Castiel's Great Big Adventure!

(or more specifically; "The Dreaded Family Reunion!"

To all the Supernatural/Hogwarts fans that just love Wizard Cas.

~.~


Castiel Jim Singer silently waited in his bedroom, shamefaced for yelling at his father for the first time in perhaps five years. Downstairs he could hear his father silently arguing on the phone with a man named Rem Lupis or something to that effect. His father, whose beard still retained some auburn hair, had been nervously pulling and twisting it all throughout dinner and Castiel could have sworn that his father had, at some point nearly choked when Castiel had so much as moved in his seat.

Something was going on, since his eleventh birthday, something big and apparently strange enough to effect his no nonsense father turning him into some sort of nervous ninny. It probably had to do with that prank, the one with all the owls delivering mail and the young looking man with wisps of white at his temples and scars on his kind tired face. Castiel had been promptly sent to his room and had not been curious in the least to eavesdrop, something that his older cousin Anna had been notorious for.

Right now, Castiel sort of wishes that he was more like Anna. If he were then he would have snuck to the landing and would have heard the entire conversation. As it were, Castiel didn't know what was going on at all because he wasn't like Anna, and right now, had decided to lock himself in his room and wait for his father to come in and explain everything. He would argue till the cows came home that he was not being a spoiled kid. Castiel was mature for his age, tantrums were below him (although his father could tell you differently. Castiel's temper tantrums were legendary...poor old Bobby had the gray hairs to prove them.)

Castiel didn't hold his breath, not really. Bobby Singer was not a man known for taking orders, especially from children-especially from his own children. He would rather pull teeth then explain the situation, even more so due to Castiel's rather explosive shouting match with the man just earlier.

"Castiel, you are indeed a fool." He said to himself, hands on his knees. He laid back against the blue plaid duvet and stared at his ceiling, the painted white stars all but faded and chipping-Castiel didn't look up at the old painted stars anymore, not since his mother had passed. It made him sad to picture her on the old rickety ladder with paintbrush in hand, smiling as she painted those stars.

Anna had helped.

'Aunt Karen was so excited when she found out she was pregnant! It took all night to paint the walls and ceiling and-don't tell but I swear I sometimes saw your mom wave a wand and more stars were up there. Like magic!'

Castiel hadn't scoffed at the story, Anna had been five years old at the time, liable to have imaged anything embellishing on a memory or when times were still good in the Singer household. Anna, who seemed more like a sister to Castiel, loved to tell him stories about his parents when his mother was still alive and sometimes stories about his mother and...strange things.

He closed his eyes and groaned. The stories were all so strange and Anna swore they were true despite how impossible they had to be.

'Aunt Karen had this twisty broom that she used to fly on. Uncle Bobby didn't know a thing about it!'

'Aunt Karen used to bring dead flowers back to life!'

'Aunt Karen made me a gold fish once, right out of a petal. She said Miss Lily taught her how back when they were in school!'

'Aunt Karen was amazing Cassy! She chased all the bad things away with starlight!'

It was hard for Castiel to believe that Anna was sixteen. Sometimes she acted so childish. Wands and magic didn't exist!

Well, maybe it does. A voice, one that sounded suspiciously like Anna, pipped in his head. It would explain all the weird stuff thats been happening.

He didn't want to admit it, but whenever he thought about Anna's stories of his mother, about the owls with the letters and the young man with scars on his face, Castiel would always wonder about...it.

If he were less like his father he would admit that something pretty strange was going on something downright magical. After all, it wasn't every day that a young boy fell out of his window only to float slowly to the ground.

Anna had nearly had a litter of kittens when she'd seen him float while his father had stood there, stock still, covered in motor oil with the strangest expression on his face. Castiel, for his part, hadn't known what to think. At first he wondered about hard gushes of wind carrying him (impossible) or maybe it was a dream...people did not float.

Right?

Maybe...its your mother's magic! The Anna voice giggled in his mind.

Magic wasn't real.

~.~


Castiel found himself in the back of an old 67' Impala the next day. His father, bless his soul, had stumbled about the strange goings on to Castiel about being special.

"Not normal but its alright to be not normal, you're mother was different too."

Looking back, Castiel could sort of agree. The earliest memories of his mother showed Castiel that all of those little things, floating stuffed animals and moving picture books had not just been drawn up from the fantasy's of an overtired and imaginative child and so, he allowed himself to believe in magic just a little bit.

