Work Text:
Dear Dean,
We are writing letters for school my teacher said we arent going to send them but I told her that I would send mine to you because I miss you.
Dad didnt find your letter I hid it very good but I think you should tell him that you got put in Hufflepuff.
I think its cool that your in that house.
Hufflepuffs are nice and your nice when your not being a jerkface.
From,
Sammy
xx
Bitchface--
Thanks for not telling dad. I wish you could be here with me because you’d love it. I made some friends and you would like them I think. Charlie is a muggleborn from Gryffindor. She brought all her muggle games with her, even the electronic ones. Garth is nice and Aaron is cool. They’re in Hufflepuff with me. I also made a friend named Castiel, and Gabriel. Castiel is a Ravenclaw and is pretty kind of weird. Gabriel is his cousin and he’s in Slytherin but I don’t hold it against him because he helped me with my Transfiguration homework. It’s kind of like muggle school and kind of not. I still don’t like going to class but I get to do magic sometimes and that’s better than nothing. We have our first flying lesson this afternoon and I might get a mad case of Hershey squirts before I can even get in the air. If you never hear from me again just know I died from embarrassment or by plunging to my doom.
--Jerkface
Castiel was already waiting by the fruit painting when Dean emerged for breakfast that morning. Dean could have found his way to the owlery on his own, but Castiel knew the castle by way of hearsay from his family, and offered to walk with Dean so they wouldn’t be late to Defense.
“I brought you a muffin,” Cas offered, presenting Dean with a pumpkin muffin the size of his face. “I don’t know if you like muffins, but these taste very much like pie, which I know you do like.”
Dean shifted, but accepted the muffin all the same. He couldn’t go to Defense on an empty stomach--Professor Singer said that they’d be doing a practical lesson today, and Dean was a little nervous. Week three and Dean was starting to think that Hogwarts was going to be exactly like muggle school, and he’d just have to come to terms with the fact that he would just never be academically inclined.
“Are you all right?” asked Cas as they ascended a staircase.
“I guess,” Dean shrugged, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. He’d been prepared to leave it at that, but there was something about Cas’ face that made Dean not want to lie to him. “What kinda stuff is there to do for people who aren’t all that smart?”
Castiel cocked his head, “Like, vocationally?”
“Uh,yeah,” Dean nodded. “I know I could do something in the muggle world if I really wanted, but I figure there’s gotta be other wizards and witches that’re, yknow. Dumb.”
“Who’s dumb?” Castiel paused as they came to the door leading out to the owlery.
“Me,” Dean raised his eyebrows. “Duh.”
“Why on earth would you think you’re dumb?” Castiel cocked his head again. From anyone else it would have sounded condescending, but Castiel seemed to lack the ability to talk down to anybody.
“I don’t know,” Dean stared down at his sneakers. “‘cause I’m doing bad in my classes?”
“Dean, it’s week three,” Castiel’s brow furrowed. “How could you possibly know that?”
Dean rolled his eyes and pushed at the heavy wooden door, muttering, “Forget it.”
Between the two of them, they managed to get the door open, and a nice blast of icy wind in their faces waking them all the way up. Dean started walking along the long stone bridge, not waiting for Castiel to catch up.
“Dean!” he heard Castiel shout, his footfalls coming closer and closer until he finally fell back into stride with Dean.
“Dean,” he breathed, the cold wind making it significantly more difficult to catch his breath. “I happen to believe you’re quite smart. And at any rate, you do have to remember that school and intelligence are two different things. If you ask me, education is more the responsibility of the teacher and less the responsibility of the student. A student’s job is to learn, but a teacher’s job is to help students learn--all students. A student can’t learn if a teacher can’t teach.”
Dean stopped again, this time at the foot of the long, winding staircase up to the owlery. Castiel got two steps up before he realized Dean was not with him and turned around. The chilly September wind whipped Castiel’s hair up in all different directions, his blue and bronze scarf covering most of his neck.
“What?”
“Do you hear yourself when you talk?” asked Dean.
“In what capacity?” Castiel frowned.
“You say smart stuff like that,” Dean folded his arms over his chest. “Like, how do you think of that kinda thing?”
