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Mad Season

Chapter Text



The plan worked – the archangels Michael and Lucifer tripping into the cage in hell, their borrowed faces showing their shock at the outcome neither had thought of. The cage slammed shut, the earth shuddered, and there was a bright flash of light…….

“BANG,” the sound distracted Harry momentarily from the dementor bearing down on him. Concentration lost, the silver wisp of his patronus flicked out, and the creeping cold seared its way deeper into his chest. Lily Potter’s screams echoed in Harry’s ears…




The Impala landed with a thump on the damp Surrey street, not that the occupants of the vehicle knew their location. There was a moment of stunned silence before the world rushed forwards into sound and movement.

Dean Winchester did what a well-trained hunter should, and ignored the fact that he had somehow ended up in the driver’s seat of his car when last he remembered he had just seen Lucifer and Michael taking a nosedive into Hell- There was an oogie-boogie in his sight that seemed intent on munching a weakly struggling kid. He opened the door, grabbed a gun from his waistband and shot the creature, exploding its head in a bloom of greyish goop.

Gabriel gasped, realised he was actually breathing and exclaimed “I’m Alive!” delightedly. Noticing the person on whose lap he materialised, the archangel shouted “Sammy!” and planted a great big smooch on the stunned-silly hunter’s lips. Gabriel opened the Impala door and leaped out, standing right on top of a second, half-crushed dementor.

Castiel blinked startling blue eyes at his new surroundings.
“There is a hell hound on my lap.” He stated, actually displaying his surprise. “Yours too.” He added to Bobby Singer, squashed underneath the hind end of said hellhound, with the angel pressed into his right hand side, with Crowley on his left.

“Let me outta this car, you idjits.” The older human snapped, motivating Sam Winchester to finally exit the car and open the closest rear door.


By this time, not-quite-15-year-old Harry Potter had levered himself off the ground and approached the strange group now gathered around the black vehicle.

“What the heck did I just step in?” The shorter blonde man with golden hued wings was heard asking.
The taller, darker blonde who had just wasted a dementor with muggle weaponry, picked up a note folded neatly under the Impala’s windshield wiper and quickly read it.
The visually oldest man grumbled, while his sharp eyes took in his surroundings.
A tall, dark winged man stood perfectly still on the pavement, head tilted to one side as though listening carefully, and the final man from the rear of the car gingerly prodded at his new set of horns.  

The large hellhound merely sniffed around a little before taking a leak.

Dudley Dursley had run home as fast as his chubby body would allow at his first glimpse of people with wings after an entire car had fallen from the sky and nearly squashed him. Luckily, as an ordinary muggle, the boy was spared the vision of the dementor that the car had squashed. 

“Hey kid,” the tallest of the group called to the approaching wizard, “What are these things?” He gestured to the dead dementor at his feet. “And why were they after you and that other kid?” The other hunters, angels and a demon turned to the boy. 

“Dementors from Azkaban.” Harry answered slowly. “Shouldn’t you already know this?”

“Why would know about these things. We just got here.” Crowley sneered, looking over the deceased creature in distaste. It was now leaking some undefinable greyish green liquid onto the pavement.

“Those two have wings, you came out of a car that just fell out of the sky, and you’re even British. How can you not know what a dementor is?” The teenager snapped incredulously, eyebrows raising and wand still held tightly in hand.

While these people had saved Harry and his cousin from the dementors, the group was rather odd, even by wizarding world standards. Really, they could be in league with Voldemort for all Harry new.

“I came from Scotland actually.” Crowley corrected’ “The accent just got a little muddled over the years.”

“Guys,” Dean interrupted. “This says, ‘you now all have human souls. Thanks for saving the world. Love God.’.” He read off the paper, “Where the hell are we anyway?”

“Ceridwen’s realm.” Castiel answered immediately. Gabriel stopped trying to scrape dementor innards off the bottom of his shoe to assume the ‘angelic listening pose’.

“Huh. We are too.” He agreed with his younger sibling.

“You guys get Angel Radio in another realm?” Sam enquired.

“Nope.” The archangel replied. “Just listening in on ol’ Mother Magic. Similar frequency.”  The blonde man clicked his fingers to materialise a candy bar, and ended up holding a banana. He stared at the fruit curiously.

Multiple pops surrounded the gathering in the alleyway. The hunters raised a surprising array of weaponry including Bobby’s sawn-off shotgun that no one could figure how or where he’d been hiding it. Harry, still on high alert, raised his wand flicking his gaze from one target to the next.

“Gabriel, what’s a banana going to do?” Cut through the standoff. Said archangel shrugged at being called out on his lack of useful weaponry, and handed the fruit to a, yet again confused, Castiel.

“Dimensional travellers, I am Unspeakable Vortens from the British Ministry of Magic, representing the Department of Mysteries. The energy from your arrival was picked up on our equipment. We are here to escort you to the Ministry so your presence in this dimension can be properly recorded and monitored.” A grey robed woman with severe features addressed the group. “Mr Potter, as witness, your presence is required as well.”

“What’s with the Aurors?” Harry asked, keeping his wand raised defiantly, “Are you arresting us?” The red robed law enforcers remained on guard. A tall dark-skinned auror lowered his wand to appease the uptight teen.

“Security in case the dimensionally displaced are hostile.” His voice deep and calming. Reluctantly Harry nodded, tucking his wand back into his back pocket. A number of Aurors flinched or cringed at the action, but none offered explanation.

In a flurry of movement, explanations, threats, people shuffling and a small argument about Dean’s car, the gathering of 3 hunters, 2 angels, a demon, his hellhound and 1 teenaged wizard were safely ensconced in an interview room deep inside the Department of Mysteries.



Tell me what you think. I have no idea where exactly I'm going with this, but I am writing at least 500 words every day (Last I checked there was still a real world out there to deal with), so expect a new short chapter every 2-3 days.
Ta, Vengeance.     

Chapter Text




“Name?” The strangely chipper Ministry paper-pusher asked on one Bobby Singer, the one dimension traveller unlucky enough to be selected first.

“Age in home dimension?” was followed by a request to hold a rock in one hand, and a twig with live leaves in the other.

“What’s that stuff supposed to do?” Dean asked, trying not to laugh at Bobby when he would have to do the exact same thing in a matter of minutes.

“Determining species.” The woman chirped with an excited grin and hand-clap. “Some magical races have movement restrictions or Ministry run support services.”

Bobby tried not to be overly disturbed by the strange woman. The building they had just walked through was full to bursting with strange, and there sure had been better things to be disturbed by.  Like the twig leaping out of Bobby’s hand to fill out a section of the parchment on its own, draining the colour to write with from the rock still in the man’s other hand. He was left holding what looked like a lump of roughened, clear glass.
That went unnoticed, however, as all attention was diverted to the argument that had sprung up between Harry, an Unspeakable and his own assigned Ministry representative.

“What do you mean, they’re my responsibility?” The young wizard shouted, his patience with bureaucracy having run out. “I didn’t summon them! They actually nearly squashed my muggle cousin with their car!”

“The fact that the travellers arrived in time to rescue yourself from mortal peril is deemed a matter of No Coincidence by both the Ministry and international Wizarding law as laid down by the ICW in 1557. In the case of ‘No Coincidence’ the Dimensionally Displaced are assumed to have been placed where and when they were by divine action. This divine action resulted in the Displaced being the immediate vicinity of yourself; therefore the individuals’ further integration rests with you.” The Ministry man paraphrased from the large law book in his hands.

“I’m still fourteen! Doesn’t the Ministry have to do something in the case of minors?”

“If they had been arrived in the Ministry, then it would be a Ministry problem. As that’s not the case, they’re your responsibility from completion of registration. Obviously, the Lady Magic placed these… people before you for a reason. Good day Mr Potter.” The man snapped his book shut and turned briskly away.

“Aaaarrrrgh!” The teenaged wizard screamed his frustration. A wave of angry magic radiated from the youth, and all enchantments in the near area immediately failed.
The ministry lackey’s bald spot and stained shirt became visible; the illusion over a glass panel in the side wall dropped, exposing a gathering of Unspeakables peering in the room; and both Crowley and Sam’s chairs vanished, dumping their previous occupants onto the floor.

“Bollocks!” The demon’s voice floated from under the table. Gabriel cracked up laughing. Dean snickered at his brother’s plight.

The young man was soon reminded of his own problems when he was called upon to swap positions with Bobby. In the ensuing game of musical chairs two new seats were summoned to replace those that were vanished and an extra was drawn up next to the Registry official for Harry, who slumped into it in a resigned fashion.

The questioning of Dean Winchester went as expected until they reached the ‘Species’ section, where Dean actually heard the witch read out, “Species: Human. Sub-species: Squib.”

“What?” The man reared back, insulted that the woman was calling his something that sounded like ‘squid’.

“Squib – a human with magic present in their blood, but not at a high enough level to affect their surroundings.” Was the overly-cheerful explanation. “You are able to see creatures like dementors and thestrals, gain entry into areas warded against muggles, non-magical people, and possibly enjoy a faster healing rate, compared to a muggle that is.”

“Oh.” Mollified, and in general a little overwhelmed, Dean exchanged positions with Sam.
Sam who was revealed to be a very low powered wizard through faint demonic ancestry. The tall hunter cringed when that anomaly was brought up. Seems all the demon blood fed to him over the years had had an effect on his DNA.

“Name?” Was asked of the next contender, a rather smart-mouthed demon.

“Crowley.” He drawled.

“Hey isn’t your first name,” Gabriel tried to interrupt.

“No.” Was snarled with a red-eyed glare. “Just, Crowley.”

“Alright.” The woman allowed, “And your age?”

“Four hundred and seventeen standard earth years.” The man grudgingly replied. The Registry official didn’t even blink, just continued smiling inanely and handed over the twig-and-rock combo again.

“Genus: Demonae. Species: Unspecified. Well aren’t you just a man of mystery.” The witch actually leered. “I was kind of betting on incubus, with those sleek horns.”

Crowley grimaced and manfully ran away, forcefully ejecting Gabriel from his chair furthest away.

“Name?” Was again requested, after the woman got over her despondency at Crowley’s brisk retreat.


“No it’s not.” Sam and Dean argued in sync.

“Fine. It’s Gabriel.” The archangel admitted. The demon in the room snorted, “I always knew you were an angel, I just didn’t realise you were that angel.”

“How did you know?” the blonde demanded.

“Apparently, angels can’t fully control their grace during orgasm.” Crowley smirked superiorly. A few wide eyed glances were exchanged at that little bombshell.

“Wait, doesn’t Angelic Grace hurt demons?” Sam enquired, ever curious.

“There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain, love.” Came the leering reply. Harry blushed madly at the mental imagery of the smartly dressed demon debauching the golden angel.

“Age in home dimension?” Was squeaked, bringing the conversation back to order.

“The age of the created universe minus four days.” Everyone stared, yet again.

“How about ‘Unknown’, with ‘Physical appearance early 30’s’?” The official suggested. Gabriel shrugged and nodded agreeably.

“Annnd, Genus: Fae. Species: Angelus.” She read, “Can’t say anyone’s ever come across one of your kind before. How exciting, I’m taking record of a whole new species!”

Castiel came forward for his turn without prompting, and answered the age question with a succinct “I am not entirely sure. I am a few millennia younger than Gabriel, though.”, thus having the least problematic registration after Bobby.

A round of identification photos were taken, including one of Crowley’s hellhound, before the group was herded out of the Department of Mysteries and finally sent on their way.




I was having trouble spelling 'bureaucracy' while writing this, so shortened it to how thought 'bureaucrat' might be spelled to try to get a suggested spelling. My spellcheck suggested 'Bearcat'. I'm not sure why I find that quite so funny. 

Thanks for reading, 


Chapter Text


Harry had no idea what to do now. He’d just had six people and one very large canine dumped on him, both physically and metaphorically speaking, and had nowhere to take them for tonight, not to mention the rest of their ‘integration’, which he was supposedly responsible for. Seriously, Harry didn’t know how to really look after himself outside of Hogwarts and surviving the Dursleys, and he was so not taking this lot back there. 

He was just meandering across the ministry atrium, trying to decide where to go, and how to get there, when the teen literally ran nose first into the chest of a debonair, older gentleman. This was rather odd, as it was getting quite late into the night, so there weren’t many people around to begin with. Those that were, were dressed in their Ministry uniform robes, not dark coloured muggle business attire.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” Harry apologised, sketching a rough bow. 
If there was one thing Harry had learned so far in the wizarding world, it was to always trust his magic, even when he couldn’t trust anyone else; especially when he couldn’t trust anyone else. If his magic said to show great respect to the incredibly powerful being in front of him, he was going to listen.

“Death.” Dean greeted the entity the teen had just bumped into. “What are you doing here?”

“I am Death. I am everywhere.” Came the unamused response.

As though those words were a secret passphrase, Ministry night staff almost ran into Atrium, summoning tables and house elves with food and drinks, bowing and scraping with many a ‘Lord Death’ and one ‘My Lord Beli’ from an elderly wizard janitor.

The dimensionally displaced looked around themselves in surprised awe. Well, except for Gabriel – he was laughing at the hellhound’s failing attempts to catch the wily, squeaking, house elves.

Harry re-affirmed to himself that he really was fate’s bitch. Potter luck dictated that all the worst things happened to him, so it would be par for the course he would walk right into the personification of Death, whom would probably now send him on to the afterlife, painfully.

“You, sit.” Death addressed the internally panicked teen, pointing to the oppose side of the table buried in food the entity was now sat at. Harry obediently drew up a stool and sat. He watched amazed as Death himself piled food on a second plate and shoved it at the young wizard. “It’s terribly boring to eat by oneself. You may call me Lord Beli for this evening.”

Suddenly, the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, bustled in from the floo, obviously having been roused from his evening at home. His robes were rumpled over a pinstripe suit, and he was missing his lime green bowler hat.

“L-lord Death,” The Minister nervously greeted the Deity, “To what do we owe your, ah, esteemed visit? Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, No. Just checking on some mutual acquaintances.” Death waved the politician away with obvious disinterest. His wizened, eternal gaze had yet to leave Harry, who was more nervously playing with his food, than eating it.

“Well, uh, I just need a quick word with Mr Potter, right?” Fudge questioned.  He grabbed the teen’s arm and physically pulled him away without waiting for a response.

“What a rude man. Would it kill him to be more polite?” Death commented, serving himself more of a particularly tasty turkey roast.


