Chapter Text
Dean Winchester had always prided himself on being a skilled witch. Well, claimed might be the better word. In a world where magic was as common as smartphones, you'd think he’d have mastered his craft by now. Yet, for some reason, Dean’s spells had an annoying habit of going hilariously wrong. His most loyal—and snarkiest—companion, Castiel, would say it was the universe’s way of keeping Dean humble.
Their home wasn’t a typical witch’s cottage but a modern house in the suburbs. Sure, there were cauldrons bubbling on the kitchen counters and shelves crammed with herbs and potions, but Dean tried to keep things as normal as possible. On any given day, Castiel, his familiar, sat on the windowsill in his cat form, his paws crossed and a permanent scowl on his feline face. Castiel was bound to Dean, which meant he had to endure Dean’s magical mishaps on a daily basis. Today was no exception.
“You know this is going to end badly,” Castiel spoke as he turned into his human form, watching Dean intently as he stirred a bubbling potion. He stood tall, with tousled dark hair framing his face and intense blue eyes that held an air of determination. His sharp jawline was accentuated by the faint stubble that suggested he’d been too busy to shave. He wore a fitted black t-shirt that showcased his lean physique, paired with dark jeans that hugged his legs comfortably. A worn leather coat hung open over his shirt, giving him a rugged charm. As he crossed his arms, the coat’s sleeves fell slightly back, revealing the intricate tattoos that adorned his forearms—each marking telling a story of his adventures and mischief.
“It’s just a luck potion, Cas,” Dean replied with his trademark confidence, adding a dash of crushed bay leaves to the mix. “Nothing can go wrong.”
Castiel arched a brow, crossing his arms even tighter. “The last time you said that, you turned Sam into a goldfish. For a week.”
Dean waved him off. “It’s all part of the learning process. Besides, I got Sam back to normal eventually.”
Castiel sighed, unconvinced. He stepped down from the windowsill and leaned closer to the cauldron. “If you’re not careful, one of these days your spells will—”
Dean cut him off by lifting a spoonful of the bright green potion, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. “Here goes nothing!”
Before Castiel could stop him, Dean swallowed the potion in one go. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Dean turned to Castiel with a self-satisfied smirk.
“See? No explosions. No side effects. I’m finally—”
A soft shimmering glow enveloped Dean, and before he could finish his sentence, he was gone. Well, mostly. In his place was a small, croaking frog, blinking up at Castiel from the floor.
Castiel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course,” he muttered. “Now you’re a frog.”
Dean, now a tiny chibi frog, hopped frantically around the kitchen, knocking over jars and scattering herbs everywhere. He leaped onto the counter, croaking in protest.
Castiel sighed, rolling his eyes. “Calm down, Dean,” he said, unimpressed by the chaos. “At least you’re not a goldfish this time. Progress, I suppose.”
Dean croaked louder, flailing his little limbs in frustration.
“Alright, alright.” Castiel bent down, picking up frog Dean with two fingers and gently tucking him into the inner pocket of his coat. “I’ll fix you. But first, I need to get groceries. You’re coming with me.”
Dean croaked indignantly but had no choice in the matter as Castiel grabbed his keys and headed out the door.
At the grocery store, Castiel strode through the aisles, picking up fruits, vegetables, and various essentials. Frog Dean squirmed inside his coat pocket, occasionally poking his head out. Castiel ignored him.
It wasn’t long before other shoppers started noticing the adorable chibi frog sticking out of Castiel’s coat. A little girl tugged on her mother’s sleeve, pointing. “Look, Mommy! That man has a cute frog!”
Before Castiel could react, a small crowd gathered around, fawning over the tiny amphibian. A middle-aged woman gushed, “Oh, how sweet! Is he your pet?”
Castiel’s scowl deepened. “Something like that.”
“Can I pet him?” another woman asked.
Dean croaked nervously, retreating back into Castiel’s pocket.
“He’s not very fond of strangers,” Castiel muttered, trying to edge his way out of the crowd.
“Aww, he’s shy!” someone cooed.
Castiel sighed, quickly grabbing the last few items on his list before making a beeline for the checkout. As he stood in line, frog Dean peeked out again, glaring up at him with an unmistakable expression of this is all your fault.
“I’m not the one who drank a questionable potion,” Castiel whispered down at him, earning a croak of annoyance.
Back at home, Castiel carefully placed the grocery bags on the counter before taking Dean out of his pocket. He set the tiny frog down on the kitchen table, staring at him with a look of tired exasperation.
“Alright, let’s get you back to normal.” Castiel muttered a few words in Latin, and with a soft pop, Dean was back to his human form—disheveled and sitting awkwardly on the table.
Dean rubbed his head, groaning. “I really thought I had it this time.”
“Clearly,” Castiel deadpanned, grabbing a towel to wipe up some spilled potion.
Dean stood up, brushing himself off. “Next time, I’ll get it right.”
“I’m sure,” Castiel said, walking towards the living room. “Just try not to turn yourself into anything else in the meantime.”
Suddenly, a bright shimmering light flickered from the next room, followed by a loud crackling sound. Castiel froze, feeling the distinct pulse of magic in the air.
He spun around, eyes narrowing. “Dean! What did you do now?”
Dean blinked, wide-eyed. “Uh... I didn’t do anything… this time.”
But the strange light continued to flicker from the other room, and the crackling sound grew louder, filling the air with a sense of something... off. Castiel took a step forward, his expression darkening.
“Stay here,” he muttered to Dean, moving cautiously toward the source of the disturbance, his senses alert. Whatever was happening, it wasn't just one of Dean's usual blunders.
Something bigger was coming.