"You excited?" A boy with glittering green eyes and a speck of freckles at his nose peered down at Castiel from the front seat. Dean, Castiel reminded himself of the boy's name yet again, had greeted him earlier that morning by jumping onto Castiel's bed and vigorously shaking him awake as though he had known Castiel his entire life and thus was allowed to tackle him awake.

Of course Dean hadn't appreciated the vicious growl and shove off the bed, but he seemed to pick himself up quickly enough giving Castiel an oddly roguish grin that Anna, who'd been at the doorway, would later explain was flirtatious. Castiel vowed to have a talk with his cousin about that, boys did not flirt with each other ever (and this was true until he was greeted by Francis Bonnefoy in his bed-but that is another story entirely.)

"I suppose I am excited." He answered. "This will be the first time meeting my mother's side of the family even if it is because they would better explain what is exactly happening to me."

"Dude, you talk weird!" Dean said with a rather over exaggerated eye roll. "How old are you, really? You sound like an old man."

"I'm eleven years old. My birthday was just last Thursday."

"Sure. Ye' sound constipated if you ask me and what is the deal with your clothes?"

Castiel looked down at his chosen attire. A suit and tie, very formal and perhaps a little big, but it seemed perfectly acceptable. Bobby had grinned when he'd done up Castiel's tie, mentioning something about Castiel looking like a tax accountant or something.

"It's a suit. I'm meeting my mother's family for the first time and my father mentioned that my second cousin's husband would invite coworkers. I don't want to embarrass them." Castiel flushed under Dean's scrutiny, he wrung his hands together and looked expectantly at the rear view mirror at Mr. Winchester, hoping that the man would say something to his son.

To Castiel's surprise it was the other Winchester child, Sam, who said anything in his defense. Sam was dressed rather nicely as well, dark jeans and button down shirt, not as nicely as Castiel himself but nicer-certainly-then how Mr. Winchester and Dean were dressed (Castiel would call them clones, they donned flannel, blue jeans and work boots. Only difference was that Mr. Winchester's flannel was blue and Dean's red.)

"He looks nice." Sam said.

"Dude, he looks freaky. I mean, its just family, you don't have to try so hard for family reunions."

Castiel had to disagree. Every time the Elder Singer's visited, Anna and Castiel were expected to dress in their best clothes and Bobby would clean as though his life depended on it (and maybe it did, Granny Singer was terrifying!)

Dean may have continued to nit pick at Castiel and now Sam's choice of clothing had Mr. Winchester not growled at Dean to settle down. With a huff of annoyance at his father Dean sat back against the front seat with a pout. Castiel looked into the rear view surprised when he caught the amused glint in Mr. Winchester's light colored eyes.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all.

~.~


The international port key experience left Castiel and Dean with queasy stomachs, horrible migraines and a few bruised ribs. Mr. Winchester had laughed as he floated effortlessly down after them with Sam secured in his arms. He landed just a foot in front of them and grinned rather a lot like Dean after a good pie (the pie which they'd had earlier for lunch which Castiel's stomach was attempting to reacquaint with his mouth, to be precise.)

"Boys." He said.

"Dad." Dean seemed to forget his initial pain and bout with nausea. He stood and grinned up at his father. "That. Was. So. Awesome!" He wooped, air fisting with both hands. "We get to do it again, right?"

"When its time to go home, yeah." Mr. Winchester settled Sam on the ground. The child seemed a little shaky but well enough to give Castiel a hand.

"Thank you, Sam." Castiel nodded at the boy and held a grin as Sam flushed pink at the cheeks preening at being thanked. He let go of Sam's hand and quickly smoothed the wrinkles his suit had acquired during the fall. He looked up at Mr. Winchester, inspecting the man's five o'clock shadow and fought a sigh. Would it hurt to shave?

Mr. Winchester noticed Castiel's gaze and winked.

"Nervous?"

"No." He lied.

If Mr. Winchester knew he didn't say. He took Sam by the hand and nodded towards the large desk at the end of the room large dome room. A man stood there with thinning red hair and a kind round face. He was tall with light pouch at his belly though Castiel was certain that in his youth the man must have been very thin and wiry.

"John." The man greeted with thick English accent. He retracted a hand from the pocket of his tweed jacket and extended it for a shake. "Your boys plus one?"

"Arthur," Mr. Winchester greeted kindly. "Meet my Monsters. This one here is Dean and this is Sam."

