This thing has been edited a bit since I first started it 3 years ago. I've revisited it and decided to take it up again and I'm really excited to see where it's going to take me. It has a lot of stuff from season 11 and forwards, so consider this a spoiler alert if you haven't seen those.

Please leave a review

...

Patrolling the halls was either mind numbingly boring or so eventful, bordering on dangerous, that she had to crash on the couch in the common room afterwards out of sheer exhaustion.

Today had been nightmarish. George had gone a little crazy on the first Hogsmeade weekend and had given half off everything to the students. He had made a killing no doubt, but the castle was completely flooded with prank items. She loved a laugh, just like the rest but it was getting way out of hand. That, and none of the kids had the same kind of style and creativity like the Weasley twins in their glory days. These kids just bought a product and followed the directions on the box. In the end, it just became boring and predictable, not to mention messy. The good thing was that she knew all the counter charms by now, so most things were easy enough to undo. That evening she had vanished three Portable Swamps, siphoned away two cases of Giggle Gas, and disarmed no less than eighty-two decoy detonators. It was pure routine and she'd honestly rather spend the evening knitting and drinking tea.

She was far too young to be thinking like that. Granted, she was one of the oldest students there, but she was still just nineteen. Aged and hardened from war, but still nineteen. She was supposed to enjoy life! That was just a bit hard, when she saw dead bodies every time, she turned a corner. Sometimes she regretted returning for her final year. If someone asked her, why she had returned, she wouldn't be able to answer. Hermione Granger was supposed to be in control, she was supposed to have a plan, but these days she was drifting, running on autopilot and autopilot for Hermione Granger meant studying.

She was so lost in thought as she went into the next classroom on her route, that she almost walked into a huge wall of golden fluff. Startled, she backpedalled a few steps, realizing that the great wall of fluff was actually a set of six wings in various golden shades. Attached to the wings was a man with light brown hair, in dire need of a trim. He was sucking on a lollipop, looking out of the window with such a gleeful expression, that she was momentarily distracted. He was clearly an adult, but he looked so carefree and childish, and she envied him.

She leaned against the doorway, observing him a little. He was staring out of the window as a scene unfolded with a quite significant amount of dung bombs and some seventh year Gryffindors who she knew had been bullying first year Slytherins. She found it hard to pity her house mates. After a while, she decided to address him.

"Those wings make quite the fashion statement." She told him, with a lifted eyebrow. The deer in the headlights expression on his face was priceless, and she felt her mouth tugging ever so slightly into a smile.

His surprised expression turned into a frown, and he ruffled his wings, unsuccessfully trying to hide them behind his back.

"You aren't supposed to see those!" he practically growled at her after taking out the lollipop.

"Why not? Is it a transfiguration accident? If it helps your embarrassment, I was once turned into a cat for about a week." She tried and shrugged, studying the wings from a distance, admiring the way they shimmered in different tones of gold.

He looked at her indignant and confused. "No! These babies are not accidental, or any kind of statement! They are, however, supposed to be invisible, so how in the fiery pits of hell, can you see them?" He continued incredulously in a horribly American accent.

"Well, they are honestly hard to miss. How did you even get through the door, with those?" She wondered, walking closer to him.

The man looked at her like she was an idiot and crossed his arms defensively, but answered nonetheless

"They're metaphysical, so that isn't really a problem." He ground out defensively.

"They're beautiful." She whispered in awe, reaching out her hand. He shivered, as her fingers ran down one of the large feathers. He suddenly turned around, so the wings were out of her reach. He gave her a slow once over, that made her feel incredibly naked

"Well, missy. The same thing could be said about you." He said, stalking towards her with the grace of a feline. She gulped. She knew she was in trouble, in more ways than once. He was an immensely powerful man, if he was even human, which she very much doubted by now. But the way he was smirking at her, as if she were some kind of dessert, waiting to be gobbled up, made butterflies the size of eagles soar around in her stomach.

She looked up, at met his eyes, and they were incredible. She had never seen anything like them, like a kaleidoscope of gold and green, and they confirmed her thoughts; He was most definitely not human.

With the speed of light, he grabbed her, and in less than the blink of an eye, they were somewhere else, that definitely wasn't Hogwarts. It looked like a living room, and a very opulent one of those. She looked around in wonder, at the forest green wallpaper and the furniture, all covered in leaf gold, and cream-colored fabric, that looked impossibly soft.

"Now, what are you, girl." He growled and released her.

"What do you mean, what am I? You're the one with the wings - what are you?"

"What am I? How rude!"

"You just asked me that exact same question!" Hermione shrieked.

"Fine." The man huffed. "Just give me your name."

"Hermione." She said, crossing her arms.

"Now, species?"

Hermione rolled her eyes "Well, I'm a witch, but you ought to know that, since you were at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry."

"Oh no, Honey, you're much more, than just a witch." He intoned and started circling her like a vulture.

Hermione scrunched her eyebrows in bewilderment. "I'm quite sure I'm just a witch. A pretty powerful one, if I'm being immodest though." She said, blushing.