“What do you think you’re doing boy?” Fudge demanded once he felt secure behind a quick silencing charm.  Harry had the distinct impression that Death was being nosy and had nullified the wizard’s spell.

“What the Lord Death asked me to?” Harry replied slowly, wondering what Fudge’s problem was now.  He’d seen all those subtle and not-so-subtle jabs in the Daily Prophet, and wondered why the ministry was so intent on attacking a still-fourteen year old kid.

“The owl expelling you for using Underage Magic has been unable to find you all evening! Do you know how much overtime you’re making me put in? And now, you’re strolling through my Ministry after hours, sitting with an actual Deity, as though you’re somebody important! I should have you arrested right now!” The man ranted. Quick as a flash, Harry twisted himself free of the minister’s grip, stepping back and aiming his wand straight at the pudgy man’s face.

“First off, how can you expel me for underage magic, when I didn’t cast any? I was in the Department of Mysteries all evening after Lady Magic nearly dropped that lot on my head.” The easily riled teen gestured to the group off to the side, “And we were just leaving ‘your’ precious ministry when Lord Beli told me to sit and eat. I wasn’t about to disobey Death!”

“It was clearly recorded that you cast a patronus charm in a muggle neighbourhood, in full view of a muggle!”

“I didn’t cast a patronus! Or any magic. Dean over there was the one who saved me & my cousin from having our souls sucked out, and he didn’t use any magic either. Maybe you should be investigating why two dementors were in Surrey in the first place?”

“Lies! Lies and slander! There were no dementors boy, and I’d thank you to stop making up such fanciful tales. Just like your stories about You-Know-Who. All tall tales from a delusional little boy.”

“I’m not making anything up!” Harry’s anger was causing the temperature to rise, and the few burning floos to flare. “Why don’t you go take a look at the dementor corpses we brought to the Aurors a few hours ago? Go on, I’ll wait here while you actually check the evidence.”

Harry made a show of standing in place, crossing his arms demonstratively across his chest. “Just like you should have done at the end of the Triwizard Tournament. You know, instead of just sweeping Cedric Diggory’s death under the rug. Or what about how you failed to investigate who had kept Professor Moody trapped in his own trunk while they impersonated him. For a whole year! Wasn’t Moody a respected, veteran Auror? Do you even care about the Wizarding public you’re supposed to serve as Minister?”

“You think your ‘wonderful’ Headmaster would make a better Minister than me, do you?” Fudge blustered, taking the chance to re-direct the teen from the more uncomfortable accusations.

“A post owl would make a better Minister than you.” Harry butted in before the man could say more. “Newsflash – Dumbledore doesn’t want to be Minister. No one wants to Minister for Magic. The job sucks.”

Fudge blinked repeatedly in shock, while Harry caught his breath.

“Now, unless you’re the Head of the DMLE wanting to actually investigate Cedric’s murder, I have nothing to say to you.”

Harry turned away from where he had been practically shouting in the Minister’s face, to notice the silently listening audience that surrounded him. This included, but was not limited to a good portion of Ministry night staff, a low level scribe working over-time holding an active dict-o-quill, two house elves baring food, the group Harry had spent the evening in the Department of Mysteries with, and the amused looking personification of Death.


Gabriel broke the moment by stepping forward and offering the mortified teen a round of applause, and was soon joined by Dean.

“What? The kid definitely won that round.” The hunter defended against his brother’s questioning grimace.

Death cleared his throat, and very quickly the ministry staffers, including Fudge, departed back into the depths of the building or away through the floos.

“Sorry about all that.” Harry muttered awkwardly upon reaching the table side.

“Dinner and a show. Knew there was a reason I like visiting this ream.” Death stated, causing Harry’s blush to deepen. “But back to business, I merely came to see why Ceridwen would take on such a band of misfits. And now I have my answer; You, Mr Potter.”

“Me? But I’m just Harry. Really!” Death snorted at the denial.

“You are the last direct descendant of the Peverell line, still capable of reproduction.” At the confused expressions he elaborated. “This universe, and the one your ‘guests’ originated, are on course to intercept. In a century or so, they will essentially meld into each other. The Lady Magic and her ilk are aware of this, and are therefore starting to gather magical families’ dedications in order to survive. She brought you this lot as show of power and faith, to curry your favour for when you take over your family lines.”

“Now normally, I couldn’t care less,” Death shrugged. “Universes, realms and time streams collide all the time. This occasion, however, is different. Ceridwen has set her sights on the one family in this realm that has traditionally dedicated themselves to me. The Peverell’s are mine.”

“But you’re Death. You won’t die without believers, right?” Sam questioned.

“I may be the only Celestial Being that doesn’t require belief to exist, but really, it’s a matter of principle. I’ll be seeing you.” And he disappeared without fanfare between one second and the next.


Chapter Text




"Harry, my boy!" Albus Dumbledore finally arrived in a whirl of brightly coloured robes. "Minister Fudge hasn't attempted to expel you from Hogwarts, has he? I'm sure you had a valid reason for casting magic when you know you're not supposed to. When Arabella informed me the Aurors had come and arrested you, well. I'll just have a quick word with Cornelius, and then I'll take you to where you'll be staying for the rest of the summer."

"I didn't get arrested!" Harry objected loudly. "I didn't get expelled either, since I didn't cast any magic."

"Please don't raise your voice at me, Mr Potter. It may be the summer break, but I am still your Headmaster." The man admonished. "If it is as you say, what are you doing in the Ministry of Magic after hours, when you should be safe at your relatives' house?"

"Hi, I'm Dean, Dimensionally Displaced, and the one who saved Boy-Wonder here from a couple of those dementor creatures. You know, at the place where he's 'safe'." Dean butted into the conversation. He has a feeling the kid was all out of 'epic smack-down'. Besides, this day was really starting to drag on, and he hadn't had the chance yet to really check that Sammy was okay from his time as Lucifer's meat-suit and the dive into Hell.

"Ah. I'm afraid we haven't been introduced properly." The old wizard really looked at the group surrounding his student in the otherwise empty atrium. "But that can wait until we are at a more secure location. Are all six of you now associated with my student?"

"Too right." Dean nodded. "So if you'll give us an address, we'll meet you there. I'm not leaving Baby in that alleyway any longer than I have to."

"Right. Well, Harry if you come with me through the floo," The elderly man began.

"You think this lot can be left unsupervised?" Bobby laughed. "The only reason there's not bullets and flames flying is 'cos of the kid." Various members of the odd group nodded in agreement after checking the movements of their standing neighbours for aggressive motions.

Sighing in defeated aggravation, Dumbledore passed around a slip of parchment with a single sentence written on it.

"This building is hidden by a piece of magic called the Fidelius charm. Memorise the address, because no one else will be able to remind you if you forget. Harry, I will instruct your Godfather to prepare for the arrival of your guests." The headmaster snatched back the piece of parchment and left in a flurry of mismatched patterns and colours.

"Got the feeling that man's got more plans then he's letting on." Grumbled Bobby, "And we've just mucked a whole heap of them up. Now how do we get out of this place?"

Castiel ended up leading them back to the visitor's entrance after asking a security guard for directions and thoroughly freaking the wizard out. The ex-Angel of the Lord looked entirely unrepentant.

Gabriel was leaving a trail of fruits and vegetables behind as he tried, repeatedly and unsuccessfully, to materialise some candy of some sort. He'd been without processed sugar for several hours now, and that wasn't counting however long he'd been dead for. The closest to sweets Gabriel had gotten so far was a handful of blueberries, with which he'd briefly amused himself by throwing them at Dean. That was until the hunter had spoiled his fun by catching and eating them. Even now, Sam was salvaging the discarded foodstuffs because, hey, it was free food and a life of not having much had taught Sam not to waste; even if he wasn't all that fond of string beans or lychees.

Harry eventually took pity of the increasingly distressed Trickster and handed the man his last chocolate frog from his pocket. The teen didn't even get out his warning about the sweet's ability to jump like a real frog before it had already been devoured.

"Hmmm!" Gabriel hummed happily around his mouthful of enchanted chocolate. "I like this little wizard, he gives me candy. He is now My wizard." The blonde then proceeded to smother and snuggle the embarrassed but secretly pleased teenager. Harry had gotten so few hugs in his life that he treasured and committed to memory each and every one.

Now more cheerful, the ex-archangel kept his arm around Harry's shoulders al through the shuffle for the phone box lifts and the latest argument about how to fit everyone in Dean's car.

"Harry can sit on my lap." Crowley nearly leered. The kid, though unknowingly, had Death himself in his corner, thus the demon couldn't let this little prize get away.

Dean, however, was all for shoving Crowley in the boot despite the fact he was the only one with a working GPS on his phone – "All the best of us end up in Hell. See we've got techies to make phones that not only work both on Earth and downstairs, it can even work in another dimension. Compared to the featherbrains, who can barely tell one end of a toaster from the other."

"Shut up!" Harry's temper broke through the renewed arguing. "I'll ride in the trunk if it will make you lot stop arguing long enough so we can actually get there sometime tonight." He turned to Dean, "Make sure you drive on the left side of the road, please. We're in the UK, alright."

"Harry!" Called out Gabriel, over the re-igniting protests of Harry doing trunk duty even as the teen climbed into the Impala. "Don't leave me with these dicks!" and he tucked himself into the boot after the teen.

"Well now that that's sorted," Bobby led in the silence after the click of the boot shutting. "Let's get moving. These wizards better have beer."


Next Chapter: The crew arrive at Gimmauld Place, and Death starts making threats. 

Sorry it's taken me so long to actually post this chapter- I had the family Christmas celebrations at my house, so that was 12 people all in my little Balinese pole house, when usually there's just two. I did however, successfully cook a x-mas goose on the first try (not too greasy and not too dry). I should finish writing (yes, I hand write everything first) the next chapter sometime today, so hopefully that'll be posted tomorrow. 

Thanks to all my lovely Reviewers!! 

Chapter Text




There were a surprising number of people waiting around the entrance hall of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. This was the second thing Harry noticed upon entering the London townhouse owned by the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black; The first being that the place has obviously seen better days and was in desperate need of a good Hoovering. The third thing Harry noticed was, of course, the current head of the Black family, Sirius himself. The teen practically tackled the older wizard with his greeting hug.

It was then Dumbledore asserted himself in the situation by 'suggesting' everyone head into the kitchen, which turned out to be one of the few clean rooms in the building.

"Hey, you got any beer in this place?" Dean asked, rather than waiting to be politely offered a drink. Sam whacked his brother across the back of the head.

"You won't like it." Gabriel stated as he stole the butterbeer from Dean, which had just been handed around by a suspiciously familiar Auror. The angel had already had a sip of his own and decided he quite liked the sweet drink. "It's sweet like butterscotch."

The elder Winchester screwed up his nose at the thought of butterscotch-y beer. Bobby cautiously tasted his butterbeer, barely refrained from spraying the mouthful across the table, and willingly handed the rest over to Gabriel. The sugar addict had already acquired Sam's butterbeer, and had offered Dean's to Harry.

Crowley smirked and toasted the Hunters with his glass of firewhiskey he'd quietly had Sirius acquie for him from the sideboard. The stuff smoked upon contact with the air, and positively burned going down – the demon thought he could rather get used to it.

Sirius laughed at the group's disgruntled expressions, and offered a round of his firewhiskey.

"Now," The aged Headmaster clapped his hands to bring the meeting to order. "We shall start with introductions." And so the Order of the Phoenix members listed off their names and occupations with a few polite greetings. Gabriel audibly giggled over some of the names given, and Sam and Dean attempted to keep straight faces.

"Dean Winchester," the hunter began when prompted, "My brother Sammy, family friend Bobby Singer, Castiel the Angel of Thursday. The sugar addict over there is Gabriel – Trickster, Archangel and pain-in-the-ass, and finally Crowley the smarmy Crossroads Demon. Nice to meet ya." There was silence for a moment.

"You forgot Growly." The demon put forward, knowing perfectly well that his large pet gave Dean the heeby-jeebies. The Order's eyes turned to the 5-foot-at-the-shoulder, hulking mass of Hellhound that was sitting patiently by its master's chair, staring unblinkingly at Dumbledore.
Dean scowled at the beast, repressing both a shudder and his hellhound related memories.


"Well, it is now very late, and I think we have achieved here as much as possible, what with Kingsley's earlier report. I suggest we all get a good night's sleep and work on getting to know one another better on the morrow." Dumbledore ended the meeting under the blank, white stare of Growly, who seemed to have taken an immediate dislike to the man.

In truth, the Hogwarts Headmaster just didn't know what to make of these people who had all but glued themselves to the Potter boy's side; especially that one with the gold coloured wings who was announced as an Archangel of all things. That one had barely paid attention to anyone but Harry through the whole meeting, even when he was being insulted by the rude, mouthy one. Severus was going to have an aneurysm when he met and inevitably clashed with Dean.

Just why would the good Lady Magic bring such an unusual group to Harry of all people? Yes the boy had an unfortunate prophesy hanging over his head, but Albus just couldn't figure out how introducing these people was supposed to help with that. Two of them were even squibs! And the extremely tall one was barely more than that. Then the 'Crossroads Demon', whatever that was and two supposedly celestial beings. Just what were this lot supposed to do, exactly?

Mind still spinning, Albus decided to take his own advice and sleep on the problem. Maybe it would make more sense after a refreshing eight hours shut-eye.


"Where's Gabriel?" Sam asked as Dean and Castiel joined the secret rendezvous in the Black family library. Crowley had already disappeared among the stacks, and Bobby was visibly itching to do so as well.

"Asleep wrapped around Harry." Dean quietly responded, not wanting to alert the wizards in residence to their private meeting. "Anyone know why he's so attached to the kid? I mean, I'd think it was just the giving him candy thing, if he hadn't been watching the boy from the start."

"I believe young Harry reminds him of Harribel." Castiel offered.

"Who's Harribel?" Crowley asked, having silently made a re-appearance, book in hand, startling the two younger hunters. Bobby had been facing the demon's approach, and just shook his head at Sam and Dean's lack of awareness, muttering "Idjits" under his breath.

"Harribel was the Angel of Sacrificial Love, and Gabriel's Resonant." Was the uninformative response.

"Resonant?" Sam queried. Seeing the surrounding curious expressions, Castiel explained.

"Angels do not reproduce sexually, and so do not form romantic attachments between ourselves. Some angels however, will find another whose Grace is highly compatible, and 'resonates' with their own. Those will have a deeper bond than with their other brothers and sisters, and in time, the pair will share duties and any special abilities between them."

