"Y'know, I have to say that if you had told me when you were first born that I would go on to be the godparent of your child, well, I would have laughed," Death grinned, before handing over a box. In it was a large throw blanket hand knitted by a woman in the depths of South America, enchanted by a witch doctor, and Death herself, to keep the supernatural away while he slept. "Not as permanent as an anti-possession tattoo or anything Harry has done, but it'll be my contribution to his safety."
Dean reached out and took the gift. "Y'know, I don't think Harry knows how to do any sort of anti-possession somethin'. That takes focus, have you seen him? Shine a light by him one day, he'll go chasin' after it," he chuckled. "Thank you, y'know, not just for this but for bein' his godmom, kid needs someone lookin' after him. I think he's got the wanderlust worse than I ever did... do."