He smiled at her in a way that could only be described as predatory "I don't mind immodesty at all, Gorgeous" he said with an eyebrow waggle.

Hermione was getting whiplash from this guy's change in moods, and she blushed even more at the innuendo. She cleared her throat

"Your turn."

"Just call me Gabriel" he frowned.

"And species?" She imitated him.

Gabriel pursed his lips "Try to guess - we'll make it a game, every time you get it wrong, you lose some clothes" he winked at her and threw himself on the nearest sofa.

"Are you out of your mind?" Hermione hissed scandalized

"Yeah, probably" he shrugged. "But it's the only way you're going to know" He winked at her.

She huffed "Not a chance"

"Aw, come on! What's a guy got to do to get a little action here? Where's the fun in you?"

"I'm plenty of fun" she retorted.

"Oh yeah? Where? In your knee socks?" he smirked, making her stick her tongue out at him. He stared hungrily, as the pink little thing came out between her lips.

"Now, that was immature. I approve."

"I won't ask, then. Either way, you're not a wizard. It's impossible to apparate or disapparate within Hogwarts grounds" Hermione sniffed. "Where are we anyway?" She asked, looking around in search of an exit.

"Let's just call it my nest, shall we?" Gabriel purred.

Hermione gave him a deadpan look. "Great. I've been captured by a bloody bird" She grumbled. Gabriel snapped his fingers, and suddenly her knee socks were missing.

"That wasn't a guess! Give them back!"

"Nope. Even if it wasn't a guess, I would still keep them because of your cheek."

"Take me back to Hogwarts. Now. I have to finish my rounds anyways" Hermione huffed.

Gabriel rolled his eyes "Rounds, wow. Good times." Hermione just scowled at him.

"Fine" He sighed. He grabbed her around the waist, and she closed her eyes. they reappeared in the same classroom they had left from. She slowly opened her eyes, to find him staring intently at her, with those impossible eyes, and before she knew it, he was kissing her. One of his hands found its way to the back of her neck, tangling itself in her hair, the other stayed at her lower back, pressing her closer. She sighed as her eyes fluttered closed and she felt his tongue move against her lips. She slowly opened her mouth, letting him in. He tasted like the lollipop he had eaten when she found him – she had always loved cherry.

He broke the kiss and smirked at her dazed expression.

"Laters" He winked at her and disappeared with a whoosh.

Hermione stomped her foot petulantly. She didn't know what had gotten into her. That was not the way she was supposed to behave. Hermione Granger was logical, always processing everything before taking a decision. Letting some guy kiss her, not even knowing what bloody species he was, just wasn't even sane.

Even if he was handsome, and charming and an amazing kisser.

She sighed to herself. She would probably wake up in a moment. Only dreams were that surreal.

What. The. Hell, Gabriel thought to himself. He had gotten so flustered, that he almost landed in the kitchen sink.

Nothing about that entire situation was possible. He was deep undercover again, hiding from the Win-sisters and Cassie, and then this chick shows up! Albeit a hot, young, British chick in a perfectly pressed school uniform, with matching knee socks…

Back on track, Gabriel!

Hotness aside – she could see his wings, which wasn't supposed to be possible, unless she was an archangel at the very least, and he really couldn't see himself being that attracted to any of his brothers. He would have been able to recognise them too.

She was powerful, that was for sure, but she wasn't an angel, and he was quite sure she wasn't a demon, she was too hot for that (no pun intended) but then what was she?

He went into his living room and threw himself on the couch, deciding to put off the mystery of her species, in favour of more exciting thoughts. He smirked, thinking about her red cheeks as he pulled out the knee socks from his pocket. He should have taken another clothing item instead. He thought about the kiss he had given her, which had thrown him completely off kilter. That had been stupid – he still didn't know if she was a threat, and either way, he wasn't supposed to get all twisted and moony eyed over some girl, who may or may not be human. He was supposed to be a smart, self-preservationist. Fooling around with some girl, not knowing anything about her, was the opposite of that. Then again, didn't he always fool around with people he didn't know? Difference was that she knew something about him, that could potentially be disastrous for him, if she were to tell the wrong people.

He frowned to himself, making a decision.

Her room was pretty neat, he had to admit. Not as luxurious as the warehouse he had turned into his own home, but hers was in a castle, which was so much cooler. Location, location, location. Of course, living in a castle would defy the purpose of laying low.

He felt a bit like a creep, as he stood, observing her as she slept in her bed, but figured it would be worth it. Hopefully, Stockholm Syndrome would kick in fast.

He touched her forehead gently, pushing her into a deeper sleep. Then he picked her up, bridal style, and brought her home.

He stood for a while in his living room, not knowing what to do. He could probably have planned this better. It would be presumptuous to put her in his own bed, right? In the end he gave in and put her gently down on the couch.

He crouched in front of her face, studying it. "What the hell are you?" he whispered. He had been right about her being beautiful, it wasn't just some fake flattery, which he was otherwise an expert in giving, in order to get people and other things to sleep with him or at least convince them not to kill him.