"So what happened to Gabe's Resonant?" Sam continued.

"He sacrificed himself during the last battle between Michael and Lucifer. To prevent them from killing each other, Harribel took the killing blows from both of their blades. Lucifer allowed himself to be caught and sentenced to Hell in the face of Gabriel's grief – Gabriel always was Lucifer's favourite brother. The Host believed Gabriel to have followed his Resonant into Death, so saw no need to investigate his later disappearance." Castiel, as usual, seemed uncomfortable discussing the private matters of his angelic brethren.

"The physical similarities between the two Harribels, your dimension's and this one, are believe it or not, entirely coincidental." Death announced his presence to the room. "Similarities of personality is just a matter of individual perception, and bare no relevance on reality. When that archangel finally decides to question this, you may assure him that you lot are the only travellers here ever to come from your neck of the woods." The Deity lounged back on the sofa, and sipped a milkshake through a plastic straw.

"Shit! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Dean gasped, grasping his shirt over his heart. "A little warning next time?"

Death gave a dead-pan look. "No."

"Our Harry, asleep up the hall," Bobby pointed in the direction of the library door, "Is actually named Harribel? Like I'm actually Robert?"

"Surely you have noticed these wizards have some odd naming traditions?" Death raised one eyebrow, as though his estimation of the humans' IQ had just dropped even lower. "I believe the boy's father was named Saint James Charlus Potter, or some such." Sam mouthed 'Saint James?' in disbelief.

"Now I did not come here to discuss matters of coincidence, nor bad naming traditions." Death resumed speaking after some more milkshake. "Ceridwen is attempting to gain Bloodline Devotion by bringing the Saviours of one world to the prophesied Saviour of another. She wants you lot guide Harry on his destined path, so at the conclusion of the battles to come, Harry will feel grateful, and thus turn the Dedications of the Potter, aka Peverell, and Black, when he inherits it, family lines to her."

"I however, will not play nice on this. Every one of your little band of misfits owes me for not reaping your souls at one point or another. You can pay me back by making sure the Peverell, and therefore Black Dedications come to me."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Bobby asked, and scowled when the seated entity unconcernedly slurped the last of his milkshake as noisily as possible.

"I do not care how you do it, Just that you do." Death replied. "As added incentive: should you fail, I will end your current existences personally. Then I shall pluck you from the reincarnation cycle and force you into the lifecycle of the intestinal parasites of a mangy, stray dog. All while leaving your current mindsets and memories intact."

"Well, I'm certainly feeling motivated now." Crowley muttered. Everyone else just stared – horrified at the threat, and a bit awed at the creativity.

Suddenly, the shadows in the corner surged, forming into a man. Cue raised weaponry, including Castiel's Angel blade and a handful of Hellfire held by Crowley.

"My descendent looks most like Antioch." The new man ignored the firearms directed at him and addressed Death directly, handing over a cardboard pizza box as he did so. "Ant will be most insufferable for at least the next month."

Death spied the armed and alarmed group over his mouthful of pizza. He rolled his eyes.

"Ignotus Peverell, one of my Reapers in this realm, and your Harry's many times great grandfather." Death introduced, "Ignotus, the weirdos gifted upon your descendant."

"Hey, watch who you're calling 'weirdo'." Dean objected.

"I believe a tapeworm may be most fitting in your case." Death mused, staring at the hunter meaningfully.

"Right. Shutting up." The man smartly stood down.

"A sign of intelligence at last." Death sighed, and stood from the couch, leaving his empty paper cup and pizza box on the coffee table. "I believe Harry is most fond of Treacle tart; why, he'd almost kill for it."
Death and Ignotus vanished into the shadows.


In the morning, Sirius sniffed out the pizza box in the Library.

"Damn, they didn't leave any for me." He complained to himself upon finding the box empty. "I want pizza for breakfast now. Time for Harry's tagger-ons to start making themselves useful."

There were numerous shouts and the sound of gunfire as three hunters and the angel unlucky enough to be sharing a room with one of them, were woken by a large Grim-lookalike slobbering on their faces.


Longer chapter for you since Dean wouldn't stop antagonising everyone and Death was being facetious. Actually, thats just par for the course...

Thanks to my wonderful reviewers especially, and a thumbs up to all who left kudos.



Chapter Text



Only Sam and Dean ended up going to the shops around the block for pizza and 'real' beer, as demanded by Bobby from behind the large dusty book he was reading.
The two Americans strolled along the damp London street, Dean's pocket jingling with collected spare change pressed onto him by Harry and Sirius. Sirius because he wanted some muggle beer too and coins were all the muggle currency he had been able to pick up while on the run; and Harry because he'd seen the list of sweets and cakes Gabriel has passed on to the brothers, and figured as they'd only arrived the day before from another country in another dimension they wouldn't have any British pounds on them. Harry's years of pinching the change that Dudley tended to leave in a pile on his desk since he didn't want to carry around all the heavy coins, finally had a use.

Dean felt a bit silly, like he was going to pay for a carton with pennies. Sam rather thought Dean was being ridiculous.

While in the liquor store, comparing American and British made beers and their prices, a rough looking man without a shirt under his coat stalked in, grabbed a carton of beer from the pallet next to the brothers, threw some notes to the scared stiff girl at the registers and walked back out.

Sam nodded to Dean to let him know he'd seen the same thing. That man was a werewolf, and one on the Ministry of Magic's Most Wanted list. In fact, they'd even seen his mugshot in the wizards' newspaper that morning. Abandoning the quest for beer, they followed after the werewolf.

Hoping the guy hadn't apparated away already, Sam and Dean entered the alleyway they'd seen the man turn in to. Faced with an empty, damp walkway, the brothers were about to turn back when they were beset by the man from behind a dumpster.

"What stupid muggles you are." Fenrir Greyback growled in a rough, underused voice. "Oh well, saves me having to stop by the butchers!" One dirty, long-nailed hand raised a short wand, and the Winchesters burst into action.

Not giving the wizard time to send off a spell, Sam rushed the brute, matching strength for strength in a tussle to remove the use of magic from the fight. Although he was soon made wandless, the werewolf wasn't about to give up, clawing and attempting to bite the tall hunter.

In all this, Dean was re-loading his gun with the precious few silver bullets the Winchesters had in their possession. They more commonly used salt or iron rounds unless specifically hunting a werewolf, and Dean sure hadn't been expecting to go hunt one while on a beer run.

"Dean!" Sam gritted out, still struggling to fend off the shorter, though heavier lycan. "Hurry up and shoot his ass!"

Two gunshots rang out, and Sam's opponent went down screaming.

"Did you just…?" The younger Winchester drifted off, staring incredulously at Dean while he continued to catch his breath.

"What? You told me to." Dean shrugged, as though that was a perfectly logical explanation for having put a silver bullet into each of the infamous Fenrir Greyback's butt-cheeks. "Right. You stand guard, I'll get the car."

"And hurry up before the cops get here!" Sam called to his brother's retreating back. Sam looked down on the suffering werewolf at his feet.

"Well you won't be running away anytime soon at least." He snorted. Greyback didn't seem to have been able to hear through his pain.


Dean hadn't been nearly as surprised as the locals when Sirius had first shown him to the garage to park the Impala the night before. Having been born and raised in the USA meant he was used to people having driveways with garages, or at least carports, attached to their houses. UK city dwellers apparently rarely even owned cars, and the wizarding populace even less so.
The only reason the townhouse had a garage, Sirius had explained, was due to the fact that when the house was built, the area was rather 'well-to-do' and having a place to park a vehicle was a social status symbol. Of course, the region had aged and gone rather downhill since then.

All the same, it made getting the injured werewolf out of the Impala's boot and into the kitchen a lot easier and a lot less likely to be noticed by the neighbours. Dean nodded respectfully to Sirius' Harley as he struggled past with Greyback's feet. Sam ignored his brother's eccentricity.

"You idjits!" Bobby complained, seeing the brothers manhandle and secure the bleeding, heavily restrained werewolf to a kitchen chair. "Send you out for food and beer, and you return with a man-eating werewolf. Can't you two stay out of trouble for a single day?"

Bobby's ranting attracted the attention of the others who had been watching Crowley attempt to teach Harry about managing his finances. He'd taken on the task after seeing Harry receive, and then fail to check over his bank statement.

"Is that Fenrir Greyback?" Harry asked disbelievingly, peering at the struggling man from between Crowley and Sirius' shoulders. The teen was held back from getting a closer look by Gabriel's grip on the back of his shirt.

"It sure is." Remus Lupin growled, eyes flashing amber. The perpetually exhausted looking werewolf was currently in-between missions for the Order, and suddenly very grateful for it.

"Beer's in the back seat." Dean offhand replied to Bobby. "See, I was thinking, since this guy's on the other side we get what we can out of him information wise, then hand him in and collect the bounty when you three have your ministry appointment this afternoon."

"Well, I'll just go distract Harry upstairs." Sirius suggested, seeing Crowley's eyes bleed scarlet and matching evil smirk taking up residence on his face.

"Come on my precious godson, let's see about starting your animagus training alright?" Successfully distracted Harry from his oncoming argument. The two were swiftly followed by a blank faced Castiel and a maliciously grinning Gabriel. Bobby grumbled off to collect the beer.

"I think I'll just wait for the finished product, per se'." Remus broke away from his glaring to realise what was about to happen. Once the kitchen door clicked closed behind the man, Crowley turned to the two younger hunters.

"How do you boys feel about a study comparing werewolves here to the ones back home?"



Here's a new chapter for you. I have no idea what liquor stores are like in the UK and just based this one off my local (Australian) Dan Murphey's. Fingers crossed for me finishing the next chapter tomorrow. If you have any ideas about ridiculous and accidentally advantageous situations for the SPN crew to get into, that you'd like to see, feel free to PM & I will make sure to reference any idea monkeys I may use :p 


Chapter Text



Amelia Bones stared. She shut her eyes tight for a second, then stared again when the scene before her didn't change. When she had been informed that Greyback had been captured and brought in for his bounty, she was expecting either another innocent werewolf off the streets brought in by some wanna-be vigilante, or a clean, successful capture by one of the Hit Wizard teams; the first one being the more likely.

She did not expect a post-torture Fenrir Greyback, tied with muggle ropes to a furniture moving dolly, with duct tape over his mouth to prevent biting. The two individuals who had wheeled the convict in were just as unexpected.

All the Department Heads had received a memo about the latest dimension travellers, so to keep an eye on their actions and movements. She had two of her Aurors 'escorting' three of them and the Potter boy to a Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures appointment right at this minute.

And now two of those same dimension travellers stood before her, two with a significantly lower Threat Level Index than the others currently in the building, and yet these were the ones who apparently apprehended the insane and highly dangerous Azkaban escapee.

"Harry said you have some Truth Juice or something you use for interrogating criminals." The shorter, blonder one stated. According to the memo, this one was a squib.

"Veriaserum." The taller corrected. And this one wasn't much more powerful.

"How did you manage to find and capture this man, when he's got the best of our Aurors and Hit Wizards running in circles?" Amelia enquired, raising a steel coloured eyebrow.

"Just happened to spot him out in London." Dean shrugged. "Just like our old job back home, we couldn't let him go around savaging innocents."

"You two were Hit Wizards; Magical bounty hunters?" The Head of the DMLE asked doubtfully. "Despite having such limited magic?"

"Magical ability isn't everything." Sam argued, unimpressed with the witch's narrow mindedness. "You might just want to get on with the questioning though. Before the silver poisoning kills him."

Amelia's eyes narrowed, but she did summon Shacklebolt, Moody, Dawlish and Scrimgeour to take the prisoner to Interrogation.

"Wait here until we have confirmation of the capture. If it really was you who apprehended Greyback, your sponsor Mr Potter, will need to come in to collect the bounty on your behalf, since you're not yet recognised as Citizens of Magical Britain." Bones informed the two. "Please take a seat in the waiting room."



Elsewhere in the Ministry building:

"Is your conjuration a charm or transfiguration?" The DRCMC worker asked Gabriel of his fresh produce skill. At least this ministry employee wasn't creepily cheerful, nor was attempting to hit on Crowley in the mistaken belief that he was an incubus.

"What's the difference?" Castiel asked, breaking away from staring unblinkingly at their Auror escort. The Aurors breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"A conjuration charm is essentially a type of illusion. It is magic manifested into the shape, appearance, taste, smell, etc. of the object, but at the end is just that, a manifestation of magic. It has no substance." Harry rattled off boredly. He remembered taking endless notes on this way back in first year. "A transfiguration based conjuration however, is taking the matter from one object, be that wood, glass, stone, paper, the air, and re-arranging the molecular structure to turn the original matter into the desired object. However, just like charms, all transfigurations are temporary and require continued magical input from the caster, or else the object will return to its original state. Like the chairs from yesterday returned to being air molecules."

Gabriel concentrated intently on his hand while he materialised a tomato.

"Neither. I'm growing it." The man informed the room at large, tossing the tomato casually at Crowley, who flambéed it mid-air with a spark of hellfire. The now crispy skinned, well-cooked fruit landed on the floor with a wet splat. Two workers from neighbouring cubicles peered over the dividers at the tomato. When it did nothing further of interest, they returned to their own tasks.

As the woman turned to Castiel to ask if he had the same plant creation and growth ability, Gabriel pinched the jar of hard candies from her desk. Harry dropped his face into his hands, mortified.


"Do we even want to know?" Sam's voice snapped Dean out of his middle-distance stare. He turned to see who his brother was taking to, and badly suppressed his amusement.

Castiel had speed-walked right up to the Winchesters and was making a failed attempt at being unnoticeable behind Sam. Considering the Angel's wings, while intangible, were still visible around the hunter's sides, his success was rather limited. Crowley looked distinctly ruffled, highly disturbed and twitched every time a passing witch or wizard caught his eye. Gabriel was happily juggling two overstuffed jars of candy and a rose patterned bowl of assorted cookies, while looking far too pleased with himself.

Harry brought up the rear, feet shuffling and face down. The teen ignored everyone else, placed his nose to a blank stretch of wall, and then started rhythmically bashing his forehead into it. Dean snickered as he reached out grabbing Harry's shirt, and pulled the unresisting teen into the seat next to him.

"Alright, out with it kid. What happened?" The hunter asked in his patented Big Brother voice.

"Oh Merlin!" Harry groaned theatrically at his ratty trainers. "I can't believe these guys!"

