Supernatural/Harry Potter Crossover   6 comments

Title: Surprising You

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Harry Potter

Summary: Dean has a big surprise in store for his father, brother and Bobby. He’s married! And he and his husband-wife is expecting. SURPRISE! Dean/Harry, mpreg, feminine-elf!Harry.






Chapter 1:



He ignored the call, and continued with his work of sketching out the new design. He was using an HP Digital Design Pad, instead of the normal paper and pencil, and he was actually enjoying himself – though, to be fair, he always enjoyed himself when it came to his work.


He drew out the sleeve, and then the hem of the blouse…


Startled, Harry jumped in his seat (his cozy black office chair) and looked up, to the face of his assistant, Rachelle Adamson. She was seven years older than him, at 24-years-old, but had just finished her bachelor’s degree in Fashion Design in San Francisco a year ago. She was tall, about 5 foot 9, and had chin-length wavy light brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. She and Harry quickly connected when she came in looking for a job and Harry, whose company was brand-new and just starting, decided that she would make an wonderful assistant. Rochelle helped him pretty much everything that involved his business, from helping him research current trends, helped him with designing ideas, hiring for jobs (go-sees, photographers, make-up, etc).

Harry was currently the youngest fashion designer in the world, making him the single most headline news in the fashion industry at the moment. He was considered the prodigy of Fashion, having received his Master’s Degree in Fashion/Design, Business and Buying and Merchandising at just 15-years-old. The second he graduated college (he had taken both on-line and on-campus programs and courses from age ten to fifteen), Harry quickly started his own line of clothing and other products. His line was called Exceeding Elements, or E.E.

He wasn’t only running a clothing boutique, however. Harry also had his own manufacturing company, where all the products were manufactured and shipped. It was in one large building, which Harry proudly said was his Empire.

He wasn’t just a prodigy in fashion, though. He was also one in academics, thanks to his eidetic memory. While living at the Dursleys in England, Harry finished muggle schooling by the time he was nine-years-old. The Dursleys, they hated Harry, so when Harry was offered a scholarship to college, they agreed. Harry attended Oxford University until he went into Hogwarts at eleven. Then on, Harry attended summer classes and did online programs during the summers away from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Even at Hogwarts, Harry was a prodigy. Though, nobody else but he and the goblins new this as he hid his intelligence and advanced magic from everyone, even his friends Ron and Hermione. Harry realized the moment he entered the wizarding world that he didn’t belong there. His number one passion was fashion, and when he saw the fashion of the wizarding world, he was appalled and horrified. It wasn’t just the fashion sense of the wizarding world that made him realize this, though. It was also the behavior of the people, and how they worshipped or hated him. It was disturbing and hellishly annoying. There wasn’t any way he could live with that attention on him.

He worked his ass off behind the scenes. Every night, Harry would stay up late studying and reading through the school library.

It wasn’t just his eidetic memory that helped him succeed however. It was thanks to his wandless magic that he was able to practice over the summers and not get caught. He learned quickly that his wandless magic was untraceable, unlike his wand-magic. Harry had discovered his wandless magic ability when he was a toddler, and after being caught by his uncle and aunt and then punished for it, Harry learned to hide his magic, and anything he did he used subtly, so as to have himself a beating.

So with a combination of his eidetic memory and his wandless magic, Harry aced through the magical subjects at Hogwarts, even the ones he hadn’t taken like Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. He read up on all the subjects, electives and even things that had no place in the school curricular academics, such as healing charms, spells, potions, jinxes and several books that he had snuck out of the Restricted Section. In classes, Harry held back, not wanting anyone to catch on to his brilliance. It was somewhat easy, because of his friendship with Hermione – she was like a clutch, someone he could hide behind and use, to hide his own intellectual mind. The teachers would focus on her and not him in his classes. Harry always made sure that he never did better than Hermione, but never did worse than Ron (which was actually quite easy for anyone, not just Harry, as Ron was the worst slacker of their year group). He made sure to fall in between, neither straight Outstanding nor straight Troll; Harry hung between Exceeding Expectations and Acceptable.

