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Disclaimer:I don't own Supernatural or Harry Potter, that privilege goes to CW/WB and JK Rowling.

Carry On My Wizard Son:

Harry received the call during the early hours of the night. It was their old friend Bobby Singer reporting about some unusual activity in the south of England. He assumed that it was a bunch of demons that formed a clan in down London, who were now treating parts of the city as their personal playground. Since Harry and his father James were two of the few hunters located in the United Kingdom, they were the only ones available at the time to take the job. He approached his father's room with the intent to wake him up so they could get to work, but he noticed James' light was already on.

"Couldn't sleep, James?" Harry asked his father.

"Only for an hour or so. Still recovering from the nest we took out a couple of days ago." James replied tiredly.

"Well you can sleep in the van; Bobby's given us a case. Demon activity down south. I'll give you the low down when we're on the road."

And with that, Harry left his father to get dressed and get the essentials ready. Bobby had told Harry that this job didn't fit the description of the usual demon attacks, so he decided to pack more than what was necessary. He knew he could take on any run-of-the-mill demon, but judging by destruction they had caused down in London, they weren't the type you could just trick into a Devil's Trap.

He went down to the basement to fetch the multiple cartons of salt, rock-salt pellets and holy water. He also took a couple of rosaries, just in case some demon tried to get smart and destroy their supply of holy water. Harry took the contents to the van, surprised to see his dad already seated in the driver's seat.

Well he sure didn't waste any time.

"What's that you got there kid?" James asked his son with an eyebrow raised.

"Extra supplies. Bobby said that this wasn't any ordinary job. Daisy Sullivan came over from the States after he told her of the job, now he can't get hold of her. Daisy was a good hunter; if she couldn't take them on, then it means we've got trouble." Harry said as he pushed the provisions forcefully into the back of the van.

James didn't reply to Harry after that. It was most likely due to the shock he felt after finding out about his friend's death. Harry didn't mean for his words to sound so harsh, but he needed his father to comprehend the severity of the situation and stop treating him as if he were a child. He may have been seventeen in age, but the life he lived had aged him significantly. Living a hunter's life wasn't something which every child dreamt of, yet James had forced this life on Harry for as long as he could remember.

At the age of one, Harry's mother was murdered by a demon. James' life became dedicated to hunting down the demon that took Lily away from him. When Harry turned seven, he began to teach him about demons, werewolves, shifters and everything else that went 'bump in the night'. He didn't allow him to go to regular school either and taught Harry by himself. He deprived his son from having a normal life. Nevertheless, Harry may have resented James for the damage he'd done to his life, but he understood his father's reasons. James had lost his wife to demons, it only made sense that he wanted to avenge her death. And Harry was okay with that fact.

After Harry put the duffle bags into the van, the duo departed on route to East London.

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Central Hackney was now a shadow of its former self. The Potters had arrived in the town under the cover of darkness, but it didn't hide the newly devastated land. The shops were in ruins and the residents no longer occupied the town. Harry was more than confused as to why the demons decided to do something like this. They liked to possess humans, make them do their evil bidding and what not. It wasn't in their MO to destroy their homes and leave a town looking like a wasteland. Demons wanted to stay on earth, anything was better than hell to them. Something wasn't right.

Harry looked across at his father for confirmation and saw his face turn as pale as snow.

"Harry, I think we should leave. Right now. This isn't our battle." James rushed out as he reached for the keys to turn the ignition.

"What do you mean it's not our thing?! Daisy is dead, killed by something down here. Of course it's our thing!" Harry shouted angrily at his father and took the keys out of the ignition.

He couldn't understand why he was acting like this. He and James had dealt with things much worse than this.

"Harry, listen to me. It's not safe and I'm taking you away from here."

Just as Harry began to protest, a mysterious figure appeared from behind. Harry looked through the rear-view mirror and saw a strangely clothed man with a white mask placed upon his face. His heart began to race. Demons did not go around dressing eccentrically so they could capture the attention of every human lurking about. They blended in, made their tasks much easier. Harry instantly regretted not listening to his father and wished they left before he spotted the masked figure.

"Shit!" James swore as he searched his compartment for something.

Harry looked at his father, puzzled as to what he was looking for at a time like this, all of the weapons were in the back!

"Gotcha!" He yelled as he retrieved something which resembled a stick. He then turned around and pulled out a cloak from one of the old boxes in the van.

"Harry, I want you to take this cloak and run into that alley on your left. Don't look back and don't hang around. This is not your fight."

"How can you say that? I'm staying with you, whether you like or not. You're my dad. Besides, what can this cloak do? Has it been souped up with hoodoo juice or something?" Harry replied.

"Don't argue with me boy. You need to disappear, the cloak will help you with that. Do this for your old man, please Harry."

James' voice began to crack. Harry could see that he was only barely keeping himself together. He thought that it was the end, that he could die. Harry didn't want to leave his father here to deal with the unknown man, yet he couldn't find it in his hear to deny him of what might have been his final request.

