Dean swore under his breath, having burned his fingers for the fifth time on the charm. He shook his hand, irritation flooding him, and resisted the urge to throw his wand at the wall of the dorm. Knowing his luck, it'd only snap, and he'd have to pay to get it repaired. Giving up on the physical side of his homework, he grabbed a couple books and made his way down and through the Gryffindor common room. It was damn empty, and he continued on, down winding staircases to The Great didn't know why he was a Gryffindor, sure, he was brave. But he knew ultimately it's because he knew his dad would be proud of him. Finally, proud of his son - a Gryffindor. Sam would join Hogwarts next year, and Dean would be in his fifth year by then -a prefect too, hopefully. After setting out his books, he distracted himself for a while with dragging his quill over the parchment, doodling aimlessly, glancing up when the doors opened and the class walked in. Some kind of study hall lesson, he craned his neck for someone he knew, desperate to get out of doing his work.
Meanwhile, actual prefect Castiel made his way to the Great Hall from the Ravenclaw common room. Dean sighed. It was the great Seeker, Castiel. It was bad enough that he was scared of flying, but he didn't need a Quidditch star to know that. Castiel walked toward the Ravenclaw table, feeling someone's eyes on him. Dean craned his neck, watching as Castiel walked over to sit down, wondering if he should go and sit by him. He sort of knew him, right? They'd spoken a couple of times. He'd watched his games, and he was good. He was jealous, he supposed, but also in awe.. Still deliberating, Dean turned back to gather his parchment and books, and spilled his entire inkwell over his robes, the black ink seeping through and dripping onto the chair and floor. Blushing red, he swore under his breath and hurried to find his wand, supposing that there should be some kind of spell to clean this up quickly. He flipped pages with blackened fingers, searching hurriedly and feeling a few people turn to stare at him as the ink dripped steadily onto the Great Hall floor.
Castiel looked up at the crash. It was the handsome Winchester boy from Gryffindor. Castiel looked down slowly to avoid embarrassing the boy. He must have been a few years younger than Cas, but he had definitely seen his boy around when on prefect duty. He wondered if he should go help. Dean's attempted to find a spell were quashed when he realized that he was leafing through his potions book by accident, and his only progress was staining the pages with black smudges. His cheeks still a fiery red, he reached into his bag and found a packet of tissues, opening a few out to try and soak up the spill, already beginning to stain the wood. He cursed himself internally, deciding that he must be the worst wizard the school had seen. A few titters of laughter went through his audience, and Dean persevered with his tissues, determinedly not looking over at Castiel. He couldn't very well go and sit next to him now.
Castiel got up and walked to Dean. "Evanesco." he muttered and the spilled ink was mopped up. Dean was still bright red, he noticed. He sighed. It was hard enough being a fourth year, let alone one with barely any friends. "Can I sit down?" Castiel found himself asking Dean gently. Dean closed his eyes when he heard Castiel's voice, any hope that he hadn't noticed extinguished with the drying ink. He brought his hands to his eyes, fingers no longer coated black, and nodded sheepishly, moving some of his books aside. "I have to buy some more ink." He commented idly, before nearly rolling his eyes at himself. He had to buy himself some more ink? In what Universe was that the right damn thing to say?
Cas smiled, "Or we can just preform the refilling charm." Cas preformed the spell nonverbally and nodded as an amazing Dean now looked at his full ink well. Dean's brow crinkled in bemusement, and he looked from the inkwell back to Castiel, to his lips, which he hadn't seen move at all.
"Did you.. did you just..?" And if that didn't make him feel just that more inadequate, he thought. He couldn't do his damn charms homework, and Castiel was doing spells without even saying the incantation. "You're really good." He acknowledged, shaking his head a little in disbelief, before looking away, embarrassed by how wet he sounded.
Cas smiled. "You'll learn to do that once you pass your OWL's, if you continue Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Dean laughed rather bitterly, and put the cap back on his inkwell, busying himself with the action. "If I pass my OWLs, you mean. Not sure that's gonna happen right now.."