As Harry moved up in years at Hogwarts, he began to regret ever allowing Hagrid to take him to Diagon Alley. By the end of fourth year, Harry had experienced betrayal, backstabbing, death, media backlash and torture. Everyone at some point had turned their backs on Harry, especially when he needed them the most. When the school found out he was a parselmouth in second year, all of his peers turned their backs on him. When his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, they again turned their backs, as did his supposed best friend, Ron Weasley. Hermione, she may not have outright told him that he was a liar and a cheat, but she had done her best to avoid being seen in his company, like she was embarrassed to be seen with the school outcast. She hadn’t supported him like she should have. Only when he had won his first task with the dragon, did everyone once again worship him.

Then he had witnessed Cedric Diggory’s death, and the rebirth of Voldemort. Harry had been tortured in more ways than one that night – the cruciatus curse, watching his new friend die, and then being told that he was lying his ass off when he told everyone that Voldemort was back. Sure, Dumbledore believed him, but what was one old man’s word against the Minister of Magic and the rest of the world’s blatant disbelief and denial and utter fear of the truth?

It was after being called a liar once again, that Harry realized that he had had enough of the wizarding world. The second Harry reunited with the Dursleys, Harry had his uncle drop him off at the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron (he had promised the obese uncle that it was likely he and his family would ever see Harry again). In Diagon Alley, Harry had went straight to Gringotts Bank.

At Gringotts, the goblins produced emancipation papers, traveling documents, an ID, a Gringotts Debit Card and all the other papers needed to become an American citizen. He was given a room within the bank, where he stayed for two weeks while he took his OWL and NEWT exams. The goblins had hired the board of Magical Exams, and had placed them all under wizard oath for Harry’s sake. They tested Harry in his OWL levels and his NEWT levels, with the use of a time turner. It was two weeks inside the bank, but one week in actuality.

Harry had passed both exams with all Outstandings, straight across the board. With his OWL and NEWT exams taken and passed, Harry no longer required wizarding schooling, and with his emancipation, he was able to use wand-magic and was considered an adult.

Two and a half weeks into the summer, Harry got all of his primary and college transcripts, and headed to New York. He transferred from Oxford Uni, to The Art Institute of New York City, where he continued to work to get his Master’s degree in Fashion/Design, Business and Buying/Merchandising. After graduating, Harry then started his own line, E.E.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Harry smiled sheepishly up at his employee and friend.

“Sorry, Rochelle…What do you need?”

The brunette rolled her eyes and grinned back, before holding out this month’s Vogue magazine. “Guess who made front cover of one of the hottest fashion magazine’s of the world?”

Harry, seeing the magazine, gasped. “No way? Are you serious?” He quickly snatched it from her, and looked at the cover. He squealed excitedly when he spotted his very own E.E. couture dress – a beautiful baby blue strapless floor-length satin, with a beautiful layered hemline and fitted bodice. The model was one he had booked himself, Genevieve Joss, a 5 foot 10, long-legged and blonde and blue-eyed girl of just nineteen. Even the shoes were of Harry’s own design – a pair of clear, four-inch heeled stilettos. “Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m on the cover of Vogue Magazine!”

Rochelle grinned, “This calls for a celebration!”

Harry looked at her, “Dinner?”

She nodded, “Dinner. You, me, Mia and Joel, we can go to Geisha’s.”

“Sure, that sounds good, but only us four.” Harry stood up from his chair, exposing his large, swollen pregnant belly, and grabbed his bag, where he slipped the magazine inside. “I’m going to go home and get ready, then. Meet you at Geisha’s at 6:30?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’m going to go tell Mia and Joel.” With another smile, Rochelle left down the hall.

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, slid into his three-inch heeled knee-high boots (he always took them off at work), and left himself.