Castiel shrugged, “I’m on my own more often than not. My father has an extensive library, so sometimes I would read, other times I would just sit and think.”
“And that’s the kinda think you think about?” Dean asked.
“I think about lots of things,” Castiel shrugged. “I do remember that particular train of thought came during a tutoring session I had with Gabriel. Gabriel is intelligent, but can’t sit still for very long. Our tutor got very frustrated with him and refused to work with him after that lesson, but I remember wondering what on earth possessed that tutor to go into education when he clearly was less interested in educating and more interested in instructing.”
Dean blinked.
“Dang,” he said then, and started to walk up the steps. “Usually when I sit and think it’s about cars and dragons and stuff.”
“Cars?” Castiel’s face lit up, nearly tripping over himself to catch up. “You’ve ridden in a car before?”
“Yeah,” Dean laughed, because who hadn’t?
Maybe a pureblooded eleven-year-old wizard.
Dean spent the rest of their time going up the steps explaining to Castiel the very basics of muggle transportation.
It was by far the most that anyone had ever paid attention to something he’d said.
“Aw, man,” Dean groaned as they stepped inside the high-ceilinged tower and immediately covered his nose. “It smells like owl shit.”
“They’re owls, and that is what they do,” Castiel considered, seemingly unfazed by the smell. “You can use Azrael, if you want. That’s my sister’s owl. She won’t mind.”
Castiel made some sort of signal that sent a sleepy horned owl lazily down to the perch beside them. Dean retrieved the letter to Sam from inside his bag and cautiously extended it toward Azrael. He blinked his big yellow eyes and, Dean swore, scowled.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Castiel gave him a scratch under the chin. “This is my friend Dean. Hold on.”
Castiel opened up his bag and handed Dean a vaguely mouse-shaped thing.
“It’s a treat,” Castiel whispered. “If you give her one, she’ll like you more.”
Oh. Dean hadn’t realized Azrael could be a girl owl. Cautiously, Dean extended his hand and let Azrael snatch the treat from his palm. Once finished, she gave a grateful hoot.
“Good girl,” Castiel beamed.
“How are you so good at everything?” asked Dean, and let Azrael take the letter. “This needs to get to my little brother Sam.”
Another hoot and Azrael spread her wings for takeoff.
Just like that, his letter was en route.
“You should eat your muffin,” said Castiel, and turned to make way back down to the main castle.
Breakfast had only just ended by the time they got down to the third floor. The Defense classroom door was open, though rather than their usual rows of desks, the room had been cleared out, ready for an entire period of spellcasting.
So far, Dean had made an ass out of himself in both Transfiguration and Charms, and Potions too, though that had less to do with spellcasting and more to do with the fact that Bela Talbot was the worst partner in the world.
“Mornin’, boys,” Professor Singer greeted. “Grab your wands and drop your bags along the wall. We’re workin’ with partners today; you two wanna pair up?”
Dean looked over at Castiel, and despite the fact that Castiel knew just how little faith he had in his abilities, said, “I would like Dean to be my partner.”
“Uh,” Dean uttered, the very picture of eloquence. Even if he thought Castiel was crazy, it was still nice to hear. “Yeah, we can be partners.”
As the rest of the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff first years filed in, Dean’s insides twisted. It looked as though they’d be spellcasting in front of each other.
Why hadn’t he just faked sick or something?
“All right, you’ve all got your partners, you’re all lined up,” Professor Singer paced the space between the pairs. “Now, wands out of your hands, Ash.”
A Ravenclaw down at the end of the line set his wand down and held up his hands.
Professor Singer continued, “We’re gonna practice some of our spells that we talked about last class. First, I want you all to repeat after me,” he stopped and enunciated, “Protego.”
The class did so, the word rolling off of Dean’s tongue with about as much ease as he expected.
“Very good,” Professor Singer nodded, “And the purpose of the spell is, Dean?”
Ah, crap.
Protego.
It sounded like the kind of spaghetti sauce you find in the supermarket.
Defense, defense… Protego, prote… protect? Protection?
“Protection?” Dean offered.
“Very good,” Professor Singer nodded. “Five points to Hufflepuff. Protego is our basic shield charm.”
Dean exhaled and looked across to Castiel, who grinned and gave him two thumbs up.
