Discalaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural, nor any associated Characters.

~*This is my 80th Fanfic, whoot!^^*~

For Lauchie/American Prefect.

Prompt: Professor Remus Lupin/Castiel. [SUPERNATURAL]. 'Sixteen/16'. No Preference, Anything Goes

Oh Holy Night, of the Living Dead

~)0(~

This was just not his day.

Remus had ascertained this shortly after the first wave of flesh-consuming creatures had burst through the walls of the Three Broomsticks; pub patrons knocking over butterbeers and half-empty glasses of Firewhisky… The latter was most useful in their defence as many belched out flames of surprise, near incinerating the front row of undead assailants, not that he was complaining…

Some of the others managed to stumble drunkenly out of the way with speed born of adrenaline, no concern for anyone else's safety or protection… merely shoving whatever was in arm's reach –tables, chairs, people- behind in a frantic effort to put something between them and impending doom.

Cursing his luck, Remus snatched out his wand and pointed it threateningly at all the oncoming deceased-yet-mobile cannibals; mind whirring in its unfortunately tipsy state, trying to recall at least *one* spell that might help in such a dire situation… when he heard two voices shouting at one another outside. Obviously, he was aware Zombies probably wouldn't be arguing about who scratched the… *what on earth was an Impala? So assumed them to be human.

Shotgun shells splattered rotting green brain-matter from one end of the room to the other; rancid, rotting flesh fell in horrifying hunks all over the place. Lupin shuddered and brushed a still-wiggling hand off the shoulder of his brown cloak, slightly nauseous. "Alright, everybody outta here!" shouted the shorter, stockier male who burst through the door, shotgun raised; obviously a Muggle.

The taller of the two gave him a whack over the back of the head, "Hey, tone it down a little… it's only Zombies… What part of 'Try not to scare them too much or they'll panic' was too much for you?" Remus glared at the pair of them, mind whirring in a rush of sudden realisation; two Muggles in the Pub, too many Zombies to dispatch with a single firearm, he vaguely wondered if the Ministry would snap his wand for this…

"Fregatos!" he yelled, a row of the lurching creatures imploded, skulls looking like deflating balloons as they shrunk inwards with sickening crunches. The Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor noted –with some interest- that, while the two men flinched, they didn't seem as completely in awe by his powers as regular Muggles; obviously, they had seen some form of magic before. He hoped the Ministry of Magic accepted that as a damn good defence against why he had brazenly used magic before Muggles; but, with that fat toady -Cornelius Fudge- in charge… you could be sure the whole fact that there were inferi-like creatures involved would be overlooked.

A sickening wet pop next to his right ear brought reality crashing back down upon him, he whirled in time to avoid having his throat torn out but questing, yellow teeth… There was a thundering crack, the staggering force of the bullet taking out the head and sending the jaw flying past his cheek in a gruesome display of what could have been…

Not many of the creatures remained, but out the window he could clearly see more shuffling along the street in their direction… Damn and blast! Many of the undead ranks were half the size of their adult companions, adorned in the familiar black robes of the school he loved and served with unyielding loyalty… His heart grieved but a moment. Babies, all of them…now dead and forced by some malevolent will to do things against their sweet natures…

He placed both hands on his hips and straightened, projecting an air of 'Teacher-ness'… "Well, you two boys simply scream Gryffindor, don't you? Names can wait, if you want, but you have ten seconds to explain the whole Inferi situation…" he started.

"Dean… Dean Winchester, this is my baby brother Sammy, you one of the voodoo guys from the school? Let's cut the pleasantries short, long story short, it's the Apocalypse… Nasty-ass Demon-bitch called Lillith broke some of the seals, and the Horsemen are free, so… Zombies are apparently on the menu. Either way, we're all about to get screwed over…" the shorter of the two shrugged, as if this was old news. Sam, the taller one, looked apologetic for his brother's manners –or lack thereof.

Remus didn't care, "So, need a hand or are you right with your little toy there…?" he gestured at the shotgun with his wand; Dean looked affronted. "Coming from the guy playing with a *stick*!" he growled, Sam put out a hand, "Dean, come on, we know what he and the others are capable with those things. You don't want to spend the Apocalypse as a pig, do you?" he reasoned. The wizard was rather amused by the suggestion and could easily see it coming to fruition in a time less desperate than this…

Something illuminated the room in a blinding light from behind him, a clean though unshaven man stepped forwards, "You two should not be here, you know this. Sam, Dean, come… the Magic-users must face this alone… Lillith has found the location of Lucifer's prison." Dean cursed into his jacket collar as he took out another of the undead, a Slytherin third year Lupin recognised with a pang in his heart. The newcomer pushed past him roughly, without even a glance, trench coat flapping officiously behind him.

"Nearly sixteen new seals have been broken in the past hour alone, she's speeding up… it's a ploy to split up heaven's forces, and it's working. We've dispatched angels all over the world, but the foes we face are so much more dangerous than you could ever imagine, we are losing ever-increasing amounts of our forces every moment we delay…" the man hadn't even paused for breath at any point. Dean was smirking, "Random Guy in a brown coat, meet Castiel –our angelic pain in the ass, who apparently shops in the same place as you do… Sent to save our sexy behinds from the infernal fires and not doing a great job… What, uh, did you say your name was again?"