It was only 4:45, so it was still quite early. Because he was the boss and he owned his own company, he left whenever he felt like it, and sometimes, he didn’t even show up for work. Most of his work he did from his penthouse anyways, but he still came in at least twice a week, to check up on things. His business was one that pretty much ran itself, for the most part. He overlooked the creation of the clothing designs, though most he had designed himself. He overlooked the sketches, patterns, and prototypes. When he wasn’t there, Rochelle ran the place. The two also worked together (though Rochelle worked under him, of course), during Go-Sees, and sometimes during runway shows, but mostly, during the runway shows, it was Harry that did the overlooking and directing.

Harry owned, or more like inherited from the Potters, a large four-bedroom penthouse in Upper East of New York City. It was a really elegant and spacious place, with a master suite and bath, three other guestrooms, a bathroom, a large living room and a gourmet kitchen and pantry. When not working, Harry loved to cook, so he used his kitchen a lot. There was a swimming pool in the living room, and sometimes, Harry would go and sit in the pool while watching television. It was really, really nice.

The master suite was on the second level, while the three bedrooms and the bath were down stairs, along with of course, the kitchen, communal bathroom and the pool.

When Harry entered the penthouse, he heard the loud, exited barking of his 13-month-old English Mastiff, Kei. When Harry or Dean, his husband, weren’t at the penthouse, she was kept in her crate, which was pretty big, as it gave her a lot of room to move and sleep. Harry usually was at the house, so Kei didn’t spend much time in it.

Harry put his bag on the couch and made his way up the stairs to the master suite. Upon seeing him, Kei whined excitedly and her large silver fawn-colored body was quivering in excitement, and she barked.

“Hey Kei-Kei,” he cooed as he unlocked the crate. She shot out of it and nuzzled against him, licking and affectionately nipping wherever she could touch, but careful of Harry’s baby bump. “Aw, did you miss mummy?” he continued to coo, as he petted and kissed the large dog. Kei was his big baby, having rescued her from an animal shelter when she was just two and a half months old.

After a few more kisses, Kei hurried out of the room to run around. Harry sat down on the large king-sized bed and took his boots off, sighing in relief. Being eight-months pregnant and wearing heals, no matter how short, was torturous. Groaning, Harry picked himself up and his way to the master bath, deciding to take a short bath before the small dinner party later. Startling the water in the large sunk-in eight-person bathtub, and dumping a good portion of cinnamon-vanilla scented bath-salt into the heated water, Harry stripped out of his work clothes.

As he waited for the bath to fill, Harry took the time to look himself over in the full-length vanity mirror, and he smiled at what he saw.

While growing up, Harry had known he was different. He looked different than what the other boys looked like. He didn’t have the boyish features that they all had, at least, not all of the time. He had learned at a very young age – he couldn’t exactly remember what age, because he was so young – that he could switch his gender. He had a male form, and a female form, and he could switch to either at will. When he noticed this, he began walking around in his female form while using his wandless magic to glamour himself, so that it appeared as if he were still a boy. Nobody could see through his glamours, not even when he entered Hogwarts. It was there, that Harry discovered that he was what the wizarding world called a Magical Hermaphrodite (MH). MHs were very rare, the last had been born in the late 1600s, but they were also extremely cherished tot the male population of the wizarding world. Most, if not all, wizards were bisexual, and therefore liked both men and women. However, because men couldn’t get pregnant, they all had to marry women in order to reproduce and have heirs and all the children they wanted.

With a Magical Hermaphrodite, though, it was different. MHs were able to get pregnant while in either form, and because they could switch between male and female, it was like a two-in-one deal. So, yeah, the MHs were looked highly upon, and it was considered an honor to be one, and to marry one.

Harry loved his female form, and now that he no longer lived within the wizarding world, had canceled the glamours hiding his feminine features. He went around in his female form permanently now, unless in private with his husband, Dean. However, for the most part, he enjoyed being a woman, and preferred this form to his male form. Because he was a MH, he was considered neither one specific gender, but rather both – he was a girl in his female form, and a boy in his male form, but he still always thought of himself as a ‘he’, even in his female form.