Cas looked at Dean sympathetically. "I'm sure there are a few subjects you're good at." He lowered his voice further. "You know the herbology professor, Longbottom? I heard he was quite a terrible student himself, and look where he's at now." Cas tried to sound reassuring
"Yeah, but did you hear what he did?" Dean replied, looking around as if the Professor would be stood right behind him. "Back then?" He shook his head. "I think he was good all along. I'm just kinda hopeless." He closed one of his books, and laughed a little embarrassedly, fiddling with a thread of his robes. "Sorry.. I shouldn't.. I mean, you came over to help, right? Thanks. You didn't have to do that."
"You're not at all hopeless...It's Dean, right?" Cas tried to change the subject.
Dean nodded. "And you're Castiel." He backtracked hurriedly, noting that he sounded like a creep. "Sorry.. I've seen a couple of your games."
"Thank you." Castiel said before he realized that Dean hadn't actually complemented him. It was even more awkward considering that Ravenclaw had beaten Gryffindor in the most recent match. Castiel tried to change the topic. "Shal-Shall we go for a walk?"
Dean raised his eyebrows, rather surprised. "Yeah? Yeah, sure." He began to hurriedly pack his books into his satchel, the stopper coming off his inkwell and almost spilling everywhere again, though he caught it at the last moment with a nervous chuckle. Fastening his bag, he swung his legs around the long bench and stood up, feeling a rather familiar fluttering in his walked the grounds at sat by the Lake in silence. Castiel squinted, unsure what to say.
"So, that last game. You really thrashed us." Dean laughed quietly, and shook his head. He didn't know why he'd said 'us'.. though he was a Gryffindor, he'd never even flown a broomstick, never mind been on the team.
Cas squinted again, he supposed Quidditch was a safe topic. "We've been training with a new strategy. It would seem that it was a successful one."
Dean nodded, not wanting to pry any further about the strategy itself. The last thing he wanted was for Castiel to think him a spy for the Gryffindor team. "I can't fly myself." He admitted quietly, and went back to toying with a thread of his robe.
"Have you tried?"
"Not really. My dad thinks I fly." Dean grimaced slightly. "He thinks I'm on the team."
Cas squinted. "Why would you tell him that?"
Dean pursed his lips for a second, but didn't reply, eyes settling on the lake. A few minutes passed. "I don't know." He said finally, a ghost of amusement in his voice.
"You should be honest with your father, Dean."
Dean laughed, and shook his head. "You haven't met my dad." He bumped Castiel's shoulder with his own. "You don't want to."
"Was he a Gryffindor too?"
"Course. And his dad, and his dad.." Dean rolled his eyes. "And they were all perfect. Or that's how I hear it."
"It must be genetic then" Castiel flashed a charming smile to Dean
"It-" Dean began, before catching Castiel's meaning and blushing a deep red, his lips curving up into a shy smile in spite of himself as he looked back at the lake, heart beginning to thump in his chest. "Well.. I don't know about that.." He said quietly after a moment, eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he looked down, a little embarrassed.
"Don't be so hard on yourself Dean"
Dean shrugged, and turned to look at Castiel properly, finally allowing himself to do so. His green eyes settled on the blue, looked up at the mess of black hair, the slight smile on his lips that sent his heart thrumming in his chest. "Thanks." He said eventually, at a loss. "It.. uh.. means a lot coming from you.."
"Thank you" Cas continued to smile. Dean turned back to look at the lake, though he could hear a roaring in his ears, an adrenaline that hadn't been there a moment ago. He tapped a rhythm with his fingers, not sure what to do with himself, his mind in turmoil as he considered that he might 'like' Castiel. Hell, who didn't like Castiel? A comfortable silence fell between them, and Dean was toying with the idea, wondering if he'd got himself into a mess. It was silent for a while. "What are you thinking about?" Castiel finally said.
"Do you date girls?" Dean asked, the words seeming to burst from his lips. He backtracked again, shrugging as if the question was nonchalant. "I mean, I have a friend. She's, uh.. she wanted to know, so.." He shrugged again, and cursed himself, eyes fixing firmly on the lake.
Castiel smiled and looked downwards. "Tell your friend that... that she needs to talk to me herself." he grinned.
"Okay, yeah, I will." Dean nodded fervently, but swore internally, Cas not having answered his question. What the hell was he going to do now? If he got.. rejected.. he'd be a laughing stock. Oh, who was he kidding? He was already a laughing stock. Dean Winchester, the Neville Longbottom of fourth year. Though he supposed he didn't turn out too bad. "Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow evening?" He asked, changing the subject with pink cheeks.
