A/N: Okay, this was a really fun one to write, especially the last scene. I forgot how much I love this episode! It will be divided to two parts, though, since it ended quite long.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural.
December 2009.
The next few months were… good. Honestly, Hermione couldn't remember the last time she was this happy and relaxed.
Of course, she and Dean getting back together didn't go down without any problems. Bobby tried to pretend he was happy because she was, and that he respected her wishes of him not interfering, but Hermione knew he still cornered Dean and tore him a new one.
At least she knew that if they did break up again, her dad was on her side.
Sam, too, was a bit perplexed at the concept of the two of them dating again. That was especially evident after a particular instance when Hermione was sharing a motel room with the boys and Sam walked in to see… things he most certainly didn't want to see his brother doing.
They set up a few ground rules for Hermione joining them for hunts after that, the first of which was to get two rooms, one for Sammy and the other for Dean and Hermione.
"I get that you're back together, and trust me, I couldn't be happier," he told them, "but there are parts of your relationship I do not need to know about."
They obliged to every single one of his rules, but Hermione couldn't help but notice the small, pleased smile on his lips whenever he caught them kissing. Both she and Dean knew that in Sam's mind, they were a perfect match for each other.
Now they just had to make it work.
Hermione didn't spend long periods of time with them anymore. She travelled between London, Bobby's house and wherever the boys happened to be at intervals of about a week between each place. Occasionally, when the brothers had no case to work on, Dean would join Hermione in London, for the first time learning more about the world that was her second home.
He even met Jessica-Rose, who obviously didn't remember him from when she met him as a newborn. The toddler's eyes now lit up whenever she saw Dean, and even when he was just mentioned, a fact that Ron didn't shy from laughing about.
Like mother, like daughter.
The new routine was exhausting – exhausting wasn't even an accurate enough word to describe it – but she made it work.
They made it work.
Hermione had to admit, even though she had seen a lot of weird things throughout the years – both in the Magical world and the Supernatural one – this must have been the weirdest she had come across.
A local man was chased and then killed by the Hulk. Hermione didn't even know who it was, which led to Dean shuffling through his bag and pulling out a few comic books, which in turn led to Sam laughing for about fifteen minutes straight.
They were all in agreement that it couldn't have been the actual Hulk – mainly, due to him being a fictional character – but that still left the question of what did kill him.
A quick examination of the deceased life led them to find out he had anger management issues. Or, as Sam eloquently put it, "a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead."
At that, both Dean and Sam turned to look at Hermione.
"What?" she asked, confused.
"Nothing," Sam said. "It just… kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?"
Hermione could feel the headache starting to build up.
With the addition of candy wrappers found at the crime scene, it left no room for doubt. Just desserts, sweet tooth and the tendency to screw with people before killing them could only mean one thing – the Trickster.
Only as Hermione realized the more the brothers talked, she knew something neither of them did. The 'Trickster' wasn't a Trickster at all. He was an Angel – Gabriel – and he had saved her multiple times in the past.
Despite not seeing him for nearly a year, Hermione knew she still owed him. For pulling her out of Hell, for healing her whenever she asked and, most of all, for making her see reason when she was too stubborn to do so.
Without him, she wouldn't have gotten better. So the least she could do, at least for now, is to keep his secret and deal with whatever comes later whenever it comes.
And that's how Hermione found herself following the boys into an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere, searching for a Trickster that wasn't really a Trickster.
If Hermione thought that day could not get any worse, she was about to find out she was wrong. As soon as the three of them walked into the warehouse, Sam and Dean disappeared and the door slammed behind her, leaving her in semi-darkness. Clutching her wand, Hermione reached back to the door, only to find it deadlocked.
She was stuck, she realized after trying – and failing – to cast a spell. Locked in, no magic, no Sam and Dean and seemingly no way out.
Great. What now?
Hermione didn't know how long had passed before the door to the warehouse opened again, but as soon as it did, she jumped to her feet.
"No, don't let it –"
The door shut down and Hermione sat down again.
"And now we're stuck," she said. "Again."
"Have you been here all this time?" Castiel asked, stepping forwards towards her.
"Depends," Hermione said. "How long has it been?"
"None of you have been answering your phones for the past three days."
At that, Hermione stood up again. "Three days?" she asked. "No, that can't be right. It couldn't have been more than a few hours, at the most. I mean, I'm not even hungry, let alone tired."
"There is a pocket dimension overlapping this building," Castiel said. "The passage of time here seems to be… different. What were you hunting?"
"Well, it appeared to be a Trickster," Hermione said.
"The same one you dated?"
Hermione felt heat rise to her face. "Yes," she finally said. "Do I want to know how you know that?"
"Well, considering your closeness to Dean and Sam, Heaven felt it necessary to keep track of you. We did avoid the more… intimate parts of the relationship, but we still felt it necessary to note you being in a relationship with a Demi-god."
"Unknowingly," Hermione stressed. "Unknowingly being in a relationship with him. I wouldn't have dated him if I knew he wasn't human."
"Yes, your relationship history suggested as much."
At this point, Hermione wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry, but she was sure she didn't want to talk about her love life any longer.
"Dean and Sam are probably inside the pocket dimension," she said. "Can you get them out?"
"Even if I did, I'd have to go in first," Castiel replied.
"Great," Hermione said. "Let's go."
"No."