On Harry’s eight birthday, he had awoken to new features – he had pointy ears, and was quite feminine, even in his male form. He hid this all under glamours as well. Everyone saw normal ears and a normal little boy with glasses. Also on his eight birthday, he came into some new abilities – he could shapeshift in any animal in existence, though all of his forms were black with emerald green eyes; he could control the elements Earth and Water; he could become invisible whenever he wanted to; he became somewhat clairvoyant, as he got visions of the past, present and future and was able to sometimes see lost souls or ghosts that other people couldn’t see. Also, he got the ability to heal – he could heal anything from internal injuries to a scrape on the knee.

It hadn’t taken him long to realize that he was an elf. Even muggles knew what elves looked like, and what the features of an elf were. He even had the jewel-like eyes…

However, it hadn’t been until his stay with the goblins that he found out where his elfin heritage came from. According to Lily Potter’s journal, the real Potter heir had died just hours after birth from SIDS. He hadn’t been named yet, at the time of his death. In grief, Lily and James and used a dark magic ritual to summon the first born of the same age, and that was what brought Harry to them. He had been just minutes old when the ritual had taken him from his birth parents. Lily and James magically adopted him, named him Harry James Potter and heir of the Potter fortune.

Harry hadn’t had a birth name, except Boswyndel, the surname of his real birth parents, Fiachre and Maeritsa Boswyndel. They were full-blooded Dark Elves. They had died just months after Harry’s kidnap, when their Snowden village was attacked by a pack of rogue werewolves. They had been severely weakened in their grief over the loss of their only child, and had been easy prey.

When Harry found out that Lily and James had kidnapped him from the arms of his parents, he had been saddened, angered and disgusted, and it had strengthened his loathing of the wizarding world all the more. He swore to himself that he would never come back.

Just a few weeks into his move in New York, he had met up with his soul mate, Dean Winchester, who had been on a salt-‘n’-burn. They had run into each other in Central Park, having been led there by the magical pull of their soul bond. Dean had been 24-years-old at the time, working a solo hunting job and Harry not quite 15-years-old, finishing up his Master’s Degree at the Art Institute of NYC, but age did not matter when it came to magical creature bond-mates.

Dean had at first been quite reluctant to stay and get to know Harry, but the pull was very strong and he couldn’t (rather, it wouldn’t let him) leave. The two eventually consummated their bond after two months of ‘getting to know each other’. After their consummation of the bond, they discovered that they had more than the bond connecting them – they had a telepathic link, which allowed them to communicate with one another through any distance, mentally. Also, they had a teleportation link, which allowed them to teleport to each other’s location. The teleportation didn’t actually link them – they could teleport wherever they wanted without the other – however, there was a link that allowed them to always be able to locate one another. The last was their empathic link, which allows them to occasionally, if their emotions were strong enough, feel what the other is feeling.

They used the telepathic link and the teleportation whenever Dean left to go hunt with his father and brother. Whenever Dean could, he would teleport to Harry, and whenever they were separated, they used their telepathic link to talk to each other. Dean had not told his family about his and Harry’s relationship.

On Harry’s 17th birthday, when he was four months pregnant, the two got married with Rochelle Adamson, Mia Carides and Joel Smyten as witnesses. It was more like them eloping then an actual wedding, but it was still nice. Dean had bought their rings – even though it was through credit card scams – and that included an engagement ring, which Harry had received two months before the wedding.

Shaking himself out of his wandering mind, Harry returned to studying himself in the mirror.

He was and always will be, small and short. Harry stood at 5 foot 2, and normal he didn’t way more than a 107lbs, but with being eight months pregnant, he had gained fifteen pounds, so he guessed he was now around 122lbs, and that included the weight of his breasts. His breasts had started at 36C cup, but had gone up to 38C cup. His hair was jet-black and straight though layered, and fell to his waist, and his eyes were emerald and jewel-like, a hint of his elfin heritage. His skin was porcelain smooth and pale, with without blemish with the one exception being his scar. His lips were blood red and lusciously full, and his nose small and adorable.