Castiel squinted. "I plan on it, are you?"
"Yeah, I got my permission form." Dean's dad hadn't been keen on the idea, but he'd pleaded with him to sign the damn thing. Promised that he wouldn't stay too long, or drink firewhiskey. Though he figured his dad couldn't say a word about the firewhiskey, what with his own habits. "Can.. Can I.. I mean, are you going there with friends?"
Castiel frowned. "I dont actually have too many friends." he said softly. Why was he admitting this?
"I'll bet you have a couple more than me." Dean replied, feeling rather relieved that Castiel hadn't brushed him off with a huge group of Ravenclaws. He bumped his shoulder again with a smile. "We can go together. You know. If you want.."
Castiel smiled. "I wouldn't mind that"
"Cool. Yeah." Dean leaned back where he sat, a slight smile on his lips. He was keeping it together pretty well, he thought. Was it a date? A date, or just.. a friendship thing? He was suddenly conflicted again, and turned back to Cas, though not entirely sure how to ask /that/.
Castiel suddenly looked at his watch. "Listen Dean, I have to go...but i'll meet you outside the great hall tomorrow at 10?"
Dean was blinking, surprised but nodded, feeling a slight pang that Cas was leaving. "Oh.. yeah, uh sure. 10.." He fiddled with a thread again, this time keeping his eyes on him. "This has been good.. I'm glad we came.."
Castiel had already gotten up. "Me too" he called back as he walked away.
Dean watched him walk for a second, before shouting "Wait!". He ran after him, and gave him a tentative hug. "Thanks." He said quietly, and turned, hurriedly walking back in the other direction, his cheeks beetroot red. Castiel was blushing too, and looked down all the way back to his Common Room
The night passed slowly, far too slowly. Dean couldn't concentrate on his work, couldn't eat at dinner - too busy craning his neck for Castiel, and only drifted off to sleep at night after a long couple of hours staring at the bunk above. They met, as planned the next day. "You look exhausted" Castiel remarked
"Couldn't sleep." Dean replied honestly, though not planning to tell him why.
"Me niether" said Castiel before he could stop himself
"Oh." Dean answered with a slight smile, hoping that his glee wasn't too obvious. He had his permission form folded in his pocket, and fiddled with the edge of the paper. They made their way out together. Handing his form to the Professor on the gate, Dean gave a whoop of excitement as they reached the path together. "Where do you wanna go?" He asked, walking close to Castiel as they walked, excited chatter on all sides of them.
Castiel's eyes gleamed. "Have you ever tried firewhiskey?"
Dean laughed quietly. Of course. The one thing his dad had told him not to do. "No." He answered, his voice a murmur. "Am I gonna?"
"Do you want to?"
"Kinda." They reached the long town, rickety buildings coated with snow and packed with excited students. There was a pub at one end, and Dean gestured to it, tugging Cas along by the crook of his arm.
Cas grinned. "Two" he told the wizard at the door who pointed to the table by the window. Dean nodded at the wizards that looked up at them from their drinks, though he decided that they were more likely looking at Cas. He was more remarkable out of the two of them, anyway.. He caught himself with that thought, and laughed quietly at himself, sitting down in the window. The bartender glanced over, and Dean mimed for 2 firewhiskies, a gesture he'd learned from watching his dad.
"So how are you, Dean?"
"Happy." Dean replied, as the wizard that had showed them to a table brought over the two glasses, both full to the brim with the whiskey. He dug around in his pocket, and handed over a galleon at the man's request. When he'd disappeared, Dean left his hand on the table, turning his one sickle change between his fingers. "How about you, Cas?"
"Me too" Castiel grinned. "You called me Cas," he noted.
"Oh.. yeah." Dean traced the ring of his glass with a finger, frowning up at the other boy. "Would you rather I didn't?"
"No no, I like it."
"Okay. Cas." Dean smiled, and brought the glass to his lips. "This stuff bad?" He asked doubtfully, watching the whiskey swirl and turn on the surface.
"Try it."
Dean took a swallow, and made a quiet, strangled noise in his throat, feeling the burn as it slipped down his throat, and settled into a warmth in his stomach that was.. nice. He took another drink, and set the glass down, nodding at Cas. "I like it." He said, his voice hoarse, before laughing at himself.
