Looney Lovegood ||Supernatural/Harry Potter||

Prologue

This story is not fully edited. I'm sorry for any grammar, spelling and plot mistakes, or even bad writing you encounter while reading this book.

In Nazareth, Texas, hornets buzz and spiders spin their webs in hopes of seizing the opportunity to capture prey. Black fleas and white mites take it upon themselves to cavort around the tall grass of a tan house that could have once been the color white, obviously having seen better days. The windows of the house were cracked or shattered, and contained peculiarly colorful stains. What remained of the glass was scattered on the ground, the sharp panes caked in mud.

Moss covers the walls and fills in the cracks in the wooden frame, the frames themselves looked ready to give up and collapse at any given moment. The porch leads to the chipping paint of a green crooked door, containing a multitude of holes where many people have fallen through many times to count. The jagged, broken railing provided no support to those whom are brave enough to attempt to climb up the stairs.

Townsfolk take special warning not to cross paths with the house, making their own legends to frighten others from entering the falling apart building. Hence, the gravel pathway that lead to  the house was unchanging, abandoned, and grown over. Howbeit, if one were to pass by the poor excuse for a house one mid-day afternoon, they would be surprised when their eye catches a fantastical sleek black Impala that laid in the ascetically unpleasing drive way. Consequently, the illusion of the house is broken and bystanders are left wondering.

Smashing into the wall with a loud grunt, Dean Winchester glared at the offender whom stood glaringly from the other room. The large hole in the wall was left as evidence of collision that occurred. What was left of the wall contained patterned wallpaper chips off and peeled as if it too was revolted by the smell that was contained inside the building. 

The attacker was a small blond women with a pink, sweaty face that quickly disappeared from view as she turns away from the man and towards a bowl. Continuing her craft, the women once again began to chant in Latin whilst holding a dirtied picture with her long, curled and oily fingernails. Quickly raising her knife to draw her blood into the rusted metal in front of her, she gets knocked over the head with a large book that a tall brown haired man carried, he whom could only be identified as Sam Winchester, younger brother of Dean.

The knife that was once in the woman's hand went flying across the room from where the blonde had landed on her back. In consequence, the women saw red. She looks up and hisses at the man, her yellow, black, rotting teeth gathering together enough saliva to spit on the youngest Winchesters face.

Across room Dean quickly stood at his brothers save and throws his rock salt gun across the room. Having walked into the house thinking that the Winchesters were dealing with a simple salt in burn, they where unprepared for the surprise they had gotten when stepping into the house and seeing the women hunched over the book Sam had smacked her with. Knowing the uselessness of the gun in the situation, it would only get in the way of their hunting.

Realizing her situation, the women began to back away from the brothers as a last attempt to escape the duo, Dean walking up to stand by his younger sibling who began to wipe the string of spit running down his cheek. Comprehending the likelihood of her escape, she pulls carelessly down on her greasy and clumped hair, covered with dried mud and sweat. Strands of the once yellow strands are ripped out nervously as the brothers descend upon the blonde.

"Sam, if your going to look like her if you don't shower every day," Dean looks at his brother then back to the young teenager in disgust and arrogance, "You can go first, just don't waste all the warm water."

Taking a quick glance at the other man, he shakes his head at his brother banter in their situation. "Thanks, Dean," Sam replies dryly before looking down at the girl in front if him, empathetic, "She just a teenager."

"Yeah a lot of monsters are 'just teenagers'," The green eyed Winchester spat, crouching down to look into the glare that the green eyed girl bared into them. A understanding how she is now cornered, wedged between two walls and completely to the mercy of the two men did not seem to please her in any form.

"It doesn't justify what she's done," Dean continues, frowning.

Quickly seizing the opportunity, the women raised her hand towards the older siblings face. Her long nails rake across his cheek bones leaving behind deep scratches that began to bleed rapidly. "Son of a bitch," Dean angry yelps, jerking away from the blond in instinct. Sam swiftly replaces his brother, grabbing both of her twig-like arms.

Touching his face and removing his fingers when he felt the wound sting, he began to let out a string of curses as he lifted his hand to his eyes to see blood slipping down his fingers and onto his favorite jacket. "I'm going to kill that-"

"I got her, Dean," Sam interrupts as the girl continues to struggle in his grip, whaling and kicking as he is attempts to lift her up to her feet.

"Yeah, you got her alright," Dean remarks, glaring angrily at the blonde. "I'll check on Cassie."

With a sharp nod of Sam's head, he proceeds to drags the girl out to the backyard while the green eyes Winchester opens his flip phone to dial the brunette they had meet earlier during their case. Realizing that she was going to be the next victim, the Winchesters made sure to stick close to the women. The older Winchester sibling only found her to be obnoxious and vain, making their interactions with the victim strenuous and distasteful.

"Dean?" Her panicked voice asks when she picked up, "Dean, I'm I safe?"

"We got her," the man reassures her, "your safe, Cassie."

"Thank god!"

Don't thank him, Dean thinks to himself as the woman rambles on about how worried she was, occasionally adding a thank you between her sentences. "Your welcome," The Winchester grumbles, as he slams close his phone.

Oo\./oO

Walking across the remains of a retro carpet and into a kitchen, Sam notices his older brother staring at the objects left on the table. Stopping to stand next to him, Dean acknowledged his presence by tilting his head towards him. "We good?" He asks him, wiping his hand across his cheek, effectively smearing blood across his face.

"Yeah," Sam sighs, crossing his arms.

"Great," The green eyed sibling replied with slight relief and satisfaction at a another successful hunt. Turning to walk out of the death trap called house, Sam following closely after. Dean than promptly begins to curse as his leg falls through the wooden boards of the porch. Pulling his leg out and he proceeds to wipe the gleaming white remains of a spiders web from his jeans.

Opening the driver seat door after escaping the house, Dean stepping into his beloved Impala before slamming the door shut and resting on the sleek black leather. Turning on the engine and hearing it purr back to him, the older Winchester turns to look at his brother as he joins him in the car, shifting into reverse.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate witches?" He raises his eyebrow towards him before reaching out, turning on his music and pulling out before Sam could get a word in.

1298 words