“All right,” Professor Singer continued, “Next, let’s all repeat, Stupefy.”
And after doing so, a Ravenclaw girl’s hand shot up in the air.
“Yes, Cassie?”
“Isn’t it a little irresponsible to have us try to stun our classmates?” she asked. “We could get hurt.”
Professor Singer nodded, “All the more reason to cast a good shield charm, isn’t it?”
Dean tried to bite back his smile.
“All right,” Professor Singer stepped out of the line of fire. “Wands in hands now, let’s practice real quick. Everyone, on my count--one, two, three--Protego.”
Hand clasped tightly around his wand, Dean felt something hum deep within.
Protego.
Protect.
Castiel conjured a shield with little trouble, as did the rest of his classmates, though they didn’t hold for very long.
“Dean,” Professor Singer stopped beside him, allowing the rest of his students to continue practicing. “Are you all right?”
Dean nodded.
“Good,” Professor Singer patted him on the back. “C’mon, now. Let’s give it a shot.”
Dean swallowed, eyes fixed on Castiel and his encouraging smile.
Protect.
“Protego.”
Nothing.
Son of a bitch.
“All right, now, that’s all right,” Professor Singer reassured him. “Sometimes defensive spells are a little tricky. Let’s try it one more time.”
One more time... how was he supposed to try when all he wanted to do was go back to his dorm room and cry?
Man, if dad could see him now. Who knew what he’d do if he found out his son was not only a namby pamby Hufflepuff, but a Hufflepuff that couldn’t even manage a shield charm.
“C’mon, Dean,” Professor Singer encouraged.
Thoughts of John Winchester still in his head, nerves bunching in his gut, Dean cast, “Protego!”
And there was a shield.
“Now that is some good form,” Professor Singer whistled. Dean held it for as long as he could, and eventually dropped his wand back to his side. “All right, we all feel good about that?”
The class murmured their affirmations.
“Then let’s get to practicing our stupefy spells,” Professor Singer indicated Dean’s row, “Let’s have you guys on offense with stupefy, and this row on defense with protego. We’ll practice this way for about ten minutes, then switch.”
Dean sighed. Of course he didn’t get to do the spell he could actually do. Wands at the ready, Dean and Castiel locked eyes. This was Castiel, and at the very least, if he failed miserably, there wouldn’t be any ridicule to follow.
Adding to the cacophony of voices, Dean threw out as best he could, “Stupefy!”
A burst of red shot from his wand and out at Castiel, who managed a strong enough shield that the spell didn’t hit.
Dean found himself grinning from ear to ear.
“That was awesome!”
“Do it again,” Castiel said, a similar smile on his face as well.
So Dean did, and Castiel blocked the spell yet again. For the first time in his life, Dean was sort of starting to feel like a wizard. Back and forth and back and forth, Castiel blocked every single one of Dean’s spells. By the end, they were both giggling like a couple of maniacs.
“All right, let’s switch,” called Professor Singer. Hopefully this would be just as fun the other way around.
Castiel’s first attempt to stun fell flat, fizzling out before it could even reach Dean.
“C’mon, stun me like you mean it!” Dean grinned, riding too high to bother with appropriate classroom behavior.
Castiel just leveled a stare at him, then with considerable force cast, “Stupefy!”
The spell hurdled so fast that Dean had only a split second to react, casting a “Protego” so powerful that it reflected Castiel’s spell back to him. And so Castiel cast another protective charm. It didn't make it back to Dean, the jinx now having lost enough of its power to fizzle out once it hit Castiel's shield.
It wasn’t until they heard Aaron very distinctly say, “Holy shit”, that they realized they’d gotten the attention of the entire class, Professor Singer included.
“Well, I think you both earned yourself ten house points each,” said Professor Singer. Was that awe Dean was hearing? “Congratulations boys, you just learned how to duel.”
It was the first time Dean had ever had such a sentiment directed at him so sincerely, and damn it, he did not want it to be the last.
oo
The afternoon came far too soon.
Gabriel managed to distract him through Potions, the two of them getting caught up in an epic game of hangman while Professor Sands went through the twelve different uses of dragon’s blood. He could always ask to see Castiel’s notes about it later.