He parted his lips to speak, but experienced the feeling he was but a Ventriloquist's dummy, for the words that spewed forth were not his own… "Remus Lupin, Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, you currently teach Defence Against the Dark Arts." This 'Castiel' said this as fact, Remus was slightly taken aback as the angel continued to stare at him, unabashed; like he could pierce into his soul. Sam stepped forth with a hand out, "Hey, don't worry about him, he can be a little intense about these kinds of things and-…"

"…he's also a Werewolf." The Angel said, head tilted to one side, brow furrowed…as if he could not figure something out. Dean cocked the shotgun, "Oh… sorry to do this to you then, but…" he reached into a dark pocket and Remus could hear something jingling, a faint echoing ring that felt like a death knell…and he knew it to be silver bullets. "Would you believe me if I said that in my entire life, I have yet to attack another human being when in my, uh, other state…? We wizards have our own methods of dealing with these things…"

There was a click as the bullets slid home and the gun was again snapped back to readiness, "Nope."

"He speaks the truth." Said the Angel, Castiel, unexpectedly, the frown line receding as it appeared he had found what it was he searched for. There was a loud crashing sound, suddenly reality whipped back with the force of a slap; undead hordes streamed through the door, straight for the only remaining human beings in the entire establishment… in short, them. Lupin flicked his wand out in an arc as he screamed out, "Incendio Maxima!"

With a death rattle, the first through fifth row of undead simply paused and were engulfed in flames. With a whoosh and a soft tinkling sound like falling sand, they disintegrated into dust, "How's that for 'playing with my wand', boy?" he glared at Dean, who had taken two steps back and fallen over a chair in the effort to remove himself bodily from the grasping hands of a zombie. One that was no longer, thanks to Lupin, it had to be mentioned.

"Come, we cannot waste more time!" demanded Castiel, striding over and grabbing both Winchesters, there was a whoosh, blinding light and Sam's half-protest of, "What about-…" before all three were gone… and Lupin faced the shuffling horde alone.

~)0(~

Sobriety was instantaneous. Heartbeat erratic and growing faster… adrenaline levels so high he might as well run a marathon, because he'd come first, second and third, and any other position in the top ten, depending on how many times his pumped-up body allowed him to loop the course.

A shaky breath shuddered in and out, but he refused to go to pieces… Even when they charged, sensing the proverbial blood in the water. Even when one grasped his coat and tore it away. Even when he felt the clammy, rotting flesh squelch upon his own as undead hands caught tight hold of his flesh… bone sloughing through rotten flesh to indent on his own skin.

Never panic. Think clearly…

He tried, he truly did… but when the first one sunk it's teeth maliciously into his shoulder, -all the while throwing Curses, Hexes and Jinxes at those before and surrounding him- Lupin knew he was lost… but refused –in true Gryffindor Spirit- to go down without a fight. Hot, sick pain lanced from where the zombie tore into his flesh; sensations of wet warmth…so utterly wrong he wanted to be sick… Sweat born of concentration coated his brow in a slick sheen, or was it the blood-borne madness these creatures carried? Either way, his hair was plastered to his forehead… body trembling in pain and exertion, and for the first time…he wondered if it might be best to let it all go?

He neither knew, nor truly cared, what awaited him in the afterlife… all he knew was that it had to be better than here, now, this moment… With a sickening squelch, the teeth withdrew from his shoulder, it was a hotbed of agony and he knew without glancing to it, that there were still yellow teeth impaled in the wound. He felt the world become surreal, darkening at the edges, but pushed it aside… he would not go down… but the creature did not return. It slammed into a wall behind, where he could not see, and a voice yelled, "LEAVE HIM!" with all holy fury.

In a blinding flash of light, the zombies seemed to collapse in upon themselves; own animated bodies betraying them… Arms grabbed him from behind as he fell back, the adrenaline and fierce resolve keeping him to his feet fading with the disintegrating threat; it was then he noticed how sticky and wet his shoulder was, but felt numb. "You came back…" he smiled lightheadedly, "Am I… will I become…? Why is it whenever something bites me, it never leads to anything good…?" he mumbled, cursing the Gods of Irony for the thousandth time in his short life.

Remus felt the floor press to his back, an unyielding source of comfort in such uncertain times; a face filled his vision, Castiel. "Did you think I would not come back for you, also?" he queried, smiling sadly –and a little painfully, as if the expression was new or foreign to him. Remus bit back the original retort on his tongue, and was forced to swallow the second as the angel pressed two fingers to his forehead, whispering "Sleep."

And so he did.

~)0(~

"Cas, you look like Hell!" greeted one very familiar voice. Internally, the angel groaned inside his vessel, but maintained an expression of neutrality on the outside. "Dean…you also look significantly dishevelled, …and strangely aroused…" the angel glanced between the Winchester Brothers, until Sam caught the look and nearly fell over with a horrified expression. "Whoa, back up there Cas, no way!" he protested.

