The Mirror of Erised
Summary: Years after the tragedy that laid a dark shadow over Hogwarts, the Dark Lord returns to his roots and gazes into his desires.
Contains: Character Deaths. Mentioned Homosexuality.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural. All characters from either series belong respectively to their creators and the publishing/distributing companies.
Castiel stood in the cold, dark chamber, dimly lit by the light of the moon that shone in through the sparsely placed windows.
One would think a place like this didn't exist in such a lively school as Hogwarts. A silent sanctuary that found its home here and was empty of all furniture except for one mirror, standing in a corner and covered by a heavy canvas tarp that carried layers of dust from decades past. A school that should have been closed off and protected from the Dark Lord. But it did. And Castiel was standing in it.
"How long has it been?" the dark wizard murmured to no one in particular. A pale, slender hand reached out to the tarp, grasping hold of it and disturbing the dust that had settled upon it. Bright, sea blue eyes stared intently at the fabric, and all the years of horror, sorrow, and heartache showed in Castiel's thirty year old countenance; looking so old, but still so very young at the same time.
"Too long," he answered himself and gripped the tarp tight, dragging it from the full length mirror that it hid. Castiel's robes were unsettled by his too sudden movement, the black cloth dragging along his too thin frame for a moment before settling back to hang loosely over its wearer.
"Too long," Castiel repeated again, a feeling of dread and excitement having welled up in his chest as he dragged his eyes from the tarp on the ground to the mirror that stood before him.
The Mirror of Erised.
Instead of finding himself standing alone in the mirror, Castiel saw three other men standing beside him. They were smiling despite the frown that marred Castiel's face, but the lonely man slowly found himself smiling out of the infectious nature of their mirth.
The former headmaster, Bobby Singer. A balding man of a drunken and surly nature, who had been like a father to him when he had attended Hogwarts all those years ago. A magnificent and infinitely kind man killed in cold blood by the then and current Minister of Magic, Dick Roman.
A rising star from the house of Ravenclaw, Sam Winchester. The younger brother of Castiel's best friend and a close friend as well. Sam had always been understanding and like a brother to him. That was, until he had been betrayed and poisoned in his sleep by his then girlfriend, Ruby.
And then there was him, Dean Winchester. The bravest Gryffindor Hogwarts would ever know and the most loyal of friends. Castiel's boyfriend. His defender. His light in the darkness. The one person in all of the Wizarding World that could have kept him off this path and at the same time could have driven him down the darkest of roads.
And he had been murdered by Castiel's own hands. Yes, he was under an Imperius Curse set upon him by the former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Michael, but it was by his own hands that Dean had died. Had been forced to watch with terror and sorry and heartache as Castiel pleaded with him to run and get far away. Had died with the forced utterance of an Avada Kedavra at the tender age of seventeen. A mere three months before their graduation ceremony.
Castiel stood before the Mirror of Erised and let a sob rattle his emaciated body as he remembered the days of his shared childhood in Hogwarts. The quiet sobs quickly grew to pained howls as the Dark Lord closed his eyes, unable to look upon the sad faces of his family. Not wanting to feel the very real hands of Dean, Sam, and Bobby resting upon him in a comforting gesture that would never come. Never again.
They were dead and gone, just as Castiel Novak, the oddly brave and overly smart Hufflepuff, had died back in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts all those years ago. In the same disused classroom that entombed Dean.