But class came to an end, and Dean had to make the long walk out to the training grounds with Garth and Aaron, as well as the Hufflepuff girls from their year, Rachel and Becky. Out of anyone, Aaron seemed to be the most excited.
“How are you guys not flipping out!” Aaron turned to walk backwards in front of them. “This is like the coolest thing ever. This is like the best thing we get to learn in this place.”
“Did someone put crack in your pumpkin juice?” Dean asked.
“We’re gonna learn how to fly, Dean,” Aaron explained, as though Dean wasn’t even familiar with the concept. “I didn’t even know that was possible until a couple months ago!”
Down at the training field, most of the Ravenclaws had already arrived, including Castiel. After Defense, Dean had been kind of sad that he didn’t have Castiel in any of his other classes that day. He was pretty sure that Castiel made him less nervous, and that would have been great to have had today.
There were two rows of broomsticks laid out on the ground, and that was when Dean’s palms started to sweat. He knew that flying was a rudimentary skill for witches and wizards, and hey, Quidditch was pretty cool, but there was nothing on this or any other planet that could make flying any less terrifying.
“It’s hot out here,” said Dean as he dropped his bag behind his broom. “It’s hot, right?”
He unsnappped the front of his cloak and shrugged it off. That was a little better, but nowhere near ideal.
“Uh, Dean?” Garth asked.
“What,” Dean snapped, only to rescind it a second later.
“Dude, do you not want to fly?” Aaron’s eyes widened.
“If I was supposed to fly I woulda been born with wings!” Dean insisted and crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn’t look at anyone, not even Castiel. It was like he’d only had a good morning just so he could have just as crappy an afternoon.
“Well, I’m sure Professor Baum will let you sit out,” Garth offered.
“No way!” Dean exclaimed. “I’m not a baby, okay? I can do it, and I’m gonna do it.”
He shifted back and forth on his feet, “I just don’t wanna do it yet.”
“Anna said we won’t even do anything scary today,” Castiel tried to placate, but that only made Dean’s stomach hurt more.
“Your sister’s on the quidditch team!” he pointed out. “That’s like an expert scuba diver telling someone who can’t swim that the water’s not scary!”
It was a few moments before Castiel asked, “What’s a scuba?”
Dean groaned and, in an admittedly dramatic display, flopped down onto the grass and looked up at the crystal blue afternoon sky. Couldn’t he just get through one day without being a friggin’ wuss about everything?
“Good afternoon, everyone,” Professor Baum greeted them all. “Dean, do you plan on joining us any time soon?”
Dean grumbled and sat up, grass stuck all to his sweater and his slacks. He’d only just gotten to brush himself off when a hand appeared before him. Castiel too had shucked his cloak, and now was offering to help Dean to his feet.
Was Castiel even real? Nobody, not even Garth, had ever been as nice to him as Castiel has been since day one.
Castiel had a firm grip, too, especially for someone who spent most of his childhood thinking in a library.
Professor Baum went through the basics of flight and safety, though most of it was lost on her eager students. When it came time to actually summon and mount their brooms (and of course Dean and Aaron broke out into a fit of giggles when Professor Baum said ‘mount’) Dean’s armpits started to sweat profusely.
“Kick off, hover, and then come right back down,” came the final instruction. When her whistle blew, a good half of her students were able to rise without a problem. Aaron hovered a little too high, and Professor Baum had to pull him back down by the ankle, while Castiel seemed to do it with practiced grace.
“You’ve flown before?” asked Dean.
“Of course,” Castiel’s brows pinched. “It’s not too difficult. I can make sure you don’t fall.”
“Yeah, and if you do, we can just conjure you up a bunch of pillows to fall on,” Aaron suggested, right as Garth lost his balance and ended up hanging like a sloth from the handle of his broom.
“I’m gonna be sick,” Dean announced.
“Dean, he fell because he’s a twigman--”
“Twigperson,” Garth corrected as he attempted to right himself.
“Nice and easy,” Castiel encouraged.
“Like you’re skippin’ rope,” Garth offered.
“Like you’re about to launch yourself into the air,” Aaron teased, only for Garth to poke him on the thigh.