Dean looked outrageously offended, "What, you telling me you wouldn't want a piece of this sweet action?" he raised both arms out, displaying a grime-clad, bleeding body covered by tattered, dirty clothing. Sam raised an eyebrow, "There are SO many things wrong with that statement, you have no idea… believe me… You're my brother Dean!" The older Winchester clapped his hands together and smirked in triumph, "You didn't say No, now did you, big guy? I knew it, one look and you just have to have m-… whoa Cas, what the hell happened to him?"

The angel gave him what could only be described as an 'angelic bitchface'. "If you would remain silent for more than a second, I could tell you…" He crouched low over the human spread out on the grass of the graveyard, the man was only half as filthy as the other two but bleeding profusely from the hunk of missing flesh in his shoulder; under all the grime of battle, his skin was a worrying shade of pallid. Dean clicked his shotgun, "He's been bitten… I'm sorry Cas, but you need to move your ass, can't take the chance."

Angelic Bitchface the Second made its appearance, "Attempt to fire the weapon and I shall have to place it somewhere you humans seem most preoccupied with, though I am unsure how it's larger dimensions would fit in such a small space…" Dean blinked, clearly not getting it as Castiel leant over the human on the grass and placed his hands to the wound, healing as best he could.

Sam nudged Dean, "Dude, I…I think he just threatened to shove your rifle up your ass…" The older Winchester blinked in sudden realisation, "You know what? I think he did too… I am SO proud of you right now, Cas! On your way to being a real boy…" The angel moved back from the suddenly-healthy Remus Lupin, to glare at Dean, "I was under the impression I was already a fully-functional anatomically correct male…?"

Shoving a finger in each ear and walking away singing Jingle Bells, Dean avoided an awkward conversation… Sam stayed. Gaze wandering from where Cas looked on with a concerned expression, to the stirring form in the grass, a thought suddenly struck, "You…alright, Cas? It's just you look… I mean…" he tried for smooth or helpful, but it came out halted and awkward.

A slight frown marred the brow, "I… was made to assume these bodies were programmed to be paired male to female, to produce offspring, and yet… there is a most confusing sensation in the pit of my stomach and heart, when I look at him. I do not understand…" Angels were built without emotion, just the knowledge and power to serve. Sam could understand how confusing this must be, he crouched a moment, "Cas…" he grinned, "You like him, and it's okay…"

The angel visibly relaxed.

~)0(~

"Hey, you girls done up there?" cried a voice down the hill, resting by a sleek black car; Sam rolled his eyes and stood, turning to stride down the hill and call back, "Really subtle, Dean!"

"Like a Fox!"

There was a momentary pause, before…

"Bitch."

Came the answering cry of the idiot-bird. Sam grinned, feeling the familiar pattern set in once again, "Jerk!" Someone gave him a whack over the back of the head with an affectionate, "Bitch… Knew it, you couldn't resist all this!" Dean swept a hand at his body… Sam whacked him back, "Just get in the car…"

He paused before sliding into the car, looking back up the hill… to where Cas and Remus were and smiled… he could now add 'Match-Maker' to his Resume.

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes, yeah… right after 'Demon Hunter' and 'Apocalypse Starter'… employers would be simply clamouring for him…

~)0(~

Like in all the clichéd movies out there, Remus Lupin sat bolt upright in surprise at the generalised lack of death he was experiencing. "I'm…alive…?" he asked tentatively, flickering surprised eyes between the face hovering by his and the rising moon reaching for its zenith. Horror filled him.

"You have to go, now, I…I don't want to hurt you or anyone! Quickly! Go, run, poof out of here like you did before-…" he garbled, staring at the full moon and the calm expression Castiel was wearing, confused. "There is no need to fear for your own safety, I have healed you… my own safety is of no concern at present, or ever." The angel answered, placing a hand on the newly-healed-and-not-throbbing-anymore shoulder; Remus reached up to touch, to check … and found his fingers brushing those of the angel's with a tumultuous tingling… Two sets of breath hitched. Eyes met.

"What did you do…?" he whispered, reverently. Castiel frowned, as if the answer should be obvious, "I healed you… you will not revert to either Undead or Werewolf ever again, is this not to your liking?"

Remus laughed, confusing the generally emotionless being crouching before him. "No, it's…it's wonderful! I-…" he exhaled, not finding the words, but instead a pair of kind eyes… Lecherous was the expression upon the angel's face, it could have matched Dean's –smirk for smirk- at that moment as Castiel pressed himself closer to his human prey and whispered, "You once said, that whenever something bites you, it never leads to something good…correct?"

Excitement and arousal stopped coherent words from forming upon his lips, and so he simply nodded vigorously as a body pressed him gently back into the grass… It sent tingles up his spine, warm puffs of breath on his neck as the voice continued –directly in his ear-, "I think I can falsify that statement…"

And the full moon shone down on a scene unlike any other in the worlds…

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The End.

If you are currently in the foetal position, I apologise...

Even if you aren't, please feel free to express your horror in a REVIEW.

~SailorSilvanesti/Phoenix Fire~