For being so short, his legs were quite long, or at least, they gave the illusion of being long, especially in high heels. Even pregnant, he was slender and petite. Although he hated his belly, he couldn’t deny that he still looked really good. Pregnancy suited Harry. With his elfin heritage, Harry’s eyesight became better, then even a normal human’s, and therefore he no longer needed his glasses.

All in all, he looked small, delicate and beautiful. Fragile, even, though he kind of was while pregnant, but not normally. Before he got pregnant, Dean had been teaching Harry hand-to-hand combat and how to handle knives and guns. He had learned fast with the knives and guns but his combat was still at work.

Turning away from the mirror, Harry climbed into the bathtub carefully, and got comfortable. He sighed as the warm water and cinnamon-vanilla scent washed over him, and he sunk down to where his shoulders were covered by suds.

Kei wandered into the open bathroom door, and lay down by the tub, to keep Harry company while he bathed.

He sat in the bath for a good thirty minutes, before showering and washing his hair and the suds of the bath off of him. With a towel around his hair, and a towel around his body, Harry and Kei left the bathroom. Standing in his walk-in closet, staring at his evening dresses, Harry realized that he didn’t have a maternity gown. Not even in his own collection, did he have a maternity gown. At the boutique shop, yes, but in his possession now, no…

He groaned and rubbed his face in frustration. He couldn’t go to Geisha in casual wear, which is the only maternity clothes, besides his work clothes, that he owned. “Crap!” He only had an hour and a half to get ready, to. “I’ll have to call Chelle.” Harry went down stairs to his bag, where he had put his cell-phone and called his assistant. “Chelle! Have you left the boutique yet?”

“Not yet, no,” Rochelle Adamson said over the phone. “Why? What’s wrong? What do you need?”

“Could you grab one of the maternity gowns on the racks and bring it over? Please? I don’t have a dress for dinner.”

“You don’t have a maternity dress?”

“Well, it’s not like we do fancy very often. We’re usually just going to a café for luncheons, Chelle. We don’t usually dine!” Harry made his way back up to his room, to gather the make-up kit. “Anyways, can you grab one and bring it over?”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll leave it at the receptionist and have them bring it up to you.”

“Right, thinks. Um, could you get the satin indigo one in my size?”

“Okay, yeah!”

“Bye!” Hanging up, Harry quickly dried his hair and body and slid into his thin, cotton gray robe, tying it around the waist.

An hour later, Harry was ready to go. He was dressed in the floor-length, indigo-colored satin gown. It hugged his figure, and accentuated the baby bump quite nicely. There was a diamond circular broach that fit right above the bump and right below the breasts. The gown was tight fitting around the bodice then flowed out elegantly when just reaching the tights. Harry pulled his long dark hair up in is a French twist with a diamond butterfly clip, and with a few curls hanging over his right shoulder. For make-up, it was light, with his mascara, eyeliner, a hint of light lavender and white shadow, and some foundation and clear, shiny lip-gloss on his already naturally blood red lips.

The dress and small matching clutch bag were $1800 dollars in his store.

“Kei!” Harry called from his room. “C’mere girl!” The large mastiff hurried into the room, and obediently went into the large crate where fresh food and water was put. “Good girl, Kei,” he cooed, as she curled up on her pink and white doggy bed.

Satisfied, Harry shut out all of the lights, locked the door and made his way out of the building, to meet his taxi.


“I bet you’re real proud of your kids too, huh, oh but I forgot, I wasted ‘em.” Dean smirked vindictively at the man that held him magically to the wall. The man, his eyes an ugly glowing yellow, growls angrily and Dean screams in pain as blood begins to pour from his mouth and chest. “Dad? Dad, please, don’t let him hurt me! Dad!”


“Shoot me, Sammy! It’s the only way! I can feel it, it’s still in me! SHOOT ME!”