With one last look up at Castiel, Dean swallowed his nerves and rose up to his tiptoes.
He tried not to panic as soon as he felt his feet leave the ground. This was a calm, controlled setting, and most everyone was in the same position he was. Whether or not heights made anyone else break out into stress hives, Dean couldn’t say.
“You did it!” Castiel beamed, the effect of which made Dean wobble on his handle.
He didn’t care if the answer was ‘magic’, that was not a good enough explanation of how in the hell this thing was holding him up.
They repeated this agonizing process five times before Professor Baum waved her wand and sent giant, multi-colored rings into the air just above the field.
“If you’re still uncomfortable, you’re more than welcome to sit out,” she said, at which point Dean made a hasty dart over to where Chuck Shurley had already parked himself on the grass. At that point he didn’t care if he looked like a total ‘fraidy cat, just that his butt was planted firmly on the ground.
Aaron actually appeared to have a natural feel for flying, as he was one of the only students to make it through all of the rings on their first try. Castiel was, of course, one of the others who could boast the same. It looked like he had good command over the broom, from what little Dean knew about flying.
Even after Professor Baum dismissed them for the day, she let Castiel and Aaron keep flying while she packed away the rest of the brooms. Dean and Garth, both on solid ground now, shielded their eyes against the sun as they looked up.
“Man, Dean, this is so cool!”
“That’s great,” Dean nodded, “Super happy for you.”
Garth chuckled, while Dean found himself focusing then on the easy way Castiel flew upside down. When Professor Baum opened up the equipment room, Castiel zipped right up to her.
“Can we play with a spare quaffle?” he asked. Professor Baum gave him a once-over, laughed, and tossed a worn out red ball right to Castiel.
He caught it, which was more than Dean could say about his own abilities, or what his abilities might be once he actually tried.
Castiel then flew back over to Aaron, and asked, “Do you like quidditch?”
“What?”
“Quidditch,” Dean explained. “It’s a sport. Involves lots of flying balls.”
“Easy, Winchester,” Professor Baum warned.
“Sorry, ma’am.”
Castiel and Aaron tossed the quaffle between the two of them for a few minutes, and as soon as Aaron got the hang of it, they started flying and tossing. It was a little like watching flag football.
Just, up in the air.
And not like football at all, really.
“All right, down you get,” Professor Baum blew her whistle. “It’s almost dinnertime anyway.”
Grudgingly, Castiel and Aaron both touched down and surrendered both brooms and quaffle. Professor Baum reassured, “There’s plenty of that later in the year, don’t worry.”
All through dinner, Aaron would not shut up about flying. He and Garth let Castiel and Dean explain the basics of quidditch, but for the most part he grilled Castiel about every aspect of flight that he could.
Rather than head back to the common room for more jabbering, Dean opted to go to the library instead.
“Would you like company?” asked Castiel. “I can help you with your Charms homework, if you want.”
Dean smiled, “Thanks, Cas.”
He swore he saw Castiel blush.
oo
Gabriel snatched Castiel before breakfast one Saturday morning. Castiel hadn’t even planned on changing out of his pajamas that day, content to just walk down to breakfast with his robe shielding his inappropriate attire before he retired to his bed and read all day. It had been too long since it had just been him.
But then of course Gabriel had to take Castiel’s nice plans and smash them to smithereens.
“The psycho pride is expecting us to have breakfast with them,” Gabriel explained, pushing his way into the Ravenclaw common room before the door could close. A couple of their peers startled at his presence, and balked when they saw him with Castiel.
Already Gabriel’s reputation preceded him, and only a month into school too. That had to have been a family record.
He tailed Castiel the entire time he changed. He opted for a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.
He knew Gabriel disliked family affairs, but Castiel had not been to enough of them to have any sort of opinion. He just knew that this morning, they would be dining at the Gryffindor table.
The Miltons were not an affectionate people. While brash and charming, and very dedicated allies, physical pleasantries outside of shaking hands were viewed as… lesser.
Not bad.
Just lesser.
Which is why, when Gabriel and Castiel approached their family, they immediately sat. Castiel was glad he was making friends who were okay with hugs. He wasn’t used to hugs yet, but he had gone from not understanding why someone would squeeze his body against theirs to being relatively fond of it.