Hermione paused, turning to look at Castiel. He wasn't one to show emotions often – Angels weren't supposed to have emotions – but even so, his alarm at her anger was clear.
"You can't come," he repeated. "It's too dangerous."
"I'm not some helpless damsel in distress that needs saving," Hermione snapped.
"I never said you were," Cas said. "But any dimension created by the Trickster will be subjected to his rules."
"That's what I'm trying to say, though," Hermione said. "He's not a Trickster."
Castiel's frown deepened. "What is he, then?"
"He's a –"
As if someone was hearing her words – and Hermione was willing to bet every galleon in her Gringotts account that Gabriel was listening – Castiel vanished into thin air.
Hermione looked at the ceiling angrily.
"And I'm running away from my problems. Right."
If you told Sam a week ago that he would be stuck in TV Land, escorting a close-to-naked woman out of the room and away from Dean, there was no way he'd believe it.
And yet somehow, against all odds, he found himself doing exactly that.
"I am really, really, very sorry," he told her, "but, uh… we've got some work to do."
"But we did do work!" the woman said, winking at Dean. "In depth."
Sam closed the door behind her and turned, just in time to see Dean waving at her.
"You know Hermione's gonna kill you, right?"
"Nothing happened, Sammy," Dean said. "It's TV. There's no actual sex happening here. but I can sure as hell look."
Sam stopped for a moment, looking at his brother in disbelief.
"Yeah, she'll kill you," he said. "I'll help."
The recorded crowd laughed around them and Sam forced a smile on his face as he walked back towards Dean.
"How long do we have to keep doing this?" Dean asked through a forced smile of his own.
"I don't know," Sam said, causing the crowd to laugh again. "Maybe forever?" Another laugh. "We might die in here." Another laugh.
"How was that funny?" Dean asked in disbelief. "Vultures."
There was yet another round of laughter, and Sam was about to say something when the door burst open to reveal a very injured Castiel.
Cue applause.
"You okay?" Dean asked, taking a step towards the Angel.
"I don't have much time," was all Cas said in response.
"What happened?" Sam asked.
"I got out."
"From where?" Dean asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.
"Listen to me," Castiel said, ignoring the question. "Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be."
"What thing, the Trickster?"
"Hermione said it's not a Trickster."
A quick glance between Sam and Dean settled the question in both their minds. Hermione didn't tell either of them that it wasn't really a Trickster. But then, if it wasn't a Trickster…
"Then what is it?"
Cas opened his mouth to reply, only to be thrown against the wall. Neither Dean nor Sam had time to check on him, though, since at that exact moment the Trickster walked in, to the sound of many, many applause.
"Hello!" he called out happily.
There were more applause. And cheers.
Sam honestly couldn't wait to get out of this place.
"Thank you," the Trickster said. "Thank you, ladies." He turned to look at Castiel, who had duct tape over his mouth and was glaring back at him. "Hi, Castiel!" he said happily, waving his hand and sending Castiel back into the horror movie he just escaped from.
"You know him?" Sam asked, confused.
"Where did you just send him?" Dean asked.
"Relax, he'll live…" the Trickster said before letting out a small smile. "Maybe."
There was another round of friggin' laughter and Sam felt like he could punch something. Or someone. Mainly, the Trickster.
"Where's Hermione?" he asked.
"Safe," the Trickster replied.
"Well, forgive us for not taking your word on it," Dean snapped.
"Stop being dramatic," the Trickster rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't hurt her."
"Yeah, not buying it," Dean said. "And you know what else? I am done with the monkey dance, okay? We get it."
"Yeah?" the Trickster laughed. "Get what, hotshot?"
"Playing our roles, right?" Dean asked. "That's your game?"
"That's half the game."
"What's the other half?" Sam asked.
"Play your roles out there."
Sam didn't think Dean's frown could deepen, and yet it did. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"Oh, you know," the Trickster rolled his eyes. "Sam starring as Lucifer. Dean starring as Michael. Your celebrity death match. Play your roles."
"You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?" Sam asked in disbelief.
"Hells yeah," the Trickster laughed. "Let's light this candle!"
"We do that, the world will end."
"Yeah?" the Trickster questioned. "And… whose fault is that? Who popped Lucifer out of the box? Hmm?" he asked when neither brother replied. "Look, it's started. You started it. It can't be stopped. So let's get it over with!"
For a moment there was silence between the three, the only noise in the room being the Trickster's heavy breathing. Then, Dean spoke.
"Heaven or hell, which side you on?"
"I'm not on either side."
"Yeah, right," Dean shook his head. "You're grabbing ankle for Michael or Lucifer. Which one is it?"
"You listen to me, you arrogant dick." The Trickster's voice was light, and the smile remained on his face, but he was no longer laughing. "I don't work for either of those S.O.B.s. Believe me."
"Oh, you're somebody's bitch."
And just like that, the Trickster's smile was gone. He grabbed Dean by the collar of his shirt, slamming him into the wall. Sam tried to move forward, to help, only to find his feet glued to the floor.
"Don't you ever, ever presume to know what I am," the Trickster told Dean, their faces inches apart. "Now listen very closely. Here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play the roles that destiny has chosen for you."
"And if we don't?" Sam asked, only for the Trickster to grin.
"Then you'll stay here in TV Land," he said. "Forever. Three hundred channels and, uh, nothing's on."
And with a snap of his fingers, they were gone.