"You don't have to force yourself," Cas said gently
"No, it..makes me feel warm." He tilted his chin and gestured at his throat, before rubbing his chest idly. "Can see why my dad likes it so much, I guess." He took another drink, and savoured it this time, the warmth seeping down into his chest in tendrils.
Cas frowns. "Define 'so much.'"
"At least a bottle every other day." Dean shrugged. "It's been like that since my Mom died." He nodded down at Cas' drink, and poked it towards him with his finger. "Aren't you having yours?"
Cas remembered to unscrew his bottle and gave a smile. "Are you okay with that?"
"Nothing I could do if I wasn't."
"You could talk to him.."
"Cas." Dean reached across, and he let his fingers touch Castiel's for just a split second, before pulling his hand back. "Thanks.. But my dad.. you don't know him. He's not.. I mean, you can't just reason with him like that."
Cas gave a nod. "I suppose.." he reasoned.
Dean finished his firewhiskey, the burn in his stomach seeming like it was going to stick around for a while. He wasn't sure whether that was down to the whiskey, or being here with Cas. "You come here often?" He asked, before blushing when he realised that it sounded like a chat up line. "I mean.."
Cas grinned. "Every Hogsmeade trip."
"Bet you've had some good times with this stuff.." Dean murmured, meeting Cas' eyes with a smile. He could only imagine what those good times could consist of..
Cas looked down. "Yeah.."
Dean leaned across the table, a slight grin on his face. "Like what?" He asked, sniggering. "You done anything crazy?"
"No! No.." Cas quickly said. He had to keep his prefect image in tact.
Dean's voice dropped to a whisper, and his fingers ran over his glass again, a smile on his lips. "I don't believe you."
Cas bent closer to the table. "You shouldn't" he winked.
Dean's heart was stuttering in his chest again, and he realised that they were both leaning over the table, only a few inches between them. He didn't want to move back, even though he knew he probably should. "So tell me." He whispered.
"I mean, where do I start?" he grinned "There are people in my house, a year older, I think, who smuggled in a vat of this stuff after we won the last quidditch game. Since I caught the snitch they made me..." He rose his head and shook his head.
"Carry on!" Dean prompted quietly, reaching forwards to prod playfully at Cas' arm, heart thrumming in his chest like a trapped bird. He smiled. "I wanna know."
Cas shook his head. "I'm sure you can infer." When he was sure Dean wasn't paying attention he tried to monitor Dean's expression
"Bad prefect.." Dean chided teasingly, and sat back in his seat, though he kept his hand on the table. "Can't have been anything too bad.."
"Well, I still have my badge, if that's what you mean"
"What kind of thing would they take your badge for, then?" Dean asked, swiping Cas' bottle and bringing it to his lips to take a sip. He realised that he was being more than flirtatious, but he didn't particularly care any more. The whiskey had helped rid him of his inhibitions, even if just a bit.
"They only can...if they catch me in the act" he winked again.
"The act.." Dean shrugged with mock naivety, and placed Cas' bottle back on the table, raising his eyebrows innocently at the other boy. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean.."
"C'mon Dean, I'm not falling for that."
Dean sniggered, before pursing his lips together against a smile. "Okay, fine, fine." He said, and purposely slid his hand a little closer to Cas'. He found himself wanting to to know more about him - to know his version of the 'act'.. who he'd done it with.. where.. when..
"What about you?" Cas asked suddenly
"What about me?" Dean asked, and reached for the bottle again, fingers slipping along it idly.
"You know…Have you..?
"I've done a lot of things, Cas." Dean teased, and folded his arms loosely on the table. He met his gaze, but his own was rather shy after a moment. "If you're asking if I.. if I've.." His eyes found the table, and he shook his head. Cas nodded to egg him on. Dean looked up again, and spoke quietly. "The answer is no. No, I haven't.. done that."
"…Ever?" Dean shook his head, and his cheeks were pink, eyes rather bashful as he looked away. "It's okay you know" Cas said quickly
"Is it?" Dean asked quietly, and bit his lip, feeling more than embarrassed. Cas smiled sweetly. Dean reached tentatively across the table, and his fingers brushed past Castiel's. Cas held on to Dean's hand - looked into his blue eyes and smiled.