Raphael, Michael, and Lucifer all sat on one side, looking over Castiel and Gabriel very closely--well, looking over Gabriel, mostly. Castiel was in the middle, between his cousin and his big sister.
“How are you, Castiel?” Anna smiled.
“I’m well,” he replied.
“Are you enjoying Ravenclaw?”
“I suppose,” Castiel shrugged and grabbed a muffin from the center of the table. In his own peculiar habit, he started picking at it and eating, piece by piece. He tried not to hear the conversation that was going on beside them.
“I like it there, people are nicer to me,” said Gabriel, and then reconsidered, “Okay, people aren’t nicer to me, but I do like it.”
“You were up there for a long time,” Michael pointed out. “Did you ask the hat to put you in Slytherin?”
“No!” Gabriel exclaimed. “Guys, I was as surprised as you were, but… I don’t know, I didn’t ask it for anything. It just took its sweet-ass time.”
He shoved a whole half a slice of toast and jam in his mouth and chewed.
“I think it’s rad,” Lucifer shrugged, earning him a look from Michael. “What? He likes it there, so who cares? At least he’s not a Hufflepuff, for shit’s sake.”
Gabriel stuffed the other half of his toast into his mouth.
“My new friends are Hufflepuffs,” Castiel didn’t mind telling them. It got the attention off of Gabriel, at least. “Gabriel is friends with them too. We like them.”
Lucifer lets out a laugh, “Yeah, they’re real winners, aren’t they?”
Castiel and Gabriel turn around to see Dean pressing two grapefruit halves to his chest, and for Aaron to look over only to spray pumpkin juice all over the table, choking with laughter.
“Oo-hoo, boy,” Gabriel hissed. “Not their finest hour.”
“Is he making that kid motorboat him?” asked Lucifer, chuckling as Dean shoved the grapefruits in Aaron’s face. “Never mind, I kinda like that one.”
“That’s Dean,” said Castiel.
“He’s the one you were with that first night,” Michael snapped his fingers, finally placing Dean’s face. “Castiel, those are… definitely not the types of people you should be associating yourself with.”
“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” Lucifer agreed. “Those are the kind of people you keep around so you have someone to throw out as bait when all hell breaks loose.”
“No,” Castiel frowned. “I wouldn’t use him for bait.”
“Those aren’t the types of people that Miltons align themselves with,” Michael attempted, very plainly, to explain once more. “There are certain expectations that come with being a Milton that you’re--”
“I’m not a Milton,” Castiel argued back, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He was edging on dangerous territory. Luckily, Anna stepped in before the electric charge on Castiel’s skin could turn into something more.
“I thought you called them here for a family breakfast,” she said. “Had I known you were just going to read them the riot act about their behavior, I would’ve told them not to bother. Can we please all have breakfast like normal people?”
“Anna, this is none of your--”
Michael cut himself off when Anna smacked her wand down onto the table, well within reach for a lightning quick cast.
“I’ll take away house points,” Michael warned.
“You can’t do that,” Lucifer scoffed and gulped back more of his coffee.
“I’ll write you up for detention.”
“Do it,” Anna shrugged, going back to eating her eggs in a relatively upbeat manner. “Because if you hound them one more time, I will hex you into next week, you arrogant little prick.”
Lucifer spat his whole mouthful of coffee back into his cup; Gabriel bit his lips shut and averted his eyes to the cloudy ceiling above.
To her credit, though, it did get Michael to shut up and eat his breakfast. There was more talk of quidditch, and Michael grumbling about his NEWT level classes, but for the most part Castiel and Gabriel were allowed to remain silent.
“All right, losers,” Lucifer pushed away his plate and drained the rest of his coffee. “C’mon, we’ve got practice.” Castiel realized then just how many Miltons were on the Gryffindor quidditch team. Both Anna and Raphael made chaser last year, which had been exciting, while Michael and Lucifer had been The Unbeatable Beaters going on four years.
Different though they were, Michael and Lucifer did have the uncanny ability to read one another. Castiel often forgot that they were not twins, even though they looked nothing alike. Short of being skilled legilimens there was really no other explanation.