"Okay dad. I'll meet you at home." He beamed back at James, trying to fill him with confidence and hope, even if there was none. James only replied with a sad smile.

With that, Harry put on the cloak, left the van and ran faster than he ever ran before. Even faster than the time when he was chased by a nest of vampires. However, after making it into the alley, his curiosity got the better of him as he turned around to watch his father fight off the mysterious man. He surprised when his father began talking to the person instead of splashing holy water in its face. Even though he put considerable distance he put between himself and the action, he could hear their conversation.

"James Potter, well I never thought I would see the day you reappeared. You've been a naughty boy James. My Lord's been wanting a word with you for a while now."

Harry was somewhat surprised when he heard the masked man's voice. The brazen cockney accent that came out of the his mouth was not what he was expecting, let alone the man knowing his father's name. It wasn't uncommon for demons to have heard of Harry and his father's names, they were feared hunters. Though, the masked man did not look or act like a demon.

"Your lord can wait for an eternity if he wants, Selwyn. I'll never hand him over, Diffindo!" James cried as he pointed the stick towards the man, now identified as Selwyn.

A white light shot out of the stick, severing Selwyn's leg.

"I may not be an auror anymore, but you can't underestimate me." James said cockily.

Selwyn smirked at James before responding.

"That's where you're wrong James. You've obviously lost your touch because you're forgetting something about us Death Eaters." He snarled as he clutched his bloody stump.

"What's that? That you're all talk and no action?" James taunted.

"No, that we travel in packs."

As he spoke those words, several figures who wore the exact same clothes as Selwyn emerged from the shadows.

"You see James, we're like a family. When one's down, the others come and help. Where's your family now? Oh that's right, your wife is dead and your son will be too soon." Selwyn jeered whilst wincing in pain.

One of the robed figures stepped closer to James and whispered something which Harry couldn't hear from his hiding place in his father's ear. He had long, platinum blond hair and held an ebony cane. Harry guessed that the man had alerted James of his presence because his head had turned towards the alley instantly.

The blonde man chuckled darkly as he took a rod out of his cane and pressed the tip of it into James' neck. Harry saw the pleading in his father's eyes; he knew that his father wanted him to escape. And that's what he did. He ran. He respected his father's silent wish and left him to die alone.

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When he believed that he was safe, Harry's grief took over. He took off the cloak, slumped down in the secluded walkway and cried for the loss of the only parent he'd ever known. He had a strained, but close relationship with James. He was all he had and now he was gone.

He didn't even bother to think about the battle he had just seen. It seemed like gibberish to him. All that mattered was that he was alone.

He left his dad there like a coward. Harry knew that it was what his father wanted, but he didn't have to comply. He could have fought with him until the end. He didn't deserve to be here. He should be dead. His father gave him the chance to escape, knowing that his own life would be sacrificed.

With new found motivation, Harry scoured Hackney in search of a crossroad. His father wouldn't have wanted him to go through with what he was about to do, but he was selfish. Living without some kind of companionship was something he couldn't deal with.

Having found one near a place called 'Upper Clapton', he set to work on summoning a crossroad demon.

Just as he was about to put the box into the hole he dug, someone grabbed his arm from behind.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Harry."

Harry turned around to face the unknown voice.

It was a dark-haired man wearing a blue tie and a tan trench coat.

"Who the hell are you?!" Harry shouted at the mysterious stranger. He had his fill of enigmatic strangers today.

"My name is Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord."

"Yeah? Well I'm part fairy." He snorted in reply.

"I was not aware that the Potter's descended from the fair folk." Castiel replied with a pensive look on his face.

"I was being sarcastic, I mean you don't expect me to believe that you're an angel, do you?"

Castiel tilted his head in confusion.

"Why would I lie about my duty? I do not understand."

Harry opened a flask of holy water he carried on his person and splashed the contents on Castiel's face. Nothing happened. So I guess he's not a demon then, Harry thought with relief.

He squinted at Castiel, only to have the 'angel' squint back at him with the same amount of enthusiasm. Harry couldn't help but chuckle. With Castiel copying his movements, he reminded him of a kitten or newborn baby.

"So let's say I believe you and won't kill you on the spot. What do angels want with me?"

"We're stopping you from making a huge mistake. A crossroad demon is not the answer. It won't be able to bring back your father because he is neither in heaven or hell." Castiel replied.

"What do you mean? Where is he then?" Harry asked frantically.

He was more than baffled. If his father didn't go to neither hell nor heaven, then where was he? He suspected that it has something to do with his father's attackers.

"You're father wasn't a regular human, he was a wizard. Just like the people who killed him and the man who murdered your mother. When a person has been murdered by the use of magic, they go to purgatory. It's deemed as being worse than getting killed in the first place. It's impossible for a crossroad demon to bring back someone from there." Castiel stated in a very matter-of-fact manner, leaving Harry staring at him with his mouth hung open.