by smiling at it."
Dean smiled himself at that, a bit reluctantly, and allowed Sam to pull him away. "Yeah… though he probably blinded it first."
They both snickered and moved on their way, Sam thinking over the possibilities of where he could get a good bleach like that, and Dean wondering if having the army's uniforms changed to lilac instead of camouflage might have helped the poor bastards out a bit during WWI and II. It might have blinded the enemy long enough to give them a chance to shoot the shit out of them.
It sure worked for Goldenroy, if the way some of the crowd had been wincing and covering their eyes was any indication.
Something occurred to Dean then, and he turned to look at Sam with a dark glare. "Oh, and Sam? If you so much as consider getting your teeth bleached, I will break your face. Permanently."
Sam pouted outrageously, making puppy dog eyes at Dean as he whined, "Deeeeean, but what if we run into a werewolf? I need to be able to blind myself away from danger! Who KNOWS if my lilac jumpsuit will be enough to scare it away?"
Ignoring that curious looks thrown his way as he burst out laughing, Dean allowed himself to forget the odd thing in the purple bath robe and move on to things that made more sense.
For now.
A/N: To possibly be continued in the future, if Dean gets in the mood for lilac. :) Please drop me a line if you enjoyed it anyway, despite its lack of beta'ing and any sort of sense.