A/N: This has been more popular than I expected :)

Chapter Two

Explanations

"Ste-um, Harry," Sam spoke up after a lengthy pause, once it didn't seem like the witch was going to explain what he meant.

Harry looked up startled. "You can call me Stephen if you like," Harry replied, his hair and eyes melting blonde and blue.

"No, I think it's easier to call you Harry. Stephen was a student at Stanford I vaguely knew; you are," Sam tried to explain.

"No problem," and the hair and eyes melted back to black and green. "I suppose I should explain more about me, huh?"

"That would be appreciated," Dean gritted out, feeling very impatient.

"Keep your knickers on, seriously," Harry retorted cheekily.

"Right, well, long story short, I was born to a witch and a wizard, but had the really bad luck of not being gifted any magic of my own. People like that are called squibs, and basically, I was doomed to a life of being looked down on by the Wizarding World and possibly eventually escaping to the Muggle world, er, non-magic world, and becoming a janitor or something."

"So you made a deal for magic so you could fit in?" Sam asked.

"Er, well, hold on. At first, no one knew. Magic doesn't really show until at least the toddler years. When I was one, this Dark Lord wizard guy called Voldemort attacked my family, killed my parents, and tried to kill me. Because of a series of events no one really knows or understands, his magic failed to kill me, and instead, it split his soul and destroyed his body. Part of his soul went into me and with it, hypothetically, I gained magic. I went to a school for magic at eleven, failed to stop Voldemort's return to power in my fourth year, and defeated him when I was seventeen by first getting myself killed to destroy his soul piece inside me and then coming back to kill the rest of him."

"You lost your magic," concluded Sam.

Harry gave an awkward grin. "You got it. Man, I was devastated. So, I met a demon who probably was attracted to all the blood on the battlefield, made a contract, and now I've got magic again that I can use just like before – hell, better than before – except the source is no longer me. Er, well, no longer Voldemort's soul piece."

Dean started driving again and the car was silent as the Winchester brothers thought over this strange story. They had no reason to believe this person, but they didn't have many other options. He wasn't going to tell the truth just because they ask if he was indeed lying, they didn't have enough info to avoid him successfully, and as of yet they couldn't kill him. The best they could do for now was trying to collect a bit more information on him. Bobby, when asked, said he never heard of a hunter who was also a witch, but also never heard of a rogue witch that fit Harry's description. He promised to ask around, but otherwise couldn't help much.

"Harry, why were you at Stanford?" Sam finally asked.

Harry shrugged. "Well, when I realized what I did, I couldn't stick around in the Wizarding World for a variety of reasons, major one being guilt, second major one being that demon dealing is highly illegal. I told everyone I'd be going into hiding from Voldemort's followers and moved to America. The college idea was never anything serious. I cheated my way through pretty much all of it using magic. Basically, I needed more info on just what the contract meant, so school was just a cover while I poked around. Gotta say, Sam, I didn't expect to attend college with a hunter."

Sam scowled, probably about to say that at that point in his life, he was trying to give up the hunter life when Dean interrupted.

"Didn't ever expect a witch to be a hunter either."

Harry grinned. "Well, it was ruining my manly pride being a witch after so long of being a wizard that I just had to at least pick a decent career. Hunter. Damn, but that sounds like tough guy stuff."

"Ha!" Dean exclaimed. "I have to agree with you on that point."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, tough guy stuff, chasing ghosts, dodging police, faking identities and raiding cemeteries for bones."

"Well when you've spent your school years protecting a stone that gifts eternal youth and wealth, killing a basilisk, fending off soul-suckers, facing dragons, warrior mermaids, sphinxes, and resurrection rituals, discovering prophecies, hunting ripped soul pieces, and finally defending a castle from giants and werewolves, being a hunter is pretty awesome over any other post-school alternatives I know of."

Dean swore, and then pulled over onto the shoulder. "God-dammit, I can't drive if you keep saying stuff like that!"

"What kind of hellish school did you go to?" Sam exclaimed as he straightened himself up after the car's swerving.

"A pretty good one, really, a nice castle filled with magic. Mostly, the problem was Voldemort trying to come back from his in-between state he ended up in after the attack on my family. Evil bastard wasn't about to give up on his plans of world domination and muggle extermination, after all."

"Muggle?" Sam questioned.

"Er, yeah, it means people without magic like you and Dean."

There was stunned silence. "So basically, there's this whole fucking society out there no one knows about where powerful 'Dark Lord' types rampage and decide to massacre the lot of us," Dean summed up.