“Sam? Sam, don’t you do it!” Dean cries out, blood dribbling from his mouth as he lays half-conscious on the floor. “Don’t you dare!”

Sam, tears in his brown eyes, shakes his head and then aims the gun at his possessed father’s knee and shoots.


The loud sound of vehicles colliding and wheels squealing…

The semi-truck continues to push the totaled and crushed ’67 Impala several yards and then off the road.

Two unconscious bodies, covered in blood, and one panicking Sam.


Dean was lying unconscious in the hospital bed, covered in bruises and cuts. A breathing tube was down his throat, helping him breathe.

Sam was standing beside his bed, staring at his dying brother with tears in his eyes. “C’mon man…You’ll be okay, Dean, I know you will…You have to.”


The doctor and the nurses gather around Dean’s bed, while trying to revive him. The paddles shock his bare chest, but still the machine reads that his heart has stopped beating.

“Time of death, 9:23a.m.” the doctor eventually speaks, frowning sadly at the dead young man.



“You’ll save Dean, for my soul and the colt?”

The yellow-eyed demon smirked coldly and nodded his head. “You have my word, John.”

John, tears leaking from his eyes, nodded. “Once my boy is awake, I’m yours.”


Sam notices the crowd of nurses at his father’s room, and panics. “Dad?” he hurries in, pushing passed the hospital employees and then stops dead in his tracks as he sees his father, lying on the hospital floor on his back, his chest not moving. “DAD!”


Harry jolted awake in bed, his face sickly pale. “Oh God…Dean.”

Looking at the clock on his bedside, it read 8:30 a.m. Panicking, as he had less than an hour, Harry jumps out of bed and dresses in a hurry. A pair of black leggings, a white and black tunic dress and some black ballet plats, and without bothering to brush his hair, he put it up in a messy ponytail. Grabbing his purse, Harry concentrated on Dean, and then teleported from his penthouse, out of New York City to the hospital. He had no idea where the hospital was, he was just following the bond he and Dean shared.

In seconds, he was standing in the parking lot of the hospital, invisible to all. He hurried into to building, found an empty bathroom stall, before becoming visible again and then heading toward the ICU. Looking like he knew where he was going, Harry walked the halls of the ICU trying to find his husband’s room. He would have asked the receptionist, but knew that the Winchesters wouldn’t be listed under their real name, and he had no idea what they were going by, so…


The panic in the voice was clearly evident, but the voice itself was echoed and distant, like he was hearing it through a phone that he was holding away from his ear. Harry froze in his steps, and turned as fast as he could, and gasped at the sight of Dean, running down the hall toward him, wearing hospital pants and gown. However, Dean was semi-transparent, clearly there but like he was fading.

“Dean?” Harry asked, gaping at his husband’s soul in horror. “Dean, what – “

“Harry, baby.” Dean came to a stop and looked relieved to see him. “Thank god you can see me! I’ve been running around this damn hospital all night! Nobody can see me but this freaky chick back there,” he gestured behind him. “Not even Dad or Sam can see me.”

Harry reached out to touch Dean, and winced when his hand went right through his image. He groaned and shook his head. “Dean, we have to get to your body. I have to heal you, you’re dying.”


“You’re having an out of body experience, so to say. This is your soul – your spirit, I guess – which is why I can see you. I’m clairvoyant remember? I can see lost souls, sometimes, and well,” he swallowed, “you’re obviously a lost soul. I need to heal you before it’s too late.”

“What’s that thing that’s after me?”

Harry shrugged as Dean quickly led him to his hospital room, before answering reluctantly. “I would guess it’s a reaper, love.”

They entered Dean’s hospital room, where Sam and John were sitting beside Dean’s bedside staring at the slowly dying Dean. The two were surprised when the heavily pregnant Harry entered, and were even more taken aback when he ignored them completely and headed right to Dean.

“Who the hell are you?” snapped John, standing up slowly, mindful of his broken and bruised body.