"Cas stared at the Aurors watching over us until one has a psychotic break, and ran screaming down a stairwell, and I didn't know this place had stairwells! I thought there were just the elevators, you know?" Harry began his tale, waving and pointing his arms erratically. Dean nodded as stoically as he could manage. "Then Crowley keeps getting hit on, like every two minutes! Which is disturbing enough, considering some of the people. But the six-foot-two, 300 pound Merlin impersonator was just wrong on so many levels!" Dean coughed to hide his struggle not to laugh.

"And then, to make it all even worse, Gabe tries to materialise animals instead just fruit and whatnot, without warning anyone first. And grows and entire cow out of this guy's beef sandwich by accident! And the angry Again-Cow then starts a stampede with half the department's desks! So while everyone's running around trying to catch their desks, Gabe's sneaking about stealing everyone's sweets and biscuits!" Harry finished his rant and Dean tried his best not to laugh, hiding his grin behind a hand. Sam was leaning right forward in his seat, head on his knees, actually giggling.

An auror pair walked by at that point, the man winking saucily and the woman licked her lips and blew a kiss in Crowley's direction.

"Why are they all doing this? I'm not a bleeding Incubus!" The demon broke and shouted after the two. Sam's laughter caused him to fall out of his chair. Even Castiel left some of his personal embarrassment behind to be amused at Crowley's misfortune.

"It's the horns." Harry explained through his ever deepening blush. "They look similar enough for most people to get confused." He shrugged at the Winchesters' curiosity.

"The Demonic races here are all sort of psychic vampires, feeding off emotion. Incubi, and Succubi, feed on lust and the magic expelled when, well, you know." Harry mumbled, wishing today would turn out to be just a bad dream. "So they're supposed to be really good at, uhm, acquiring their food, so to speak."

Dean lost it at the wizard's uncomfortable explanation, and started laughing. Harry groaned and folded himself up in the chair as small as he could. Maybe if he curled himself up small enough, he'd compress all the way into a black hole.

"Oi, you lot!" Barked Alastor Moody as he approached, breaking the laughing men from the depths of their hilarity, and making Harry uncurl from his ball of mortification.

"Professor Moody." The boy greeted.

"Didn't get to much teaching, did I?" The man grumbled, turning his mismatched eyes to the Winchester brothers. "Getting' Greyback right where it hurts; unexpected and effective. Keep up the good work lads." The brothers tried unsuccessfully to hide their grins at the reminder of where they'd shot the werewolf. Auror Dawlish finally caught up to his newly re-instated superior, and dropped a bag of galleons into an un-expecting Harry's arms.

"What's this?" The bewildered teen asked.

"Greyback's bounty." The serious faced Auror answered, before also turning to the Winchesters. "Madame Bones would request that you leave interrogation to the DMLE in future." The group overheard Moody muttering about 'namby-pamby policies' and 'handling Death Eater scum with kid-gloves' as he and the other man departed. Harry turned to Sam and dumped the bag of gold into his hands.

"Let's get home." He sighed.


Madame Amelia Bones watched the unusual group leaving the Ministry via the Security System Window in her office.

"Mark up their TLI's to C-9." She ordered her assistant, Rufus Scrimgeour.

"Which ones?" The lion-like man asked, pulling up the paperwork.

"All of them."

"All of them? Even the old man that wasn't here?" Rufus sought clarification.

"If today's messes are what those five can do, imagine what chaos the one they left locked away can achieve." The woman reasoned.


In the library of number 12 Grimmauld Place, Bobby Singer continued to snore in the armchair he'd claimed as his own.


Ummm... Well, it amused me, at any rate. 

Thanks for the wonderful reviews on the last chapter!!


Chapter Text



Gabriel was reading stretched out on the old sofa in the drawing room. One of his hands held up the book, the other alternated between feeding himself candy from one of his pilfered jars, and gently stroking through the hair of the teenager sleeping and drooling on his shirt.

Harry had had a rough night, waking several times from his nightmares, since he insisted on not needing to share with Gabriel. Thus the nightmares, and neither Harry nor his archangel roommate getting much sleep. Gabriel considered himself lucky to still not need much sleep, despite having recently been be-souled.

Harry shuffled in his sleep. The man playing the part of a pillow smiled and quietly snorted to himself about teenage obstinacy. He supposed that if you were going to get the ability to reproduce, you had to pay for it by going through puberty. Yin-Yang and all that.

"He's not the same as the first Harribel we knew in Heaven." Castiel entered the room and launched into his desired topic with all his usual subtlety – that of a bowl of spaghetti dumped over one's head.

"Oh I know." The elder angel replied, flicking his gaze to his brother. "Heavenly Harribel didn't have this Harry's temper. Or stubbornness. And he certainly didn't laugh at my jokes and quip back."

"Now don't get me wrong, I loved Harribel with all my heart, like I love all our brothers and sisters," Gabriel clarified at Castiel's frown. "But this Harribel, right here and now, is somehow, just, More."

"You're in love with him." Castiel stated in realisation.

"Maybe soon I will be." The blonde shrugged his free shoulder. "It's pretty sad, you know. I avoided close contact for millennia, so I couldn't develop too deep feelings for anyone, trying to keep what's left of my grace. And now…"

"When the dimensions collide, you will Fall." The younger angel finished. He well remembered his own experience with Falling – the pain and encroaching weakness were debilitating. The silence between the brothers stretched for a few moments, before it was abruptly broken.

"Or you could complete your transformation into Loki before then." Crowley put in his two cents, startling the two angels enough that Gabriel's jump woke Harry.

"Wha's gon' nn?" The teen slurred, barely awake.

"Just Crowlers being a creeper. Go back to sleep." The angel soothed, shooting the demon the stink-eye over Harry's head. The wizard muttered something that sounded like "top creepy-crawly, mm tie Ent leap", but was more an order for Crowley to stop creeping than the gibberish it sounded like.

Gabriel was forced to shift as Harry wriggled around, practically burying his head between the couch and his living pillow's ribs. Once Harry was assuredly sleeping soundly again Gabriel returned his attention to the sneaky demon, silently demanding an explanation.

"See, you could hand over what's left of your Archangel-ness to Cassie here,"

"Do not call me that again." Castiel demanded and was promptly ignored.

"After completing your ascension as Loki, the Norse Trickster God of whatever-it-is, and collect up dedications like the other gods here. Then when Harry joins his ancestors as an uber-reaper and the worlds collide, you're still an immortal but there's no fear of Falling since you won't be relying on Heaven's power anymore."

What's in it for you?" Gabriel quizzed. "You don't think up a plan like that on the fly, out of the goodness of your own heart."

"Oh, believe me, it wasn't on the fly. I've been planning and researching pretty much since we got here." Crowley assured them calmly. "Look, everyone and their brain-dead aunt can see how attached you and the kid are to each other, and honestly I would hate to see someone like Zachariah or Qaphsiel promoted to Archangel in your place. Cas here, I can at least kind-of stand."

"Yeah, those two are both dicks." Gabriel agreed, wrinkling up his nose at how unsuited to power some of his siblings were. "So, you came up with this grand plan to influence the Heavenly Hierarchy, and what, keep Harry happy? Because don't think I haven't noticed you trying to cosy-up to Harry, and I would have thought helping me would be against that."

"Pretty much, to the first." Crowley shrugged. "And I'm intelligent enough to see trying to get yourself and Harry apart would be a fool's errand. I'll just have to keep you both, and that's an even more enticing concept." The demon disappeared back into the hidden passageway he'd been exploring before coming upon the angels in the drawing room.

"Crowley is a very unusual demon." Castiel stated, frowning.

"Don't have to tell me." Scoffed Gabriel.

"I never did ask, why did you have carnal relations with Crowley? You are still able to see a demon's true form through their vessels aren't you?" The brunet angel asked, taking a seat in a nearby armchair.

"Of course I can!" Gabriel replied, mock offended someone would doubt his awesome abilities.

"So, why?" Castiel looked confused and vaguely horrified.

"I wanted to know if the rumours were true." When his brother continued to look confused, the archangel continued, "You would have heard them around the barracks, about a certain crossroads demon and what he's hiding under his tailored trousers?"

"Oh." The younger angel did indeed remember the rumours. He leaned forward in his seat and lowered his voice to a near whisper.

"So are the rumours true?"

"I don't kiss and tell." Gabriel grinned mischievously, waggling his eyebrows.


Harry's barely stifled giggling drew Gabriel's attention, so he headed for the library where he'd last left his favourite human to complete his summer homework. It was immediately obvious what had the teenager so amused, so the gold-winged angel leaned himself on the door frame to properly enjoy the spectacle.

Sam Winchester and Crowley were having a stare-off. They each held onto part of an old, dusty book and were intent on neither sharing nor giving up their claim to read it first. The stares slowly morphed into frowns, then to teeth baring snarls. Finally they began to actually tussle over the book, shoving the other away while trying not to lose their own grips on the prize. Harry was by now holding his nose to keep his laughter in and avoid distracting the squabbling duo.

The well-dressed demon finally won by stomping on Sam's sock clad foot with his ever-impeccable dress shoes. The tall hunter released his grip on the book to hop around cradling his toes and cursing Crowley to eternal servitude to Uriel. Crowley, very maturely, made a rude hand gesture in response. Bobby called the pair of them 'idjits' from his claimed armchair in the corner.

Once the excitement had passed, and Harry had returned his attention to his school work, Gabriel stood from the doorway and joined Crowley at the small table he'd claimed by the fireplace.

"Not that that wasn't entertaining, but why precisely do you need that tome on," He bent to read the cover, "Legalities of Courtship and Marriage in the Modern Wizarding World?"

"I'd be more concerned with why Samuel wanted to read it." Crowley replied, flicking from the index to the pages he desired.

"While that is a good question, it was a very poor distraction."

"You're going to keep annoying me until I answer, aren't you?" Crowley frowned over the top of his book. Gabriel grinned and nodded enthusiastically. Speed reading a few more lines, the demon reached out and grabbed the other man's arm, pulling him to sit close on the settee.

"Remember our discussion from yesterday, where I gave some advice to you and Feathers Junior?"

"Yes. I'm still researching that by the way, making sure it's really as viable as you made it sound. What's that got to do with the book?" The blonde replied, settling into the chair and allowing the other to read a little further. Crowley really did have the best spot in the otherwise permanently chilly library.

"Did you know that Harry has no head for numbers?" The brunet jumped topics abruptly. "Absolutely zero fucks given to his finances as the sole beneficiary of a well-to-do family. And then he's also Heir to the ennobled House of Black, which means even more financial management tasks. A whole lifetime of them. Not to mention the politics."

"Yeah," Gabriel answered suspiciously, "He's rather dreading it."

"Well that's his future," Crowley smirked. "Unless he marries under contract as a minor."

"I don't do politics or finances either." The angel visibly drooped. "I couldn't give Harry up to someone else, even if it could make his life easier."

"As though he'd let you." The other man scoffed. "What you need is a Triad Bond, this one in particular, with someone who does have the head for business." He pointed to the passage he'd been skimming over before, passing the book into Gabriel's arms so he could read it easier.

"You want in on a Marriage for money and status?" Gabriel hissed, ready to smack the demon down if he didn't have a very good answer, very fast.

"Let's call that Reason Number Three." Crowley did his best to seem unaffected by the angel's mood, and sipped a cup of good English tea.
There was a passive-aggressive war between Harry and Crowley, and the Winchester brothers on the merits of tea versus coffee. Gabriel and Remus' side of Hot Chocolate was winning.

"And the first two?"

"You and I get along and have a history of good chemistry, right?" Crowley asked, and Gabriel nodded, leaning back into the settee to listen. "And you and Harry have such good chemistry you're heading straight to Co-Dependency Land; provided you don't burn each other out first."

"You're nobly sacrificing yourself to make us a more stable triangle?" The blonde raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"Hardly." Crowley laughed. "I'm unusual for my kind, you know, having such a close link to previous humanity; keeping most of my memories of being alive; feeling emotions beyond greed, anger and hate… I've been alone, excepting the odd fling, for nearly four hundred years, and I'm sick of it. How you've survived millennia alone, and only mildly insane I'll never know."

Gabriel was heard muttering, "Sanity's no fun anyway."

"I mean," The younger being explained, "What's the point in being the near-Immortal King of the Crossroads, and soon enough, Magical Demon-kind, if I don't have a pair of loving husbands to make me want to pull my hair out for the rest of eternity?"

"Yeah? And what if Harry doesn't want a relationship with you?" The Trickster challenged, though silently the idea was really growing on him. Damn manipulative, silver tongued demons.

"Oh please, I know perfectly well you were listening in on him in the shower this morning, same as I." Crowley leered, remembering hearing his own name spill from the boy's lips in a moment of pseudo-privacy. Either Harry needed to learn to keep his voice down, or remember that he's living in a wizarding residence with adult magic users to over-shadow his magic use.

"Alright, I accept." Gabriel announced after a minute of thought. Unexpectedly, he leaned in close, grabbed Crowley by the collar and kissed the man eagerly, full on the mouth. The old law book fell to the floor with a thump, drawing the attention of the other occupants of the room.

"Now, I'll go reassure Harry, and you figure out how to convince Sirius he wants to contract his precious godson." And the soon to be fully ascended god strolled out of the library after the recently departed, upset teen.

"Bollocks!" The demon swore, once his brain caught up with what challenge his plans faced next.


And the major pairing is now announced - Gabriel/Harry/Crowley

Also 'Harribel' is not a real angel name. It's based from the name 'Haribel' who is a character in the Bleach manga, and I figured was an embarrassing enough name for poor Harry.  'Qaphsiel' however, IS an actual angel name. I think my made-up name is better....

Thank you, you lovely reviewers! You motivate me to keep writing.



Chapter Text


It wasn't Gabriel who found Harry first. The teen used his wealth of sneaking experience to avoid those he was upset with and had hidden away in the garage. He'd briefly distracted himself by sitting astride Sirius' bike, and then trying out the driver's seat of the Impala. Harry decided the bike was more exciting, but the car more comfortable. Though as a wizard, he'd probably never get his licence for either.

Luckily for Harry, by the time Dean found him, the teen was slouched in the passenger seat of the Impala brooding. Dean was immediately reminded of Sam during his teenage years.

"Why are you hiding in my car?" The hunter asked after seating himself in the driver's side.

"Sorry." Harry apologised. "Just thinking and it's quiet here."

"What'd that douchebag do now?"