Though breakfast ended cordially, it still left Castiel feeling itchy just under his skin. Before Castiel could excuse himself to go start his homework, however, Charlie Bradbury plopped down right in front of them.
“To what do we owe the pleasure?” she greeted through a smile.
“Douchebags, Incorporated,” was all that Gabriel needed to say.
“Dang, that sucks,” she whistled. “Lisa, Tracy, and I are gonna go explore today. Do you guys wanna come?”
“Explore what?” asked Castiel.
Charlie shrugged, “Don’t know. That’s why it needs exploring. Hang on, I’m gonna go see if the Jigglypuffs wanna come too.”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow, watching as Charlie darted across the hall.
“What the hell is a Jigglypuff?” he asked.
“I’ll ask Dean,” Castiel reassured, and made a mental note to do so.
“Forget it,” Gabriel sighed and stood. “I’m gonna go back to my room.”
Gabriel got a good ways away before Castiel could catch up to him, and even then he wouldn’t talk. Castiel tried, but it ended with him following Gabriel down to the dungeons toward the Slytherin dorms.
Only, as soon as they rounded a particular corner, they nearly ran smack into the head of Slytherin house.
Professor Crowley, Charms teacher and all manner of strange, gave them both what felt to Castiel like a disingenuous smile.
“Gabriel,” he greeted. “And Castiel, so nice to see you both up and about so early on a Saturday. When Balthazar had told me you were already at breakfast I thought he might have been covering up a more dastardly operation. Quite a disappointment to see I was wrong, I must say.”
Gabriel sighed and looked up at the ceiling.
“So you do recall that you were to meet with me,” said Professor Crowley. “That’s good, as memory charms are among my least favorite to perform. Shall we adjourn to my office, then?”
Gabriel nodded and looked back at Castiel.
“Sorry,” was all he said before he followed Professor Crowley up the stairs, back to the main level of the castle.
Dejected, Castiel trudged back up the stairs, ready to do as he’d initially planned and read the day away. He was barely to the Grand Staircase when he felt a hand on his shoulder. What should have been a happy hello turned into Castiel startling and, unfortunately, smacking Dean in the nose.
“Holy shit!”
Oh, no. No, no, what if Dean got angry after this? He had every right to, judging by the stream of red now pouring out of his nose.
“I’m sorry,” Castiel apologized, and did so over and over until he found something to staunch the flow of blood. That something just so happened to be the hem of his robe, which he bunched up and shoved against Dean’s face.
“You snuck up on me, I’m sorry!” Castiel tried to explain.
“It’s fine,” came Dean’s muffled reply. “I don’t think it’s broken.”
“Do you want to go to the hospital wing?” Castiel asked, but Dean pulled away and shook his head.
“Not the first time I been smacked in the nose,” said Dean, tilting his head back just to make sure the blood was slowing down. “Charlie said you were gonna come explore with us, but then you were gone.”
“Oh,” Castiel looked down.
“You got a pretty mean swing,” Dean finally put his head right. Aside from a couple streaks of blood and some irritation, he looked fine.
"As little as I saw of my cousins, growing up with them did propagate the need to develop certain defensive tactics."
Dean frowned, "Huh?"
So, Castiel explained, "Gabriel and Lucifer like to jump out and scare people."
"Oh," Dean nodded."Was that who you were eating with today?"
Castiel swallowed. Had Dean really noticed his absence?
"Yes," he finally blurted. "I didn't want to, but Gabriel dragged me."
“Oh, good,” Dean breathed a sigh of relief. “So you don’t think I’m too weird to hang with or anything?”
Castiel cocked his head, “How are you weird?”
Dean gnawed at his lower lip, which led Castiel to believe that he didn’t have a very good answer. So, he continued, “Even if you are weird, so am I. We can be weird together.”
Whatever that meant to Dean, it made him smile.
“Never had another weird friend before,” he said.
“Garth and Aaron are weird,” Castiel pointed out.
“Yeah, but,” Dean shifted. “I guess I mean I never picked a friend who was weird, y’know? Garth and Aaron are my friends but not like you’re my friend. It’s different.”
Castiel wasn’t sure that he understood the sentiment entirely, but it ended with him being special to Dean, and that was a very, very nice thing to know.