Harry continued to ignore him, and placed his hands strategically on Dean – one on his head, and one on his stomach – and closed his eyes. He called upon his elfin magic, his healing magic, and let it flow through him and into Dean. John, Sam and the wandering Dean, all stared as they saw a faint whitish-silver glow appear under Harry’s palms, and then circle the injured areas of Dean’s head and stomach.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” bellowed John as he took a step toward Harry.

“He’s healing me, Dad,” Dean answered, even though he was unheard. “Let him do his damn job!”

“Get away from my boy, you little bitch!”

Before either John or Sam could do anything, though, Harry relaxed and dropped his hands as the magic stopped, as Dean was healed as much as he could be. He looked around for his husband’s soul, but didn’t see it anywhere and sighed in relief, and took a seat next to Dean on his hospital bed. There weren’t any other chairs in the room, and his back was killing him. It was then that he registered John and Sam’s confused but threatening postures.

“You – “

John began to speak, but was cut off by Dean shooting up with a gasp, his eyes snapping open. However, he quickly began choking on the breathing tube that was down his throat.

Harry winced and grabbed his mate’s hand to try and calm him down “Call the doctor! He’s choking!”

A second later, the doctor was in the room, and pulling the tube out of Dean. Once the tube was out, Harry grabbed the Styrofoam cup full of cold ice water that was beside the bed next to the chair Sam was seated in, and held it up to Dean, who took a large gulp, to soothe his aching throat.

“Shit,” Dean croaked as he tried to clear his throat, “That’s fucking sucked.”

Harry rolled his eyes in exaggeration, though they were clearly filled with relief and concern. “Yes, well, you were nearly quite done for this time, Dean.”

Dean shot him a look of apology, while squeezing his hand. The doctor was going around, checking Dean’s vitals, while John and Sam scooted their chairs closer to Dean’s bed, staring at Harry with suspicion and wariness, while at the same time, they were staring in amazement at Dean’s quick and sudden recovery.

The doctor pulled back after looking at Dean’s eyes, and the look on his face was quite priceless. He looked as if he was completely stumped. He ‘hmphed’ and then shook his head, “Well, son, it looks like you have a devoted guardian angel watching your backside. There isn’t a damn thing wrong with you, apart from the minor cuts and bruises that are not fatal and are already on their way to healing. The head injury was like it never existed. No sign of it at all.”

Harry flinched when he heard a near growl come from John and asked, “When can he be released?”

The doctor looked over Dean’s chart, and shrugged, “Well, by this afternoon, if everything continues to look okay. He should be fine to leave then.”

Dean relaxed in relief, and Harry smiled. While the doc moved to converse with a nurse at the door, Dean moved the bed into a upright position and Harry scooted more so that he was closer to Dean, and wrapped his arms around his mate’s muscle-toned abdomen. He buried his head into Dean’s bare chest and gave into the tears he had wanted to fall since he received the visions.


6 responses to “Supernatural/Harry Potter Crossover

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  1. I have to say, every time I come to you have another fascinating post to read. A friend of mine was telling me about this topic several weeks ago. I think I will e-mail my friend the url here and see what they say.

  2. This fisrt chapter is awesome and I can’t wait for the next parts to come out. I really hope you’re able to update soon! ^_^

    Slash-n-Mpreg Addict
    • Thank you! For a while there, I thought nobody was reading what I was posting – that I was doing this blog for nothing. However, now I know that there is someone! I don’t know about ‘Surprising You’, I have it up for adoption. Anyone who loves it and wants to continue it on their own, may do so. However, until I get an offer, I’ll try my best to continue…

      Thanks again for your comment! I’m glad you enjoyed it.

      esprit du coeur
  3. I really love your stories. Is it possible to find out who adopts your stories, so that I can continue reading them?

    • Yes, once I get any offers for adoption, I’ll create a page so that I can post all the stories that have been adopted and to whom they have been adopted by.

      I’m glad you like my stories! Thank you so much, XD

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