"Wha? I'm just thinking. What makes you think someone did anything?" Harry denied. He may be upset with the guy, but that didn't mean he wanted the angel's friends mad at him.

Dean just gave Harry a 'Really?' type expression. Dean knew teen-aged angst – he'd practically raised Sam, and God knows that guy could, and still can, angst with the best of them – and the only way to get rid of it was make the angstee spit it out.

"Gabe kissed Crowley in the library." Harry finally muttered. "Right in front of everyone, and I thought… Doesn't matter anyway, I was just being stupid."

Dean sighed, and thought up any possible explanation that might get the kid to stop brooding in his Baby. Though why he didn't just send Harry to Sirius instead of saving Gabriel's stupid angel ass, he didn't know.

"Are you sure that it meant anything? Crossroads Demons seal their deals with a kiss, you know. Since Crowley doesn't have his soul-dealing abilities here, Gabriel could have been just being an annoying shit by 'sealing' an agreement with a kiss. He was the Norse God of Irreverence for a long time."

"It involved tongue, and hands, and lasted long enough for me to stare and even pack up my homework!" Harry swallowed back the tears that wanted to come. He did not want to cry in front Dean.
The hunter sighed and stared at the garage wall through the Impala's windscreen. Why was he doing this again? Oh yeah, because Crowley's plan was the only one they had in order to get Death off their backs, and the rest of their little team was either straight, too old to stomach thinking about, or Castiel.

"Well, despite the way they behave, Gabe and Crowley are adults, who might just need to do adult things."

"So I am just being stupid and needy, and they don't actually want me around, and,"

"If you would cut the angst-fest for a minute!" Dean interrupted. "Yeah Crowley and Gabe are insensitive jerks who should've talked to you before making out at all, and you should be right pissed off at them for that. But them taking their needs out on each other is a good thing for you."

"What? How?" Harry demanded, feeling a mite betrayed.

"You're really ready to bump and grind with those two?"

"Maybe." Harry muttered embarrassed.

"Alright." Dean challenged, "Look me in the face and say 'sexual intercourse'."

"What!?" Harry shrieked, blush going supernova.

"Too scientific? How about 'dirty man-sex' instead?"

Harry made a horrified, mortified groaning sound and buried his burning face in his knees.

"You're not ready for sex yet, that's fine. And while it's good that neither of those dickheads are pressuring you, they're still being ginormous dickheadsfor not talking to you. And ginormous dickheads get punched in the face." Dean stated outright. "So stop sitting in my car being a little bitch, and go punch them in the face, yeah?"

"Yeah." Harry nodded, and grinned a little through his blush. Dean made a shooing motion with his hands and Harry took the hint and left.

"Bloody teenagers." Dean sighed once the wizard had re-entered the house proper. "I don't know Baby, when did I become a relationship counsellor?"


Harry decided that Dean made a hell of a lot of sense. Yes, he was interested in both Gabriel and Crowley, and yes they both had been giving clear signs that they were interested in him too. Even Sirius had noticed their interest and made a multitude of embarrassing jokes and puns as a result. So obviously, Harry was in the right to be mad at them when they pull the figurative rug out from under him.

"Harry, darling." And just his luck, first person he sees is Git Number One – Crowley.

SMACK! The sound of Harry's fist, meeting Crowley's face echoed in the entranced hall.

"What the fuck was that for?" Crowley called out to the teen's retreating back. The demon quietly thanked his lucky stars the kid couldn't yet hit hard enough to have broken his nose.

Harry glared down the stairs at one of the targets of his ire, then slammed the door to his room shut and sat on his bed. The room and bed he'd been sharing with Gabriel.
The wizard massaged his hand which rather hurt from punching Crowley. Maybe Gabriel deserved something trickier…


Satisfied with his work booby-trapping the room and the archangel's precious pilfered candy, Harry picked up the end of his re-packed trunk (kindly brought to Grimmauld by some Order member or another) and re-located himself to an empty room on the disused third floor.

Soon after arranging his trunk at the end of his new bed, Hedwig swooped in with a letter from Ron and Hermione. The two teenagers had been moved back to the Burrow along with the rest of the Weasleys in order to make room for the dimension travellers and Harry at Headquarters.

Both of Harry's friends were now almost demanding to know what was going on, as though they hadn't been holding out on him for weeks themselves. Still feeling vindictive, Harry dug out some of the uninformative notes he'd received while stuck at the Dursleys, to paraphrase in his own note. See how they liked being kept in the dark for 'safety reasons'.


And yeah.... Dean says 'dirty man-sex'..... 

Thanks reviewers!! You make my day!!


Chapter Text




The first place Gabriel looked for his wayward wizard, was the bedroom they’d been sharing. Harry’s books and parchments had been dumped haphazardly on top of the boy’s trunk, but the two pushed together single beds were empty of upset teens. Gabriel continued his search upstairs to the 3rd floor, but only came across Buckbeak the Hippogriff in the master bedroom.

On the way down to the kitchen, the Trickster raised his own spirits by sticking a crab apple into the mouth of one of the mounted House Elf heads. One already had a fake moustache, placed there by Dean, and another was wearing a funny shaped woollen hat in a rather obnoxious shade of orange, which was Harry’s contribution. 

Sirius had, of course, started it all by mounting the head of a rubber chicken in the space where his currently alive house elf wished to be immortalised. The wizard had informed Kreature that the rubber chicken was doing a better job of house-elfing than the domesticated brownie was. Since then Kreature had improved some – still both belligerent and senile, but at least he wasn’t adding to the mess anymore.

Seeing Sirius reading the newspaper alone in the kitchen, and not wanting to admit to having upset Harry, Gabriel did an about-face and headed back to the entrance hall. The entrance hall populated by the shot up portrait of the late Walburga Black (thank whoever you like for jumpy hunters) and a swearing crossroads demon with a bruised and swelling nose.

“What happened to you?”

“Harry just punched me!” Crowley cried, indignant. “I just wanted to talk to him. And the little shit tries to break my nose.”

“Yeah, I think he’s a little upset at you and me.” This earned Gabriel a ‘No Shit?’ expression. “At least now he’s already hurt his hand, so won’t hit me too. Thanks Crowley.”

Gabriel decided to check the bedroom again in case Harry had headed back that way. He stuck his head through the doorway, and was rewarded with a glitter bomb exploding on his head.

“Shitshitshitshit! That’s like, the oldest and most annoying trick in the book. Harrreeeeee.” He whined, brushing as much glitter as possible out of his hair. Once it was safe for the now sparkling blonde to look up, he realised that not only was Harry not in the room, none of his possessions were either.

A scowl settled on Gabriel’s face and he stomped along the hallways, checking every room he came across for his elusive quarry.  He finally found the wizard he was looking for, on the 3rd floor. The bedroom Harry had claimed was larger, but dustier than the previous one.

“Why’d you have to bring out the glitter?” Gabriel whinged at the scowling teen.

“Why’d you have to kiss Crowley?” Harry rebutted.

“We had just made an agreement on something. I was being funny.”

“Booby trapping the door with glitter is funny. Mixing a handful of trick sweets into your ‘hidden’ stash is funny. Snogging Crowley like that in front of me IS NOT FUNNY!” The teen ranted. “I thought you wanted to be with me, like a relationship and then you’re all, you know, without even talking to me and… I mean, do you even want to date me, or am I just getting the wrong message here?”

“Of course I want to be with you.” Gabriel immediately went into damage-control mode. “Crowley does too. We were just agreeing not to compete for you, so you wouldn’t be stuck trying to choose; which I realise we should have discussed with you first; so I ‘sealed the deal with a kiss’. Being ironic since none of us non-humans have all our old powers anymore.”

“I’ve never done this whole human relationship thing before, so I’m bound to mess up sometimes. Please forgive me?” The angel begged.

“I-I suppose.” The teen finally agreed. When the blone moved forward for a hug, Harry stopped him with a raised hand.

“Keep the glitter to yourself though, that stuff itches after a while.” Gabriel’s arms and tentative smile dropped.

“I can’t just snap it away anymore, you realise?” He demonstrated the Trickster Finger Click™. Harry’s sound activated ward produced a tiny raincloud over Gabriel’s head that began a 15 second miniature rainstorm.   

“Great. Now it’s wet glitter.” Gabriel sighed, prompting a laugh from Harry.

“If it helps, Sirius knows a specialised vanishing spell.” Harry shrugged sheepishly, and the man sighed helplessly and nodded.

“By the way, you didn’t really booby trap my candy did you?” Gabriel turned back to ask.

“I don’t know. You’ll find out if you suddenly turn into a giant canary I suppose.”

Gabriel’s moaning and complaints were heard all the way down the hall.



“Geeze what happened to you two?” Rocker-wannabe Bill Weasley asked, stepping into the kitchen of Order HQ.  Sirius had floo-called, asking him to drop by when he had the chance, but was laughing too much to explain anything else.

“Harry.” Gabriel and Crowley answered in unison. The demon was holding a bag of ice to his face, and the archangel sat next to him, wet and sparkling.

“Ah. Tricky kid that one. Ron still has no proof Harry pranked him last year for being a git.” Bill nodded, then turned to Sirius. “What did you need my help with?”

“Harry’s ward. Watch.” The amused animagus gestured towards Gabriel and clicked his fingers. The mini-rainstorm started again, causing Bill and Sirius to chuckle and Gabriel to huff.

“Okay. And the glitter?” Bill asked.

“Didn’t want to try vanishing it yet in case my spell interacted with the ward.” Sirius answered. “That and it’s funny.” At Gabriel’s glare, the wizard just shrugged.

“Piss Harry off and he’s going to get you back. Sometimes really sneakily. Be happy he thinks you important enough to prank. If he really doesn’t like you, he’ll ignore what you’ve done and brush you off as though you don’t exist.”

While Sirius was talking, Bill cast and identifying spell over the soggy, shiny archangel.

“Activate the ward again for me?” The redheaded Cursebreaker requested.  Gabriel clicked his own fingers this time, and leaned sideways to get Crowley in the rainstorm’s perimeter. Said demon scowled impressively.

“Okay, it’s just a basic firefighting ward. Often used on large buildings.” He interpreted the resulting flash of colours from his wand. Sirius, you’re fine to remove the glitter.  Did you pick anything up, or did Harry hand you anything?”

“Aside from the glitter from the bomb, no.” The blonde answered, sighing in relief the irritating sparkles were finally gone.

“Glitter’s too small. Harry’s planted a runic array on you somewhere.” Bill mused. “Show me your shoes for a second.”

Obligingly, Gabriel took of his shoes, and placed them on the table, where the Cursebreaker soon found what he was looking for. Bill held up a thumbtack he had pulled from the bottom of the right shoe.

“I’ve got to show this to my brothers, Fred and George. They’ll really get a kick out of it.”

Cautiously, Gabriel clicked his fingers to evaporate the water from his hair and clothes. The raincloud drenched Bill instead, since he still held the thumbtack.

“Charming.” Bill muttered before drying himself with a spell.  Sirius thanked the younger wizard for his help and escorted him back to the floo.



Later that evening, once the story had been passed around the inhabitants of 12 Grimmauld Place, Sam sat next to Harry in the drawing room.

“Did you really prank Gabe’s candy?” The hunter leaned close to whisper.

“I thought about it.” Harry quietly confessed. “Watching his pointless paranoia is even funnier though.”

Sam chuckled and agreed.



Thank you to the reviewers of the previous chapter :) 

So we see a bit of Harry's revenge. hopefully the story can move forward again now. lols.


Chapter Text



Harry watched the Headmaster stalk out of the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, silently amused. The man had been there to talk to the recently arrived Charlie Weasley about becoming involved with the Order of the Phoenix. The redhead had readily agreed to join, with a focus on international recruitment, but had point blank refused to even discuss bringing the dragons into the equation as possible steeds of war.

Dumbledore had then been prevented from any attempts at persuasion or coercion by simply not being able to get a word in edgewise. Upon finding out that Charlie worked with dragons for a living, Sam and Dean had intensely questioned the young dragon keeper about the beasts he worked with.

Charlie was both amused by the Hunters' enthusiasm and quietly grateful for them derailing the Headmaster's manipulation attempts.
During a lull in the Hunters' questioning, Crowley finally managed to get a word in.

"Do you know much about other species? Besides wizards and your dragons?" He asked of the redhead.

"Sure. While it's called a 'Dragon Preserve' there's a lot of other creatures and beings that live there. I'm actually pursuing a Magizoology degree at the moment." Charlie replied, always happy to talk about his work.

"Hmm. You wouldn't know if it's safe to trim my horns a little would you? I've read that some Demonae horns are sensory organs or used to cast magic, while others they're just like fingernails. I'd rather know for sure before I start cutting. I feel like I'm wearing one of those silly reindeer antler headbands." He sneered at the end of his sentence.

"More like he's sick of getting hit on by overweight Merlin impersonators." Dean snickered, causing a round of laughter to go through the small grouping gathered around the table. Crowley grimaced at the reminder.

"Sure. There's some spells we use on the dragons for stuff like that to safely trim talons and horns. A lot of the time you can't see where the nerves and soft tissues run through the centre." Charlie agreed, still grinning from Dean's words. He rose from the table to stand behind the demon. "Just let me cast a few spells, then I can cut them for you."

"I don't know how people are confusing you for an incubus." Charlie talked as he worked. "You have a distinct Widow's peak, placing your horns in front of your hairline. An incubus, or succubus' grow behind the hairline. A bloke I work with can actually blend his in with his dreadlocks, since the horns grow smoothly over towards the back of the skull."

"Crowley's here, grow upwards away from the skull too much, and have a little twist to them." Charlie pointed out to both Harry and the Winchesters who had all stood and leaned in for a closer look.

"So what can be done?" Crowley interrupted the impromptu lesson. He did not appreciate the close scrutiny; He felt like a specimen being dissected for a school science class.

"Anything you like. They grow from right back in your skull, so it'll be just like cutting fingernails. What do you want me to do? Cut them all the way back?" The redhead suggested.

"Nah, then he'll have funny black circles on his forehead." Sam disagreed. "It'll look weird."

"What about like the muggle stereotype 'devil horns'? Just little ones. It'll work with that twist here." Harry pointed out, tracing what he meant with his finger.

Sam and Dean laughed at the idea until Charlie cut the horns as Harry suggested, and the effect wasn't nearly as funny as what they'd thought.

"Oh come on man, it was supposed to look silly, not make him look more… demony." Dean complained, his fun ruined. "Come on Sammy, we got research to do."