Dean grinned with a "Howdy" while Sam shyly waved a hello. Arthur mentioned something about having a boy just about Dean's age before his blue eyes caught Castiel.

Arthur got on one knee and smiled warmly, he extended his hand and Castiel gave it a firm shake, impressive for his age Castiel was sure. Arthur's kind blue eyes seemed amused.

"You must be Karen's boy. I'm Arthur Weasley, Molly's husband."

Castiel tilted his head curiously, he didn't know the name Weasley but the name Molly he was familiar with. Molly was his mother's cousin's name. Molly Prewett, apparently Weasley now.

"It is nice to meet you, Mr. Weasley." Castiel said.

"Arthur's fine," Mr. Weasley said with a laugh. "We're cousins by marriage after all- make note, Molly will not take to being called Missus Weasley by you. Never knew cousins to call one another by Mister or Missus."

He stood straight and leveled the other children with a warm smile and Castiel imagined that Arthur Weasley was the kind of man that never stopped smiling for long. This made Castiel anxious to meet the rest of the Weasley/Prewett family, if they were all this kind then there was no reason to worry at all.

~.~


The house at night seemed odd to say the least, tilting at an awkward angle and Castiel could swear that in the dark it seemed to sway. Dean, who had switched from jacket to red hooded sweater low whistled at the sight of the Weasley home, seemingly impressed with the houses structure. Sam, who had taken to holding Dean's hand, shoved his thumb into his mouth quietly sucking gazed up at the house with large light colored eyes also impressed.

"It's...really tall." Dean said.

"Dean!" John chided his son.

"Not saying anything bad, its just tall is all I said, sir."

John (who refused to be called Mr. Winchester) gave Arthur a pat on the shoulder that seemed to almost knock the poor man over. Castiel had to give Arthur credit- John Winchester was built solidly, reminiscent of an old football player or a wrestler, anyone else might have fallen over. Something akin almost to hero worship bubbled up in Castiel at the sight of his kind hearted middle aged cousin who could stand to take John Winchester's friendly (yet powerful) shove and still find it in him to laugh (Castiel would never tell Dean. Dean seemed like the type to scoff at hero worship that didn't migrate to his father or Batman, he would find the hero worship Castiel had for Arthur Weasley laughable most likely.)

"This is the place," Arthur gave a sweeping motion toward the house, almost bashful or embarrassed by the appearance. "It isn't much, I'm afraid."

"Naw, its cool." Dean had yet to turn his attention away from the house, intent on staring at the rounded red haired woman in the bay window. "It's a nice place, real nice."

The way Dean "nice" made Castiel wonder where the Winchester's lived. John Winchester eyed his son, eyes warming almost sadly for a moment before turning his attention to Arthur who mentioned dinner which got Dean and John's attention-especially the mention of pies and cakes. Both father and son quickened their steps towards the house, Sam, who seemed less enthusiastic about sweets and pastries let go of his brother's hand content to walk between Castiel and Arthur.

"Those two," Arthur began warmly. "its always a good way to get off of sore topics with John, if you mention sweets. Dean, it seems is very much the same."

Castiel tilted his head. He didn't think they had really gone into sore topics of conversation-not really. Just a little awkward at the mention of the ramshackle house...oh...

"The house, you mean? What happened?"

"The house." Arthur said. "Don't think they've had a house since the incident a few years back." Arthur's gaze rested on Sam's dark brown head. "Not my story to tell."

Castiel nodded. He would ask Dean about this incident later as he turned his attention back to the house. His eyes rested on the chickens milling about the old boots on the lawn. A rusted cauldron bubbled something sweet smelling though Castiel couldn't put together why a large cauldron would be on ones front yard and why it would bubble with something that smelled strangely like candy floss.

The house seemed strange and tilted oddly, there were odd miscellaneous things in the front yard and heckling sounds coming from behind the house (Arthur told him the Gnomes in the garden seemed rowdy tonight,) but the overall feeling from it was warmth which seemed to pour from the brightly lit windows, the place itself was very very inviting.

Castiel thumped the sign lightly with a fond smile. Inscribed upon it were the words "The Burrow" which the house was called adding to its strange and unusual charm.

"I like this house." Castiel said suddenly. "It seems...very homey from the outside."

Arthur nodded.

"We do our best."

"You've done very well."

From the front door Dean impatiently tapped his foot, staring at the two 'cousins' with a pout and very amused green glittering eyes. John seemed less impatient, standing solidly next to his son.