Her skin was light and silky smooth, with rosy cheeks. What fascinated him the most, were her lips, which reminded him of rose petals from the Garden in Heaven itself. Her eyes were beautiful too, he knew, even if he couldn't see them at the moment – brown like his favourite chocolate, infused with caramelly golden flecks. He was close to slapping himself for waxing poetry like that, even if it was only in his own mind.

Her eyes were starting to move underneath her eyelids, either from dreaming or waking up. He felt tempted to take a peek at her dreams but ended up panicking.

What the hell had he been thinking, bringing her here? She was going to be uber pissed! And then what was he supposed to do with her? Tie her to a chair? While tying her up seemed very tempting in several scenarios, it might not be the best call if he wanted her to collaborate.

Caught up in his own internal ranting, he hadn't realized, that big brown eyes were already staring at him.

Hermione was watching, as hundreds of expressions flittered over Gabriel's during his obviously conflicted internal monologue. He wasn't supposed to be there, when she woke up – he was supposed to be a dream. Slowly she realized her location - she was lying on the couch she had admired the day before. She frowned.

"Why am I here?" She ground out, trying to keep her temper in check. The deer in the headlights-thing was cute as ever, but at the moment it served more to annoy her.

"Um, I can explain…" He trailed off.

"Yes?" She asked expectantly.

"Well, why don't we have a cup of tea or something? You Brits love that, right?" He deflected, to Hermione's frustration. He moved to sit on the couch opposite her and snapped his fingers. A full English tea set appeared on the coffee table, complete with scones, cream puffs and little sandwiches, making Hermione lose her breath.

"How did you do that?" She asked shakily. His only reply was a smirk

"No one can produce food out of thin air. It's one of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, so how did you do it?" She growled, glaring at him.

"Well, Sweetheart, that brings us back to our original discussion. What am I?" He smirked at her deviously, eyeing her cupcake pyjamas.

"I'm not playing your game." She sneered at him.

"Fine, be like that. I'm an angel – an archangel, specifically." Gabriel rolled his eyes at her, giving her a little mock salute.

She gave him a deadpan look "Right, and I happen to be a mermaid."

He glared at her, ruffling his wings behind him, stretching them to their full span. It seemed as if all the oxygen had left the room, everything around them went darker, except for Gabriel and his wings, which shone brightly.

"Alright. Angel." Hermione gulped.

Suddenly the air returned to the room, and Gabriel was back to smirking at her, leaning against the couch. She was again fascinated by his wings, and the way they seemed to go through the couch rather than getting squished behind him. She shook herself out of it. "That still doesn't explain why I'm here."

Gabriel sighed "I'm kind of in hiding. You, seeing those babies back there, really isn't normal. I'm trying to figure out how it's possible. I spent millennia in hiding among primordial deities, and they never suspected a thing. So, what makes you so special?" He booped her nose.

"I'm not really special. I'm just a normal witch, a bit more powerful than average, but I prefer to think, that it comes from hard work." She replied, bewildered.

"Hard work? Are you for real?" Gabriel scoffed. "Power is power, either you have it, or you don't. Hard work is totally overrated if you ask me."

"Well, not all of us can just snap our fingers and have everything, some of us have to follow the rules." Hermione huffed.

Gabriel lifted an eyebrow "Except, something tells me you're not above breaking them from time to time, am I right?"

"Well, if I could produce food out of thin air, I would definitely have had a better time last year." She mumbled to herself.

That's when Gabriel noticed the other things, that her beauty had masked before. The clavicle that was a little too pronounced, the small scar on her throat and the way that she seemed to curl in on herself, her eyes subtly darting around, looking for exits that weren't there. That girl had been through hell, metaphorically at the very least. What had happened to her?

"Back on track." She interrupted his musings "Still doesn't explain, why you felt the need to kidnap me in the middle of the night" Her tone got increasingly angry.

Gabriel rubbed his face. "I can't have you going around, blabbing to everyone that you saw a dude with wings, especially a triple set."

"Well, excuse you! I most definitely do not blab!" She exclaimed, indignant.

"All the same. I also worry, that you might need protection." He continued. "If you can see those wings, who knows what else you can see? Demon faces? Fricking God? You know how many would want to get a piece of that action?"

"I can take care of myself just fine." She ground out.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, and swift as lightning, he had her pinned to the couch.

She looked like she was just about to fight back but relented and glowered at him. "Fine." She conceded, but Gabriel had a feeling that she probably could defend herself, at least against mortal opponents.

"Plus, I also thought you might need a bit of fun. You definitely seem tired of that stick you have, sitting in your ass." He shrugged, still pinning her underneath him.

She scrunched up her nose. "Must you be so crude?" She sniffed, making Gabriel laugh out loud as he released her.

"Oh, I'm going to have fun, corrupting you! Let's go." He stated maniacally, taking her hand to pull her up.

"Go where? I'm still in my pyjamas." Hermione pointed out.

"Oh, right." Gabriel looked down with a lewd smirk, and with a snap of his fingers, Hermione found herself in a school uniform, similar to the one she had worn the day before, with the exception, that the skirt was considerably shorter and several of the shirt buttons that were supposed to be at the top were missing.

Gabriel grinned at her disgruntled expression. "Showtime!"