"Demony isn't a word. And you mean I do all the research while you nap on the couch." Sam replied, nevertheless rising and following his brother. The two could be heard continuing their arguing through the hallways towards the library. Charlie departed back to the Burrow now that he was no longer needed, eager to get in as much of his mum's cooking as possible before he had to return to Romania.

"So what do you think?" Crowley turned to face Harry, adopting a devilish smirk. The teen's breath hitched.

"L-looks good." He admitted quietly, blushing. Nothing spelled 'brave Griffindor' like blushing and stammering, Harry thought sarcastically to himself.

"Glad you think so." Crowley purred. He wound his hands around Harry's waist, drawing him in to steal the teen's first kiss. Such innocence to be perverted; the thought causing the demon's eyes to bleed red before they closed.

He released the wizard to allow him to breathe, before leaning back in for more. This time Harry responded less shyly, running firm hands up Crowley's chest and around behind his neck. One hand became adventurous to trace over a newly contoured horn.

A throat cleared from the doorway, and Harry pulled back startled. He didn't get very far, finding himself somehow seated on the kitchen table, while Crowley refused to relinquish his tight hold despite the interruption.

Harry's eyes flew from Sirius, who'd been doing the throat clearing, to Gabriel sitting calmly next to them, eating a chocolate bar. Harry hadn't even heard him enter the room.

"Gabriel!" Harry gasped.

"Don't stop on my account." The blonde grinned. "I was quite enjoying the view."

Harry noticed the candy in the angel's hand. "Is that my last choc-fudge bar?"

"I'll share with you." Gabriel stated around the final mouthful of the treat. He stood forwards, catching Harry's chin with one hand, and invaded the wizard's mouth with a chocolatey kiss.

Sirius, forgotten in the doorway, stepped forward casting an Aguamenti with the power of a garden hose. The amorous trio leapt apart like startled cats.

Seeing his godfather's seriously unimpressed face, Harry gave an excuse of needing a dry shirt and ran for it. Sirius kept his eye on the two demi-immortals while Harry retreated.

"I think it's time we three had a little chat."


"There was a prophesy about this you know?" Gabriel informed his brother while they partook in some 'Angel Time'; aka a mutual wing grooming session.

The two angels had spent the morning learning how to make their wings tangible, now that they knew it was possible to do so. They'd been Officially Welcomed into the Fae Courts via letter borne by a uniformed messenger/guide, who turned out to be a High Elf-Faery hybrid. The man hadn't stayed for very long, being leery of all the human wizards present. He delivered the letter and a few bottles of Faery-made absinthe from his family's distillery, gave an extremely fast paced overview of Fae law and society, hit on a rather uncomfortable Remus, and was gone in what looked like a sprinkling of sunlight.

Since Harry was still in a strop about all his choc-fudge bars having been eaten, Gabriel was left on Castiel-sitting duty, making sure the younger angel stayed at Grimmauld Place. The Winchester brothers had decided to continue their lives as Hunters, except they could get paid this time through bounties and selling potions ingredients. They were determined however, on not bringing Castiel with them until the angel had figured out what abilities he had in this dimension and how to use them. The first time he'd tried to fly to the potions lab in the basement, Castiel had ended up in the crawlspace of a house two counties away. He had made it back without problem though, so the issue required further testing.

"Prophesy about wing grooming?" Castiel asked, momentarily rising out of his preening haze.

"No." Gabriel laughed, "Though that would be funny if there was. The one about the Azrael, it's about this collision."

"I do not know that one."

"Ah. I don't remember the whole thing, but it involved 'the coming of the Azrael'. Michael figured 'Azrael' was a title, rather than an angel's name." The Trickster continued talking as he straightened feathers and tended to the hardest to reach areas of his brother's wings.

He was actually a little jealous of Castiel's wingspan. Built like a bat's wing, from shoulder joint to furthest fingertip, the dark grey-brown feathered wings were just over two and half metres each. Gabriel's own just barely reached six foot, or 183cm for the metrically minded.

Of course, Gabriel was quite a bit shorter than Castiel, so having any longer wings would look ridiculous. The archangel knew he had the younger angel beat on colour (nothing beat his multi-tonal gold) and number (six perfectly blended wings versus Castiel's two). In his own opinion that made Gabriel still the more awesome of the two of them.

"Turns out to be a whole family line, and not just the one." He continued as Castiel hummed contently. "I asked Harry why his father wasn't working for Death, and he told me that the last five or six generations of Potters had been dedicated to Amathaon, God of Agriculture. So the only reason Death took any notice of what was going on, was our arrival here. He'd lost a branch of the Peverell bloodline centuries ago, and only now realised it. Yet he's blackmailed us into fixing the effects of his inattention. How rude is that?"

His only response was a light snore.

"How rude are you? Didn't even groom the tricky bits for me, and I've got more of them." The blonde sulked.

Gabriel stood and stretched, leaving Castiel to sleep where he was sat on the floor, head resting on the seat of the squashy armchair that inhabited a corner of the room the younger angel shared. Gabriel reached out to nab the shade off a nearby lamp, and carefully placed it gently on the sleeping angel's head. Somewhat vindicated, the ascending demi-god left to hunt down the fudge Harry had received via owl that morning from his friend's mother. The evil little wizard had hidden it from him somewhere, and was refusing to share.

Hello everyone. Sorry there was a bit of a wait for this chapter - my muse was hiding under a rock. I was able to use the wonderful Reviewers' comments to lure it out again. Thanks too, Followers and people who fav'd.  

You can thank Emerald Falcon & their H/G/C fic 'Puppy Love' for the word 'demony'.

Don't forget to pm me shenanigan & prank ideas. Or even just a situation you's like to see the SPN gang caught up in. 



Chapter Text



Umm... Gabriel's butt makes an appearance, if that will soothe your tempers from the long wait?


You're just hurting yourself, you know." Sirius stated upon seeing his godson stumble into the kitchen at a truly ungodly hour yet again.

"Gotta get used to it before school starts up again anyway." Harry answered around a face splitting yawn.

"It's still July." Sirius deadpanned. "You've got another whole month before Hogwarts."

Harry shrugged and sat wearily next to his godfather. "It's not like you're sleeping either." He muttered.

"I spent twelve years in Azkaban." The wizard argued. "My brain's not growing anymore either."

"I saw Cedric killed by Voldemort, then was abandoned at the Dursley's without help or anyone to talk to." The teen rebutted obstinately. "And weren't you warning off Gabe and Crowley just the other day?"

"Nah, I threatened them just enough so that they'll behave." Sirius brushed the question off. "They were mostly trying to convince me to contract you actually."

"I don't reckon that'd be something you want. I rejected the contract my parents made. And James made sure Mr and Mrs Potter never got further than presenting the idea of a contract. Helps that he chose Lilly right from the start and wouldn't accept any other."

"Yeah, but… I mean, I kinda like the idea though. They care for me and like me just for me, not The-Boy-Who-Lived, which even Ron and Hermione didn't do to start with. Yes, they both have their dick-moments, and I'm certainly not perfect either; but I think I'd like a secured contract." Harry quietly admitted.

"Pfft. You're still young." The older wizard scoffed. "You'll change your mind once you see all the lads and ladies begging for your attention back at Hogwarts. It's just a fleeting attachment since you're stuck in this mausoleum."

"I seriously doubt that." Harry disagreed. "What one earth would I have in common with any of them? Who's never even seen Voldemort, much less fought him. They're all just stupid kids who have no idea of the real world."

"You're a kid still Harry." Sirius stated seriously.

"No, I'm not. I never was 'just a kid'. First I was the Freak-Under-the-Stairs, now I'm The-Boy-Who-Lived – not much room for a childhood there. And you know this. So actually listen to me when I tell you something and not just brush me off because 'James didn't do that' or 'Dumbledore says so' or even just comparing me to a regular kid. Could you at least respect me enough as my own person to consider my thoughts and opinions?" The teen ranted, trying to keep his temper contained, knowing Sirius would be even less likely to listen if he shouted.

"Look, Harry, you think you want to be with these blokes for ever and ever right now, but it's just puppy-love. You'll meet someone else and forget all about them. You get married now and you'll regret it for the rest of your life. Albus assured me that," He was cut off mid-sentence.

"You talked to Dumbledore about this?" Harry nearly screeched. "This has nothing to do with him!"

"I'm new to this parenting thing, I just wanted a little advice." Sirius defended himself.

"You mean you're letting a manipulative old man who can't even look me in the eye, do your thinking for you. Since you're just as much a sheep as the people who are believing Fudge." Harry spat, rising from his seat. "Don't know why I bother trying to talk to you."

The young wizard stalked from the kitchen, but made sure to keep his steps light on the stairs and in the hallways. His being in a foul mood didn't mean everyone else had to have their sleep disturbed.

Harry stopped and loitered outside of the only room with a Queen Size bed on the second floor. Crowley had called dibs on the room on the first night, and Gabriel had since relocated there after Harry's hissy-fit had him moving to the third floor.

Eventually the wizard decided that he really did need more sleep, and possibly a bit of cuddling. Besides keeping the nightmares at bay, the demon and demi-god really did look after him like he wasn't an unwanted burden, and he felt like he could just be Harry and not the brave Griffindor hero.

Quietly as possible, Harry slipped through the doorway. He smiled to himself seeing Gabriel sprawled across most of the bed, leaving only a small bit at the side closest to the door for Crowley. The teen absently patted Growly as he tiptoed around the foot of the bed, the hellhound contently resting on the pile of previously cursed robes the canine had torn to shreds in a hilarious, but rather one-sided battle.
The blankets were being held up by a half awake Archangel by the time Harry reached the far side of the bed.

"Sorry if I woke you." Harry whispered, slipping under the covers and wriggling into Gabriel's embrace. The man replied with a sleepy kiss to Harry's forehead, and returned to the land of nod.

Harry relaxed into the comfortable mattress and closed his eyes. Tension he didn't realise he was carrying slowly eased out of his shoulders as Harry adjusted to the sounds of breathing from the room's other occupants. Maybe it was time he let go of his stubbornness and moved into Crowley's room like he and Gabe had been offering. As an added bonus it would probably annoy Dumbledore.



Hermione Granger rushed through the floo between the Burrow and 12 Grimmauld Place. She hadn't seen one of her best friends since school let out for the holidays, and his recent letters had been horribly uninformative. Very eye-opening on how Harry must have been feeling earlier in the summer, but horribly uninformative all the same.

The part that really made Hermione feel like the worst friend ever was when Ron, of all people, pointed out that not only had the dark-haired wizard copied straight from their letters to him, he had reason to be careful since London to Ottery St Catchpole was further for an owl to fly than London to Surrey. That had really stopped Hermione's lecturing in its tracks.

So now the witch was on a mission to apologise to Harry. And then interrogate him on what he's been up to, and what his dimensionally-challenged troupe were like.

The kitchen of Order HQ was silent and empty, so Hermione began her search for Harry in the main open parts of the house. The only person she found was Sirius, napping in the drawing room as Padfoot. Too impatient to wait around for the boy to make his appearance and hearing Mrs Weasley and her kids arriving in the kitchen, Hermione figured that waking all the remaining occupants of the house for breakfast would be the quickest method to locate her friend.

The first bedroom had a single occupant in one of the beds, who threw a knife into the wall near the witch's head upon being startled awake.

The second room had an already awake and dressed man with wings and bright blue eyes who informed Hermione that it was considered rude to enter someone's bedroom without first being invited, even if you did knock; 'Dean' had told him so.

The next bedroom, that she'd expected Harry to be in, showed no signs of habitation save for a pile of pink glitter on the floor. Both Sirius' and Regulus' rooms were empty as well, so that left only the room Mr and Mrs Weasley had been using, since the third floor was still largely uninhabitable. With a sigh, Hermione knocked on the door, and poked her head in.

"What?" Came the snappish response from the man closest to the door. He sat up to face the girl, exposing a bare chest, letting the blankets fall to his lap. "It's barely passed seven in the bleeding morning. This had better be important." The man had short dark hair and piercing eyes, with black horns and fingernails giving away a demonic heritage.

"Umm. Breakfast's ready." Hermione announced nervously, faced with an irritated and possibly naked man. "And have you seen my friend Harry?" She rushed out.

Crowley rubbed his face with his hands, and looked to his bed partners. Somehow Harry had ended up in the middle of the bed, despite starting out on the far side.

"Harry luv, some crazy haired bint wants to see you."

Harry made an indistinct 'umph' sound as the three wings he was buried under became suddenly tangible, and therefore heavy.

"Really Gabriel? Harry's not a cuddly toy, but you do have to share him." The demon sighed, reaching out to shove at the angel's wings.

"My cuddly wizard." Gabriel complained, squeezing said wizard when he tried to sit up.

"The Weasley's are here Gabe. You know, the pranking twins I told you about." Harry gasped out from his imprisoned position.

"Aha! It's Trickster time!" Gabriel finally let go of Harry, and jumped out of bed in one fluid movement. Completely bare-arsed naked.

Harry tried to smother himself with a pillow. Crowley sat back to enjoy the view. Hermione squeaked and slapped her hands over her eyes – that'd teach her for not listening to the blue-eyed angel earlier.



Sorry about the wait - I shall endeavour to improve.


Chapter Text



Harry hadn't even made it all the way to the kitchen before Hermione caught back up with him. He was glad he'd held off on yelling at her on sight, as apparently his pointed letters had done the trick and the girl apologised. Now though, came the interrogation.

"And what were you doing this morning, in bed with two naked men?"

That last question came just as Harry opened the kitchen door. The breakfast table ruckus stopped abruptly. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ginny halt her rush to greet him and the girl's face drop. Mentally the boy-wizard shrugged; Ginny always was a bit weird anyway.

"Dirty man-sex." Harry answered Hermione without thinking. Realising just what had come out of his mouth, and around whom, Harry blushed furiously and hurried to the nearest open seat. His new friends, it seems, were a bad influence.

The more permanent residents of Grimmauld Place fell about laughing (Gabe and Sirius) or some combination of an entertained smirk and chuckling (everyone else). The surrounding Weasleys seemed mostly amused but a little confused as to Harry's seriousness.

Finally the eating and regular conversation resumed enough that Hermione was distracted discussing muggle appliances with Mr Weasley, and was no longer lambasting Harry for his earlier crude joke.

"I'm a Crossroads Demon. The King of Crossroads demons, actually." Crowley was explaining to a curios Ginny. "That means I'm the one you call on to have your deepest, darkest dreams turned into reality."