"C'mon! Its like, there's a party going on inside!" Dean was right. Strange music dully drummed from behind the door and voices pipped together laughter rising and falling all at once in conversation. "And pie! I totally smell cherry pie!"

"How do you know its cherry pie?" Sam asked as he, Arthur and Castiel approached.

"Dude, it me. I know pie."

~.~


What Castiel did not expect was to be greeted by an assortment of red haired children, aunts and uncles immediately upon the door being opened. He didn't expect the "Welcome Castiel" banner hanging on the wall singling him out as the guest of honor and thus embarrassing him so much that he stuttered his hellos and thank yous horribly...he especially did not expect to be whisked into the warmest, kindest and sweetest hug since his mother had ever been alive.

Molly Weasley held tightly to the now crying boy, whose blue eyes seemed impossibly large. Her hand rested on the dark nest of curling black hair reminiscent of Karen at that age. She didn't fault the poor boy, for crying as he was, to be so incredibly surprised either. Bobby had mentioned in his letter that Castiel, for all his stoicism was also very sensitive.

"Hello dear," She greeted. "I'm Molly."

"I apologize. I don't know why I'm crying." He said said evenly. He didn't move away from the hug instead, he settled into her arms like he belonged.

He felt safe there, truth be told. Castiel felt safest when he was hugged, though it wasn't often that it happened. His father took to awkward pats on the back and Anna liked to have a starting run before tackling him in what she called a hug (which wasn't) but proper hugs like this hadn't happened for Castiel since his mother had been alive. Karen Singer was what his father called a hug-o-holic. Castiel imagined that maybe this was a Prewett trait, he enjoyed hugs and it seemed Molly was a practiced and seasoned hugger.

When she finally pulled away Castiel took a good look at her. She had been the woman in the window. She was short and rounded with a kind face and a sweeping of red hair held in a bun at the crown of her head. A dotting of freckles lined her cheeks and nose lightly and her pearl pink mouth was stretched into a brilliant smile.

Castiel loved her instantly. She looked like his mother (coloring and freckles aside).

"Oh mum, look at what you've done!"

"Ruined a perfectly good cousin, thats what she's done."

"Scared him him enough to cause tears...tears Fred! Did you see the tears?"

"Why yes George. It was incredibly hard to miss, the poor lad wept so profoundly I could not help but notice."

Identical twins enacted dramatically the scene before them, one hugging the other weeping loudly and girlishly. Castiel tilted his head, wondering if he'd been that girlish crying. He doubted it.

Dean laughed and along with a red haired boy about their age, clapped and shouted bravo at the end of the twins performance. They bowed low at the same moment and smiled the exact same smile.

"I'm Fred by the way," the twin to the right introduced. "This handsome devil here is George."

"Not handsomer then you Fred!"

"Oh George, you flatter me!"

Castiel edged away from the twins bypassing a man with good looks and dark hair, who greeted with a wolfish grin ("Sirius Black's the name, cousin Cas!) he made for the sitting room where a girl with bright red hair had tip toed into. He stumbled into the room and noticed a well worn sofa where the girl sat munching on what seemed like cookies. Beside her sat a much older boy (very young man) with singed brows and shiny burn scars across his forearms, hair the same fiery red as Arthur and Molly.

"Hullo!" The young man greeted with a crooked grin. He patted the space between himself and the red haired girl. "The names Charlie Weasley."

"Castiel Singer." He greeted as he took the offered seat, noticing for the first time that Sam had followed him. "This is Sam Winchester."

Charlie smiled kindly at Sam and scooted further from Castiel so Sam coud sit between them.

"Hullo Sam."

"Hi." Sam greeted shyly.

The girl seated beside Castiel lifted her blushing face, eyes focused on Castiel and then Sam before looking passed them into the kitchen at Dean. She ducked her head as Dean turned his attention from his father to the girl whom he smiled at before making his way into the sitting room. He ducked in and took a seat on a worn recliner and somehow the girl blushed deeper.

Castiel decided that girls were weird (He would keep this opinion until the day he died-or till his sixth year where everything goes wrong.) Thankfully this girl was his cousin so there was no need to really worry about her strangeness. He leaned back and sighed.

TBC

~.~


This was originally in Bad Touch Trio and the Goblet of Hilarity. Its since been moved here because I wanted to focus of the Hetalia/Harry Potter crossover rather than let Supernatural take Hetalia's place. Part two will be added as soon as I can manage. No flames please and review!