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hells_half_acreRead the chapter first
On the way home, Harry decided to give traditional tourism one more chance. They crossed Tower Bridge and made their way over to The Globe Theatre.
Harry figured this was more just for Hermione, who never has much of an excuse to be a tourist in her own country – so it surprised him when Dean suddenly said, “a pox on both your houses!” with a nostalgic smile.
“What was that?” Sam laughed and looks at Dean like he’s a stranger.
“It’s from Romeo and Juliet,” Hermione all but squealed, “Mercutio.”
“I repeat,” Sam said, ignoring Hermione and looking at Dean, “What was that? Romeo and Juliet? Never pegged you for a fan”
“’m not” Dean answered, but looked slightly embarrassed. “Fuckin’ hate that damn play. Mercutio was the only one with any damn sense – then Romeo goes and gets him killed over some girl. Man, Romeo deserved to have his house cursed.”
“When did you even-“ Sam started to ask, more subdued and no longer smiling.
“I went to high school too, Sam – and the way we moved around...covered that damn play more than once” Dean answered. “Always thought the stage would be bigger, though”
“I always liked Hamlet,” Sam suddenly admitted.
“Yeah, you would” Dean answered, punching Sam in the shoulder.
“I have got to read more,” Ron suddenly muttered in Harry’s ear. “I feel like I’m missing whole conversations, and I can’t even blame it on that weird psychic-link those two had back in the Tower of London.”
Harry hummed his agreement, then pulled the Winchesters out of the theatre when he noticed them once again watching the people more than they were looking at the building.