"Like a djinn?" Ron butted in.

"Hardly. Djinn come to me for the jobs they can't do." The demon boasted. "You want love? Anyone can provide a Love Potion, but I make their change of heart permanent and un-noticeable. You want money? I'll make you your very own money tree. You miss your dearly departed loved one? I'll pluck them out of the afterlife and give them back to you. Of course, that sort of mojo is very energy intensive, and I don't work for free after all."

Both Ron and Ginny's hopeful expressions fell.

"Must be some pretty powerful Sacrificial Magic." Bill added in his two cents. "What's the cost of something like that? For the one doing the asking?"

"It's Soul Magic actually. You get ten years with your heart's desire, I get your soul as payment in the end." Crowley grinned and flashed red eyes.


"I could do something about the guy for you, buuuttt I don't have my God-powers right now." Gabriel was complaining to Fred and George, who were wanting Loki's help with their Ludo Bagman issue. "Back in my home dimension it was just, *click* now that abusive asshole's being pummelled by the Hulk; *click* a whole town is stuck in a time loop without anyone else noticing; *click* the Winchesters are in TV Land claiming they have genital herpes. I'd love to help you out, but right now I can't even materialise some chocolate."

"All I need is a few rituals and some fabulous new devotees, and Loki will be back in the game. You help me, I help you." While Gabriel worked on convincing the Weasley twins to become his first new, blood-sworn devotees, Harry retrieved his hidden fudge and presented a few squares to the sugar deprived ex-archangel.

"And this is one of the reasons Harribel is my favourite wizard." The blonde interrupted himself to pull Harry into his lap. Harry's protests of not using his full name were ignored.

"Hmm. You boys are really lucky," He turned back to the twins, "Your Mom makes fantastic fudge. All offerings to me should be some sort of sugar. Fudge like this is more than acceptable."


The meal concluded with Bill whisking away his two youngest siblings for a serious talk on why one should never sell their souls for any reason, and Gabriel taking off with Fred and George for 'serious Trickster Business'. Said business probably involved a lot of joke planning, prank reminiscing and arranging the particulars of the dedication ritual. Harry was left to show Hermione to the library, and what stacks were safe to take books from.

"So why you guys over here today anyway?" Harry asked. "Not that I'm unhappy to see you and Ron or anything."

"Tomorrow's your birthday. Mrs Weasley wanted to get the food and cake started for your party, since there's going to be so many people. And also to make sure all you men are cleaning up after yourselves. Honestly I think she's a little surprised that the place is actually cleaner than before we returned to the Burrow."

Harry froze mid-way up the staircase at the mention of his birthday, while Hermione continued walking and talking.

"She doesn't need to do all of that." Harry protested. "I don't need a party. Honest!"

"Oh Harry," The girl sighed. "She wants to throw you a party. And everyone wants to come to it, so just let everyone celebrate having you in their lives. I bet Sirius already told your new friends about your birthday too, so you've got nothing to worry about there either. Just be happy about actually having a birthday party for once. Now come on and show me what books I read."


Mrs Weasley was right to have started her food prep the day before. Wizards and witches belonging to the Order kept turning up, most of whom Harry had never met before. Hermione also, was right in that Sirius had given all the Grimmauld residents a heads-up about Harry's birthday. He had received birthday wishes from them all at breakfast, since his bed partners had allowed him to sleep in in honour of the occasion.

Castiel's confused sounding birthday greeting was somehow even more amusing than Gabriel's handful of neon confetti shaped like tiny owls. Sam and Dean also managed to return from their hunt in time for lunch and birthday cake.

Harry worried a little, until Sam reassured him that they'd finished the case in good time, and the party had in no way inconvenienced them. Castiel especially seemed please at the Winchester's return, and grilled them for details of their hunt – a pair of rogue goblins on the lam after being caught profiting from stolen goods. Oddly enough, the Goblin Nation pay more for severed heads than for whole, live criminals. Their 'no second chances' judicial system was really the only thing Dean liked about the beings.

Eventually the parade of nosy, gawking Order members got too much for Harry, and he retreated from the constant stares to the library. Only Bobby reading in his usual armchair and Crowley fiddling with his phone were present, which was a relief to the wizard. Spending one's childhood locked in a cupboard did not help develop an extrovert personality.

Crowley looked up hearing Harry approach and offered a half-smile to the reclusive teen. The demon stood, leaving his phone on the table to play music, and grabbed Harry into a traditional waltz position.

"The first step is the one you believe in," Crowley sang along while leading the first step. "The second one might be profound." He followed with the second step, before taking off leading the wizard through the dance.

"Eye's up, luv. Or am I not attractive enough you need to look at my shoes?" Crowley nudged Harry when the teen tried to watch his feet.

"What? That's not…" Harry was cut off by a spin. "I'm not very good at dancing." He muttered.

"Good thing I'm more than proficient enough for the both of us."

Crowley spun Harry out and back in so the teen's back was pressed to his front. He cheekily pressed a kiss to the side of Harry's neck, then spun him out again and back into the waltz.

"So is there anything you can't do?" Harry asked, a little breathless. "Business, law, dancing…"

"When you live a long time, you have the time to learn." Crowley calmly replied, effortlessly leading Harry around the room. "Though I have yet to pick up ice skating. It's just never interested me."

"Want to bet Gabriel can figure skate?" Harry laughed.

"I would not be surprised."

They ignored the flash of Bobby using Crowley's phone to take a photo. 

. I'm sorry!!! 
Just some place setting, and a bit of Harry/Crowley.  If anyone's interested the song mentioned/quoted is 'I'll Follow You' by Shinedown.
As always, Thank you reviewers!! You help me to keep going and not get distracted (as much).


Chapter Text



McGonagall was the one to bring Harry his school letter. Apparently it was supposed to be Snape attending to the task, but the man had been caught by Bobby fighting with Sirius in front of Harry and his school friends. The two men had been given a thorough tongue-lashing on how ridiculous the were acting, how they'd find their asses full of buck-shot if he saw them going at it again, and were called 'idjits' no less than four times. The potions master had since refused to return to HQ.

Sirius only found Snape's absence funny until Bobby lit into him about alienating his own allies because a toddler has more common sense than him.

The Hogwarts letter, however, meant shopping. Not only was it one of Harry's least favourite pass times, Dean and Crowley had decided that as Harry's new, if strange and dysfunctional, family they were banding together to get rid of Dudley's castoffs.

The teen wasn't so worried about Dean, whose style leaned heavily towards the practical; Crowley however, was a complete clotheshorse. The man had been complaining for weeks about having untailored trousers and 'off-the-rack' shirts.

"How did you go shopping with horns?" Harry's curiosity about the demon's earlier forays finally overwhelmed him. After all, none of the teen's new family liked having wizard spells cast on them. Dean had even gone as far as getting another dashboard and converting his car to make it road legal, just so 'Baby' wouldn't need the 'Notice-me-not' concealing spells.

"Pretend to be a cosplayer." Crowley shrugged. "Pose for photos when asked, and no one thinks anything much of it."

"Excellent. Cas and I are coming too then." Gabriel butted in. "We should dress up Harry somehow too, so he'll fit right in with us."

Said teen protested. Loudly.

"He'd make an adorable cat-boy!" The demi-god announced, despite Harry's protestations and arm flailing.

"Indeed he would." Crowley agreed. "However, he can't try pants on with a tail. We'll have to shelve that fantasy for later."

"Who's getting a tail?" Sirius asked, walking into the conversation and thankfully only hearing part.

"Nobody." Harry interjected.

"Sirius! How shall we dress our favourite teen wizard for the foray into non-magic London?" Gabriel turned to the other wizard, pulling Harry right close into Sirius' view. "We're going as cosplayers since wizard spells are itchy."

"Hmm." Sirius mused, walking a circle around his godson. "He'd make a cute puppy."

"No. No dressing me up as an animal! What is with everyone and the animals today?" Harry objected. "Besides, you aren't dressing up Sam and Dean, so why do I have to?"

"Oh they are. The poor shmucks just don't know it yet." Gabriel waved aside the issue. "And when they protest, I'll sic Cas on them."

"Great. I'm doomed to be a dress-up doll because the big, bad Hunters are powerless against an angel giving the puppy-dog eyes." The teen groaned dramatically. "Totally doomed."


In the end, Harry had his ears transfigured, was given a hair growth potion and a pair of tights. Sam was also dressed as a High Elf, while Dean was given a pair of horns and ruby-red eyes despite the brothers' clear reluctance. Gabriel and Castiel just had to keep their wing tangible, and try not to knock out innocent pedestrians.

Turns out, Harry's shopping was the least problematic part of the day. High street and the optometrist were busy but straightforward, and the two disguised hunters kept everyone in line well enough.

Even being stopped for photos every now and again wasn't so bad. Especially since people were both asking first, and then had no idea Harry was actually a famous wizard. All told, the angels and demons were asked for photos the most, so Harry revelled in his partial anonymity.


The second most stressful part of the day for Harry was the excursion to Harrods. Crowley insisted on being fitted for at least one new suit, since the investments of his cut of Greyback's bounty were showing great returns. Apparently the mortal world in the travellers' home dimension in the 1990's was incredibly similar to the current muggle world. The savvy demon was capitalising on it.

Crowley making the Men's Wear attendant cry from stress was hardly the part that concerned Harry the most - Once inside, Gabriel had vanished. How they managed to lose a loud, generally obnoxious man with a twelve-foot wingspan was something the teen was rather puzzled about. Then again, considering the general noise level of the entire group Harry was trying to corral, maybe it wasn't too surprising Gabriel had managed to sneak away.

Leaving Crowley in the harassed and somewhat panicked hands of the store tailor, Harry instructed Sam, Cas and Dean to stay together, and out of trouble preferably, while the teen went to hunt down the wayward demi-god.

Gabriel was luckily where Harry expected him, on the next floor up, right in the middle of rearranging the displays of chocolates, sweets and biscuits. Instead of being arranged by type, and then marketing budget, they'd been re-arranged by packet colour, so when you stepped back and viewed the shelves as a whole they spelled out rude words.

"Gabe, really?"

"Shh. Artist at work." The delinquent angel replied as he continued his task. Harry face-palmed.

"There. Now we can go." Gabriel dusted his hands off in a satisfied manner.

"You picked what you wanted?" Harry asked, ignoring the swearing employee behind them. "And stayed in budget?"

The blonde nodded and waved his over-full hand basket.

"I can't believe I'm reduced to actually buying all my candy!" He wailed despondently. "And keeping to a budget! I'm traumatised you know! I'll probably develop mental problems, my distress is so great."

"You mean you don't already have mental problems?" Dean quipped, joining the two as they made their way back to Crowley.

"Dean! Where are the other two?" Harry worried immediately, seeing the hunter on his own.

"Calm down kid, we're not clueless wizards. Sam and Cas are both adults who can look after themselves." Dean replied.

"No, you're a pair of hunters not used to the sheer amount of people in London, and an angel who has already talked back to the train loudspeaker, stopped in the middle of the footpath because a lizard was crossing and wandered off after a stray dog."

"They're fine." Dean assured. "Sammy's geeking out in Technology on the third floor and Cas hasn't moved from Men's Wear since he found himself a new trench coat. It's black, if you were wondering."


The number one worst part of the day, in Harry's opinion, was navigating the group through public transport. Since they were going into London proper with extremely limited parking, they'd elected to leave the Impala at Grimmauld. This left the group with walking and the London public transport system.

Harry had never really appreciated just how expressive Gabriel and Castiel were with their wings, until people were in danger of having their eye taken out should one of the two gesture too widely. When a young girl startled the angels by touching their wings unexpectedly, Harry was treated to the amusing sight of Gabe and Cas fluffing out their feathers in alarm, much like Hedwig does when upset. Not wanting to face their combined retribution, the teen declined to comment when asked what he was laughing at.

"Dean?" Harry probed as their current bus headed towards Charring Cross Road and the Leaky Cauldron. "How did you know what Cas was feeling before, when you couldn't see his wings?"

"I don't know. I just learned." The man answered after contemplating a moment.

"It's because they 'have a more profound bond'." Sam Leaned in from the seat behind to joke.

"It's not like that, bitch." Dean pushed his brother back with one hand over the other's face.

"Jerk." Sam laughed. The old lady in the seat next to Sam gave the two hunters the stink-eye. It was entirely ineffective.

"This bus is changing destination." Came a loudspeaker announcement. Harry waited, but there was no further information.

"Where are we headed now?" Castiel leaned in from his place stood in the aisle.

Harry shrugged. "Somewhere close to Charring Cross. The traffic must be blocked up on the usual route."

"I do not like this. I will meet you at Headquarters." The angel frowned, then disappeared with the sound of wings. Dean grabbed Harry so he wouldn't jump up and attract attention.

"Just play it cool. Don't make a fuss, and no one's going to know something's up. They'll just think he got off at another stop." The man murmured, while Harry took deep breaths and tried to calm himself.

"You're not supposed to apparate in front of muggles! Or whatever it is Cas did." Harry hissed back, checking on Crowley and Gabriel standing in the aisle. Sam joined them to let another elderly woman have his seat. "And where did he go? Will he be alright?"

"Crowds of humans confuse Cas sometimes. He said he'd see us at HQ, so that's probably where he's gone. He's a Warrior of the Lord, he'll be fine." Dean reassured. "Now this sounds like our stop; take us magic shopping elf-prince."

Ummm... I have no excuses. 
You can thank Chloe on AO3 for the idea of a Harrods trip and the 'This bus is changing destination'.
Thank you commenters, and for the kudos.


Chapter Text





While Harry drove everyone around him crazy with his worrying, Castiel found himself wandering around a muggle wildlife rescue in Ireland. Families were walking around, watching and sometimes interacting with the animals, under the strict guidance of the rescue park operators. The angel joined one of the tour groups for a while, before splitting off on his own to talk with the animals. He may be in a different realm currently, but that was no excuse to slack off. If these animals weren't being treated correctly, he would 'rectify' the situation.

Animals made much more sense than humans, anyway.




Dean came to a startling realisation watching over Harry going about his school shopping. While Sammy was repeatedly distracted by the magical goings on of Diagon Alley, the older hunter, finally released from his demon cosplay, kept his twitchy hunter reactions under control by observing the familiar interactions of the Troublesome Trio – Gabriel, Crowley and Harry.

