Chapter one.
Dean swore under his breath as a group of small, shrieking children bolted past him, almost knocking his heavy case out of his hands as he unsuccessfully tried to balance on the lurching train.
Fucking First years. Some things never change.
He managed to regain his hold on the old, battered leather trunk before continuing down the train searching for an empty compartment.
The train had barely left London before he had lost … no, more like misplaced his younger brother in the crowds of students trying to get decent seats for the journey to school. Dean still isn't 100% sure how he lost Sam.
He remembered his brother explaining, in excruciating detail, about the four founders of the school and the different traits of the four houses they created. The academy in Salem which he and Sam used to attend was much more simple. They had no houses, just separate dormitories for boys and girls. When Quidditch season started however, everyone who was willing to participate was split into six teams (in no particular order) and the chosen captains trained them. Dean guessed it would save a lot of trouble putting everyone into houses at the beginning of the year but hey, Salem was home and boy did he miss America.
After listening to Sam droll on about the houses Dean had come to the conclusion that he didn't really give a shit about where e was put as long as it wasn't Hufflepuff. That house sounded like they met up every Sunday for tea and cakes and talked about how the new little pony episode really showed how twilight sparkle confronted her fears and learned the true value of friendship, and talked about there feelings. It made Dean shudder just thinking about it.
Ravenclaw just wasn't worth thinking about, it was never going to happen. Dean had gotten to the riddle off between Bilbo and Gollum in the hobbit (which was the only book that Sam ever pestered Dean to read) and sat their for three hours trying to work out each riddle before he read on and found out the answers. Sam ruined his plan however and told him the answers before he could clamp his hands around that know-it-all mug of his. Three days and seven pieces of pie later, Dean decided it was time to forgive and forget.
No, Dean was happy with either Gryffindor or Slytherin, they were his people. Brave, chivalrous, ambitious, sly. It was like looking into a mirror. He wasn't sure about this Salazar Slytherin's problem with muggles. Dean was half blood himself and if he was going to get hassle from being sorted into Slytherin then he'll settle for Gryffindor. Plus the emblem is a lion, which was manlier than a serpent, eagle and a fucking badger.
This chat was interrupted by Sam stopping dead in his tracks, turning bright red and grabbing Dean's hand. Before Dean could ask what got his younger brother so flustered he was dragged through the crowds, only managing to hear a few words of what his brother was muttering. Whoever this 'Gabriel' dude was had his brother on a leash. Sammy had it bad. Dean would have began to rip the shit into his brother, but he lost his grip on Sam' hand and found himself alone in the train. This was the moment in time where Dean decided to go find a empty, quiet compartment where he could drown in the heavenly chords of the one and only Led Zeppelin.
Not that Dean got very far in his search for peace, serenity and classic rock. Just after the first years knocked his trunk out of his hands, a boy with shaggy brown hair and puppy dog eyes grasped Dean's elbow and pulled him into the compartment Dean was passing.
"Dammit Sammy, warn a guy would-"
Sam clasped his hand over Dean's mouth, for a younger brother he was a head taller than Dean, even at thirteen. Sam shook his head violently as Dean's muffled protests filled the room, his eyes begging Dean to be silent. So, Dean stopped struggling, he lifted his confused eyes into Sam's worried ones. What the fuck was going on? Dean however, realised what Sam was doing as two male voices passed outside the compartment.
"I swear that gangly moose ran this way"
"Alistair, he's obviously gone on ahead. He might be a faggot, but he's clever. C'mon before the prefects start doing their rounds."
"Fine, fine. We have a whole year of torturing our favourite moose, let's go Gordon"
As the two voices died away Dean turned to Sam with a astonished look on his face. "Sammy, please tell me you didn't."
"Dean, I-"
"Sam, do you want to give those pricks and excuse to make your life hell? What part of keep your head down did you not understand!"
Dean didn't realise his voice was rising as Sam pleaded for him to stop. Sam had been out of the closet only recently in Salem, and Dean had been there to put everyone who thought it was wrong in their place. Sam was his brother, and if anyone had a problem with who he loved then they would have to answer to him. Now, half a year where Dean wasn't there and Sam just couldn't keep his mouth shut could he? Dean had stayed for the last semester for Quidditch season while Sam left for Hogwarts when Bobby got a job at the Ministry of Magic, in the department for the regulation of control of magical creatures. Manticores and Hippogrifs. That shit.
"Dean, it's who I am and if people can't accept that then it's not my problem!"
"Yeah, and how long have those ass holes been terrorizing you?"
"Dean-"
"How long?"
"It's not that bad, I can deal with it."
"That's just it Sam, you think you can but you can't!"
"I can!"
"YOU'RE NOT STRONG ENOUGH SAM!"
Sam stared at his brother, hurt and rejection flitted across his face before his face hardened. Before he carry on the argument the compartment door slid open, revealing two boys around Dean's age. The first was leaning against the door frame, a good deal shorter than Dean with a mane of hair that reached just below the neckline of his khaki jacket, that matched the pair of golden eyes that moved from Sam to Dean, then back to Sam. The second caught Dean's attention, a little shorter than Dean, with a unruly mop of black hair and bright blue eyes that followed the same path as his companion. The tan trench coat he was wearing drowned his slim figure.
After assessing the situation in front of him the first boy spoke.
"Sam, you okay? This dick bothering you?" he asked slowly, hateful eyes raking Dean's figure.
"No, Gabe. It's fine. Gabriel, Castiel, this is my older brother Dean, he's just transferred from Salem. He's in your year Cas."
Castiel nodded in acknowledgement, Gabriel just stared. "Well, I just came to drop of Cas, now if you don't mind I'm off to find Balthazar. We have some new tricks for Gordon. I swear the bigger he gets the more brain cells he loses" He stepped aside for Castiel to enter the compartment. Gabriel then winked at Sam "See you around kiddo, oh and I expect to be first on your list of people to take to Hogsmeade. You owe me a date" He grinned and without acknowledging Dean, sauntered down the corridor, sliding the door shut behind him.
"What a dick" Dean exclaimed before sitting on the plush seats opposite Sam and Castiel.
"He's like Marmite. You either love him or hate him"
"Oh, yeah. I can see which side you're on" Dean added sarcastically.
"DEAN"
"What, you can do so much better than that douche bag."
Castiel, who had curled his legs underneath him on the plush chair looked up from the charms book he had been reading and eyed Dean distastefully.
"That Dean Winchester, is my brother you are talking about, so I would appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut and show him some respect. He looks after Sam like family, and without him Alistair and his minions would have made Sam's life a whole lot worse." He then turned to Sam, all anger removed from his eyes. "I am afraid you were wrong Sam, I do not like your brother very much." Castiel then returned to his book, leaving a rather slack-jawed Dean to nurse his hurt pride in the corner and Sam trying to stifle his laughter by putting his fist into his mouth. Dean inserted his headphones into his ears and pressed play on his I-pod. As 'Stairway to Heaven' drowned out the trains engine Dean looked out of the window at the countryside. Gone was the familiar grey concrete jungle he had grown attached too, and a bland, grey sky replaced the bright blue. He pushed all thoughts of home aside, he was beginning to worry that Bobby might be wrong. He was going to hate it here.