"Well," Harry mused aloud, "I know the Prime Minister knows, and I assume your President does too. A lot of those terrorist attacks that England was suffering from a few years ago? Yeah, that was Voldemort and his Death Munchers. There's no point in worrying about it now, though. The Wizarding World is in a state of peace with just a couple small fries left to wrap up. And knowing the Wizarding World, peace means stasis where all the citizens choose to ignore the rest of the planet and nothing changes until the next Dark Lord rises."

Dean and Sam traded looks before turning back to the witch in the back seat who was now poking around the seat cushions and exclaiming happily when he found a penny.

"Shouldn't we worry about this next Dark Lord?" Sam finally asked.

"Er," Harry delayed as he fiddled with his hood and silently offered the penny to Dean who shook his head, irritated. Harry shrugged and put the coin into his jeans pocket, slouching in his seat as he answered. "Voldemort died a couple years ago, having risen to power almost twenty years before that. The Dark Lord before him was Grindewald," the witch continued, ticking off the Dark Lords on his fingers, "who caused trouble during and a few years before the second World War. I think the Dark Lord before him was over half a century dead by then. So either you average the years of peace and decide that there's probably another few decades before you have to worry about it, or draw a downward sloping graph and worry right now."

"Why are you so fucking calm about this?" Dean growled.

Harry blinked. "Well, the US hasn't had a Dark Lord in, well, ever, mostly because the magical community here is smaller and broken up over the large expanse of land. Did you know that despite the fact North America is a significantly larger land mass than Europe, it only has one school for magic while Europe has three? European and Asian Dark Lords also happen to be mostly satisfied with their home continent, so you don't have to worry much about that either. My friends are all trained and skilled in fighting from their experience with Voldemort so I don't worry too much about them, and I self-exiled myself after the demon contract. Nowadays, I worry more about newspaper articles speculating over a mysterious series of death-by-pneumonia."

There was a short silence as none of the three men were sure who should speak up next when Dean finally asked, "Is it safe to drive now?"

Harry smirked. "That depends on if you have any more questions. Answers from me always tend to be quite startling the first few conversations."

"So then, about that demon deal you made," Sam continued, interested in learning about the contract that seemed to result in such different abilities than most witches they've come by. The brothers have only been around Harry a total of two or three 'casual' hours and his power was already intimidating. "How is it different from other deals? I mean, do we have to worry about witches being able to teleport and shape-shift from now on?"

Harry frowned and ruffled his hair a little before answering. "I'm afraid the only answer I can give you is that I highly doubt it."

"That's not very reassuring," Dean scoffed.

"Okay then, how about I give you the second half of the 'Mione Theory of Harry's Latest Bout of Stupidity?" Harry laughed. "The Voldemort's soul piece giving me magic was the first half, by the way."

"'Mione Theory?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, one of my two best friends, Hermione, is an absolute genius. You don't think a guy like me had any idea what I was getting into with that demon problem did you? Or even had any idea where to find out?"

Neither Winchester had an answer, seeing as they didn't know the witch that well in the first place as anything more than a potential threat who could be rather irritating with his lack of ability to sit down and just be serious. Actually, that kind of behavior did make it unlikely for him to be the type who could figure out his situation on his own.

"So anyone, what 'Mione said is that magical people are born with a core of magic that builds channels through our bodies as we age, eventually to the point that we can send magic from our core through a wand like this," Harry withdrew a long stick from the pocket of his hoodie.

"May I?" Sam asked, reaching over.

"Er, probably not a good idea. This one's kind of temperamental. Hold on," the witch replied, taking out another, slightly shorter stick and handing it over to Sam.

"You have more than one? And what do you mean temperamental?" Dean questioned suspiciously, parking his car on the highway shoulder as he gave up on any more driving before Harry leaved.

"Wands are semi-sentient," Harry explained, "and I'll discuss that second wand issue later. So continuing on, the thing about muggles is that they weren't born with cores and thus don't have a convenient storage place for magic, or a way to channel it. When a muggle makes a deal with a demon for magic, what the demon does is give that person a connection to the natural magic that can be found in the earth and air. Using powerful symbolic items in hex bags and weaving strong intent through chants, witches can control magic with that gifted connection. You with me so far?"

Dean and Sam nodded, the latter slightly more interested than the former but both understanding this was information not commonly known.