Dean, like most everyone, had assumed that Crowley was the 'top dog' so to speak, in the relationship. The whole plan had been his idea to begin with, then the man spent his time managing his own, and Harry and Gabriel's finances and investments. Crowley just always seemed to be the one in absolute control of himself and everything surrounding him.

Several others were of the opinion that Harry was the one in charge, having his two partners wrapped around his little fingers. Harry may have been the youngest of the three, yet he seemed to be forever rounding up and checking in on Gabriel and Crowley. He seemed the quintessential cute, little twink who had the others bending over backwards for him with just a crooked smile, while he guided them around the new world they were living in.

No one had betted on Gabriel.

But Dean was seeing it now. Gabriel, in all his ridiculousness was very much the head of their little triangle. The ex-archangel was the one guiding the others' decisions and actions, in such a subtle way that his own brand of irreverent humour distracted outsiders from the true dynamics of the relationship. Any remaining tells were covered by Harry and Crowley's own actions.

Like the demon's compulsive organising - Crowley was a god-send with clearing out the Black townhouse and keeping everyone to task (he also had one hell of an eye for what was actually worth some money, and what wasn't). Harry had complained, upon moving into the same bedroom as Crowley, that the demon had insisted on the teen fully unpacking his school trunk and ordering his clothes and old textbooks a particular way in the wardrobe and library shelves. On one occasion Dean had spotted Crowley, after stealing their resident sugar-nut's M&M's, organise and then then eat the chocolates according to colour and number - individuals first, then pairs by colour. He spent more time arranging the chocolates across the table, then he did eating them.

And of course, adorably neurotic Harry was very much a product of his defective upbringing. The boy worried incessantly about everyone else's well-being while neglecting his own, thanks to those horrid relatives of his devaluing the kid's very existence. That's not to say the wizards were in any way better - Harry was so used to running around cleaning up the messes of his teachers and other adults that unconsciously, everyone who wasn't Harry was deemed somewhat mentally incompetent. The kid didn't realise it, and didn't consciously think it, but his actions clearly said it to anyone who looked close enough; aka three hunters, two angels and a demon.

This close attention also exposed that Harry was the most possessive one in the relationship, though this often spread out to include the teen wizard's 'family group'. When Gabriel was paying too much attention to someone else, Harry would bring him candy and be rewarded with cuddles and join the conversation; when Harry caught particularly attractive people making moves on Crowley, they suddenly became the victims of petty and humiliating pranks that left the demon smirking; when that crazy haired friend of Harry's would not stop going on about how fascinating the dimension travellers were, Harry found her somewhere else to be quick-smart, even though he totally agreed with her.

And all of it was noticed, allowed even sometimes encouraged by Gabriel, who didn't seem to mind at all. And the demon and wizard easily, automatically followed the ex-archangel's lead, as though their relationship dynamics were a forgone conclusion.

It was honestly quite fascinating watching the trio's interactions. More interesting then school shopping at any rate. After all, even buying items for a magical school, was still school shopping.

"Why are you watching us with such an expression?" Crowley interrupted Dean's avid, if incredulous observations. "I can understand looking at Harry and Gabe like that, but I'm rather more deserving of looks of awe and sovereign devotion." Dean snorted.

"Shouldn't you be defending the honour of your boy-toys or something?"

"They're extra-terrestrials to me, mate." The demon shrugged with a grin. "And I'm pretty sure Harry and I are Feathers' boy-toys. He's the cougar, here."

"Yeah, is that why he's the boss of your ménage-a-trios?" The blonde man baited in an attempt to get more information out of the other. "Never thought the King of the Crossroads would be taking orders from an angel."

"It's just the natural order of things, luv." Crowley ignored the attempt to rile him up, (who knows what those barely functional hunters would do with insider information like that) and returned to where Harry had finished selecting potions ingredients. Gabriel meanwhile, was directing a handful of re-grown billywigs to repeatedly sting Zacharias Smith and his equally arrogant parents. The small family were stuck floating uncontrollably some four feet off the ground, and were making an incredible mess of the shop that the Smiths would end up having to pay for. No less than what they deserved for treating Harry the way they did.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Dean called loudly after Crowley, throwing his hands up in the air and accidentally smacking a wildly pin wheeling Zacharias Smith in the face.

Sam sent the infamous 'bitch-face' in his direction when Dean just watched the boy crash into another display. The older hunter shrugged, figuring the annoying kid probably deserved it anyway.



I spent forever writing and re-working, and I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter... Thoughts?? The next one has a few more funnies in it, and also moves the story plot forward.

Thanks for reading, commenting, and kudos. 


Chapter Text


"How can you be sure? Cas isn't immortal here, remember?" Harry argued loudly. The teenaged wizard and his entourage had arrived back at Grimmauld Place to find that Castiel had yet to return to Order HQ.

"He wasn't immortal before either. I had to watch Lucifer explode him into tiny bits just a few minutes before we all landed, suddenly alive, in your street." Dean rebutted, unintentionally making the wizard in front of him pale further.

"But!" The man recovered, "You don't have Lucifer running around here, and there really isn't much that can hurt a millions-of-years-old angel. I mean, give the guy some credit, Kid. Cas isn't a complete moron."

"I don't think Cas is a moron!" Harry snapped. Dean looked unconvinced since to him, actions spoke louder than words and he'd been intently observing the teen all day. "And we don't have Satan running around, but there's Death Eaters out there, and ordinary muggle criminals, and car accidents kill people every day. And you guys with magic don't have the same abilities anymore. You're even not taking Cas hunting with you because of it, but you're still telling me off for being justifiably concerned."

"He's got you there." Crowley commented, tipping his glass of pilfered fire-whiskey towards Dean. The demon was having way too much fun watching the apparently adult hunter lose an argument with a fifteen year old.

Also, Harry's back and forth pacing allowed the man plenty of ogling opportunities.

"That's hunting dangerous creatures. Not going to a park or some shit."

"Except for, you know, the people hunting anyone associated with me? Death Eaters don't care if there's hundreds of witnesses to what they do, and no matter what powers you have, the Unforgivables affect everyone." Harry briefly stopped his pacing to face Dean and gesticulate wildly.

Mid-rant, Castiel near silently reappeared.

"What are they arguing about?" The angel quietly asked his older brother, who was leaning against the back wall of the kitchen, watching the spectacle, sucking on a lollipop.

"You." Gabriel answered at a normal volume, attracting the arguing duo's attention.

"Castiel!" The angel was greeted.

"Where were you? Are you okay?" Harry rushed up and grabbed onto the man in a hug, relived to see him safe and unmolested by Death Eaters.

"Why is Hedwig on your shoulder?" Dean asked. This earned him a confused and an incredulous expression from Castiel and Harry respectively.

"That's not Hedwig. It looks nothing like her." The teen corrected. Dean squinted closely at the not-Hedwig owl. The near-pure white snowy owl still looked like the teen's pet to him. He shrugged.

"I have made a friend." Castiel announced, as though this statement explained everything. "He wishes to be introduced to Miss Hedwig."

"I suppose if she wants to meet him…" Harry agreed, a little bemused. "Where did your new friend come from, exactly?"

"A wildlife refuge in southern Ireland."

"You can't steal owls from wildlife rescues!" The teen squeaked.

"I did not steal. This owl wished to leave with me." Castiel replied, tilting his head to the side. The owl copied the action.

"You didn't bring the rest of the animals, right?" Dean butted in, much more used to rolling with the angel's quirks than the wizard.

"Of course not. They were very content with their treatment and living conditions."

"Well that's alright then." The blonde shoed Cas away to continue playing his playing owl matchmaker. It was a much less dangerous hobby then some he could have taken up.

"See, told you he was fine." Dean snuck in the last word, taking his leave to go detail Baby. Mud from England's near constant rain had dried where it splashed up the Impala's side during the last hunt.

Harry was left standing in the kitchen, arms crossed across his chest, finally calming down from his state of agitation now he knew where everyone from his new family unit was.

Gabriel walked up right behind the teen. Sliding one arm around his chest and the other around Harry's waist. The blonde rubbed the side of his face and neck against Harry's head.

"What are you doing?" The wizard sighed.

"Getting the Cas scent off you." Gabriel responded as though this was a perfectly reasonable thing to be doing. Harry laughed.

"I thought I was the possessive one?"

"Nope. Just the most obvious about it." Gabriel grinned, making Harry snicker and quietly agree.



Crowley was taking his turn 'marking his territory' as it were. Just in a much less socially acceptable manner than Gabriel had earlier.

The man's shirt was hanging unbuttoned from his shoulders as he ravished the writhing, near naked teen laying below him. Harry, himself, was rather agreeable to their current state, moaning as Crowley ground down against him.

The teen was certainly aware of the demon's own arousal, as he could feel the hard, incredibly large organ through Crowley's clothes and his own underwear, every time he thrust his hips up for friction.

Harry was privately of the opinion that Crowley's dick could, and should be classed as a lethal weapon. It was the hottest thing he'd ever laid hands on, and the scariest. How 5'5" Gabriel could take the organ in without dying seemingly defied the laws of physics. Harry was both excited-anxious and scared-anxious to learn that magic trick.

Currently more the former when Crowley bit just 'there' on Harry's neck, and rolled his hips just like 'that'. Harry let out a whimper, wanting more skin contact, and made a desperate grab for the man's belt.

Unnoticed by the two on the bed, the door opened silently, and a blonde head poked into the room. The head was followed by the peaks of three golden hued wings, and a single raised arm. A grin crossed the voyeur's face.




Sorry I took a bit of a hiatus there. New job and other RL things. However, I have already started on the next chapter, so keep your fingers crossed.
Thanks lovely reviewers, kudos, and followers

- Vengeance

Chapter Text



Madame Poppy Pomphrey dashed through the floo connection from her home, where she'd been enjoying the remainder of her summer holidays. The one good thing about being a School Medi-witch was those few precious weeks of summer when she wasn't spending all her waking hours, and some she should have been sleeping, reverse engineering teenage stupidity.

Some years, especially those with Potters attending Hogwarts, Poppy felt she would have been less stressed back in her old job working in medical emergency in the Reversal of Accidental Magic Department.

Of course, the ageing Madame had expected, with the Dark Lord back among the corporeal, that she'd be called upon during her precious little down-time to help, un-curse, and/or heal some Order member or another. However, she hadn't expected to be rushing out with her emergency kit just yet.

The green flames spat Poppy out in the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, where she was nodded through by Hestia Jones, and directed to the second floor drawing room. The room was quiet and tense, despite how crowded it was. Upon seeing the medi-witch's stunned visage, Remus carefully made his way over, edging around the elephant in the room.

The literal, living, 8-foot-tall, Borneo Pygmy Elephant.



"W-what?" Poppy stammered, trying to figure out if what she was seeing was real, and if so, what she as a medi-witch was supposed to do about it.

"Don't mind the elephant in the room," Remus reassured the woman, an amused light shining behind his eyes. "Your patient's this way." He directed her down the nearly destroyed hallway.

"We were trying to get it outside at least, until someone could figure out what else to do. The staircase isn't large enough, we found." The werewolf explained glibly. "Here we are."

Madame Pomphrey entered through the half destroyed doorway to a bedroom covered in the tattered, half burned remains of what might have once been a large ornate wooden bed-frame and its associated mattress and bedding.

Amidst the mess was a sadly familiar teenager.

"Mr Potter, just what have you done now?" Poppy sighed, making her way to the boy's side through the debris and pushing a blonde man out of her way. "And why do I have the sinking feeling you're somehow closer involved in this mess than any of us would like, hmm? And the elephant?"

Harry scowled fiercely at his two suitors, who failed entirely to look contrite or abashed in any manner. In fact, Crowley was glaring at Growly who had only just peaked his head out of the wardrobe where he'd hidden from the surprise pachyderm, while the Trickster himself was snickering about 'not mentioning the elephant in the room'.

"It's not my fault at all." Harry argued from his slouched position, careful to avoid moving his visibly broken lower leg.

"You are legally responsible for us and our unfortunate entourage, until we are granted citizenship," The demon couldn't help putting in his two cents worth, "So technically…"

"You were no help before, so don't try to be 'helpful' now." The teenager snarled, leaning forward to point vehemently. Poppy pushed Harry back down when he winced and turned grey from pain.

"Mr Potter! Stay still and tell me what caused this." She demanded, waving a diagnostic over her patient to check for further injury. Considering the pygmy elephant seemed to have somehow originated from this bedroom, Poppy suspected crush injuries at the very least.

Harry floundered wordlessly for a moment. "Well, Crowley and I were laying on the bed,"

"Getting naughty. Without me, might I add?" Gabriel interrupted from over Madame Pomphrey's shoulder. Harry flushed in mortification. The medi-witch skilfully ignored it.

"So that git," The teen pointed at an unrepentant Gabriel, "Grows a bloody elephant from the ivory inlay on the headboard." He then turns to Crowley. "So that idiot starts flinging fire around, as though that's going to make anything better!"

"I told you, I was merely attempting to herd the beast towards the door." The still half-dressed man argued.

"Were not. You were trying to set Gabe on fire in revenge."

Crowley shrugged. "He cock-blocked me with an elephant. He deserved it."

"A Pygmy Elephant, actually." The ex-archangel corrected.

"It's still bloody eight feet tall and weighs three tonnes!"

"And where were you in all of this, Mr Potter?" Madame Pomphrey questioned, raising her voice above the arguing. Her scans had indicated only a nearly healed concussion from previously in the summer, and the broken leg she had noticed earlier.

"I jumped clear of the elephant onto the dresser." Harry clarified.

"You weren't crushed by the animal? No one else was injured?" Harry shook his head in the negative. "Then I'd say your 'friend' was lucky his actions didn't inadvertently kill anyone, and they should both stop making such a ruckus and be grateful this incident wasn't worse." Poppy directed her recriminations at the blonde first, before including Crowley in her formidable look of disapproval as well.

"So how did this injury come about then?" Poppy asked, tipping a pain-relief potion down the boy's throat so she could work on setting his leg.

"After freezing us and the surprise elephant, Harry-darling was so busy shouting at Feathers and myself that he fell off the dresser." Crowley explained, grinning.

Gabriel snorted and looked away amused.

Remus in the doorway snickered.

Harry scowled.

"Only you, Mr Potter. Only you." Poppy sighed.



Short but it amused me none the less.

Any ideas for funny situations for the SPN crew to get themselves into are welcome.

Thanks reviewers, you make me smile and keep me motivated to write.


On a side note - not only did I pass the probationary period and earn my name badge at work, I got a new(er) car this week. :D