"When I made the deal, I had grown up a wizard, with a core and channels, just no more magic or ability to make more. Thus, when the connection was made, natural magic is siphoned into my core and I can channel it like I'm used to – with a wand and spell. This connection actually gives me almost unlimited amounts of magic, so I've been getting good at wandless glamours – the changing of my appearance like I used at Stanford. My physical body doesn't change, just the way you perceive me. As for the second wand, that goes into more detailed theory and has little to no relevance to anything you guys might get yourself into. You really want to know?"

Sam nodded. "Of course."

"You're such a nerd," Dean teased, and gave a mock yelp when Sam punched him in retaliation.

"Alright then," Harry continued. "I told you wands are semi-sentient, right? Well, part of that is because of what they're made of and how that changes their compatibility with different people's magic. That wand," Harry pointed to Sam's hand, "is the wand I got before going to Hogwarts when I was eleven – holly with a phoenix feather core. The same phoenix gave another feather, which was the core of Voldemort's wand, except his wand is made of yew."

"I see," Sam said, rolling the holly wand in his hands with interest as he peered at the worn handle. "Because your magic was Voldemort's magic, both of you ended up with wands of the same core."

"Dude, phoenixes are real?" Dean blurted.

"Haha, yes phoenixes are real, though extremely rare," laughed Harry, "and yes, you're absolutely right, Sam. Back then, no one thought of such a possibility because it was simply unheard of. Instead, it was simply assumed that there was some other, more mundane reason, like maybe we were both really powerful, or maybe our lives were tied together through Voldemort's attempt to murder me. Now I know better. That wand," Harry gestured towards Sam, "no longer works for me because my magic is no longer Voldemort's. I keep it mainly for sentimental reasons actually," the witch admitted with a slight blush.

"So you found another wand that worked for your new source of magic? Did anyone find that strange, changing wands after so many years?"

"Actually Sam, not many people know I changed wands, because I left so soon after the final battle. This wand," Harry waved it through the air releasing red sparks, "is actually a bit special. It is called the Elder wand, and it changes allegiance to whoever disarms its last owner, regardless of magic-type, and even manages to enhance the strength of its current master in a show of extraordinary compatibility. This is both good and bad for me. It's good because I defeated its last master thus it works more than perfectly for me. It's bad because the wand is a famous legend in the Wizarding World so if anyone finds out I have it, I'll probably be hunted down by all sorts of people from my old home."

"That, um, sounds unpleasant."

"Oh yes," Harry agreed, nodding absentmindedly as he fiddled with his hood's drawstrings. "Actually, my whole life right now is a mess. I defeated the last Dark Lord, so there are rabid fans and reporters after my blood. Because of the change in my magic, they can't find me through conventional means, which will likely end up bring suspicion from the government sooner or later. If the underground starts to suspect that this change in magic is because I have the Elder wand that last belonged to a powerful old man most assumed to be my mentor, I'll have antique collectors and power-hungry warrior-wizards pursuing me as well. Add on the fact that it's taboo to even talk to a demon in the Wizarding World and that I have to practically kill myself every month to keep my soul and magic – really, the only thing keeping me sane is my ability to ignore my problems and drown out my thoughts by hunting the supernatural. Speaking of which, that news article about the deaths by pneumonia I mentioned earlier? It wasn't just a hypothetical example. Would you mind taking care of it? Tomorrow's the new moon, so I'll be out of it for the next three days. I can help after that if necessary, but I'd like someone to take a look at the situation as soon as possible, you know?"

Sam and Dean shared a glance. It was clear from Dean's indignant expression that he didn't take kindly to the idea of a witch ordering them around to their next job, but Sam cut in quickly, more interested in the news than the one delivering it. "We'll look into it," he promised.

Harry smiled and plucked a rolled up newspaper from midair before handing it over to Sam. While the brothers blinked in shock at the display, Harry gave a cheeky wave and popped out with a soft crack.

"Tch, seriously Sam?"

"Yes Dean," Sam sighed, opening the newspaper to find the article in question. "Just because he's a witch doesn't mean he can't read newspapers and pick up on supernatural activity. Heck, being supernatural probably makes him better at it, and you're the one always going on about how it's our job to take out the evil from the world."

Dean scowled and turned the engine back on. As he smoothly drove the car back onto the highway, he reached a hand over and flipped the music on.

A/N: So that's it, pretty much. Future updates will be totally spontaneous and out of the blue. It's simply too much bother to keep track of the timeline to a show I've never watched, so it all depends on my fits of motivation to research on the wikia site for plot progression.

Again, if anyone wants this, let me know so I can read it too :) Otherwise, meh, maybe I'll work in some Harry-saves-Max action with liberal obliviate usage, haha.