Chapter 22
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, 2nd November 2011
The clouds were overcast, dull grey and threatening rain to come. The morning was cool as the brothers left the castle. It was strange how fast they were getting used to this new life in the magical world. Just a few days ago, orange pumpkins floated above the House Tables in the Great Hall amongst the candles as they celebrated Halloween.
But none of that compared to the worst day on the calendar: November 2nd. All too soon, they awoke on that dreaded morning. This date would go down in infamy in the Winchester's lives as the day their mother was ripped from them. And not only that, but it was also the same day that Sam lost Jessica. Sam grieved the most over the loss of Jessica. He was only a baby when his mother died. Jessica was murdered on the 22nd anniversary of Mary Winchester's demise. He finally understood why his father started this insane crusade for his mother. He felt guilty for all the fights and petty crap he put his family through. Even though Dean said he forgave him for all of it, he still felt bad that he wasn't able to get his father's forgiveness. That would haunt him for the rest of his life.
They got up and washed with dread, slowing their motions to a near crawl. It was always a tough day for them. Nothing about that changed since coming across the Atlantic.
"Mornin," Dean yawned as they met up outside their rooms. He looked about as bad as Sam felt. His hair was in a mess, his eyes were bleary and red-rimmed. He muttered something about allergies as Sam appraised him.
"Hey," Sam replied. "How'd you sleep?"
"Like shit," Dean shrugged. Sam wasn't surprised. He hadn't slept well himself. But they didn't talk about it, at least not until they were done with the day and could shut themselves in at night. "I called Cas last night. He actually answered for once."
"Yeah?" Sam asked as they walked toward the Great Hall.
"Well, I figured since we're doing Angels in class today, I guess we should get the info from the source. Guest speaker sort of thing."
Sam stopped short, causing Dean to come back to him. "Wait, you want Cas to talk to the kids?" Sam asked incredulously.
"He's the expert," Dean shrugged casually, resuming his walk down to the Head Table.
"Dean, we've barely heard from him since August. He's busy fighting a civil war up in Heaven, I don't think he can come to play schoolteacher right now."
"He agreed," Dean said as they sat down. "Said he could spare a few hours. He said he was sorry he was away for so long,"
"Okay, if you think that's a good idea…" Sam laughed a little. "Why does he always answer for you?"
"I dunno," Dean shrugged and smirked. "Maybe that 'profound bond' thing he mentioned."
"What?"
"Nothing," Dean replied, internally smacking his forehead. Shut up dipshit…. He thought to himself. Death's words echoed in his head. 'Don't scratch the wall….'
They were quiet after that. Both choosing to avoid the elephant in the room. They walked to their classroom in silence after breakfast.
Dean sent out a quick prayer to Cas as the students began to file in.
"Morning Professors," Hermione said, still wary of calling them by their names.
"Good morning, Miss Granger," Sam nodded at her.
"Good morning, Sam." She opened her pack and took out her book, quill, and parchment.
"What will we be studying today?"
"You'll see." Dean smiled mischievously.
"This can't go well…." Ron frowned as he and Harry entered the class with the rest of the students. Sam waited till everyone was in their seats, in the groups they assigned, until he began speaking.
"Can anyone tell me about Angels?" Sam looked at them.
"They wear white frilly gowns and play the harp?" Seamus smarted off from the back row.
Just then a gust of wind and a flutter of wings erupted from behind him disrupting the parchment and toppling over a stack of books.
"I don't own a harp," the man in the trench coat tilted his head. Focusing his attention on the scared boy in the fourth row. "Angels are warriors of God. Only a few have taken interest in being a harpist." His face relaxed into a smirk, enjoying his private joke, as he walked down the aisle up to the front of the class where Sam and Dean were waiting.
Sam looked at the mess the Angel's dramatic entrance caused. "Well, there goes all the organizing that I spent a week doing."
"Yes, Angels are warriors of God, who you rebelled against," Dean explained as he regarded the Angel.
"Everyone, I would like to introduce you to Castiel, our special guest lecturer for today." Sam stepped aside to give Cas the floor.
"Hello, human offspring." Cas formally addressed the class. There was an uncomfortable silence. Dean had to turn his back on them to hide his embarrassment. He groaned in frustration and smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Just like AA Cas…"
Sam cleared his throat and tried to gain control of the class again. "OK, does anyone else have a theory about Angels? Anyone besides Seamus?" Hermione raised her hand. "Yes, Miss Granger."
"Angels are supernatural beings found in Christianity, Judaism, Zoroastrianism, and Islam. Angel comes from the Latin word Angelus, which came from the Greek word, Angelos, meaning 'messenger'.
"Wow, kid, keep this up, and you could be teaching the class for us," Dean smirked as he turned to Cas. "She pegged you good," Cas said nothing but stared straight ahead. The students were still a little intimidated by him. It was one thing to see creatures in memories, but to physically have one appear in their classroom on near command.
"Well done," Sam smiled. He started to read from the book. "According to these religions, Angels typically act as messengers from God. Though superhuman, Angels can assume human form and according to the Hebrew Bible, often appeared to people in the shape of humans of extraordinary beauty. They are also described as pure and bright and are said to be formed of fire and encompassed by light. Angels are thought to possess wings and are depicted that way in Christian, Jewish, and Zoroastrian art where they are also commonly depicted with halos. In the Bible, Angels are a medium of God's power; they exist to execute God's will. Angels reveal themselves to individuals as well as to the whole nation, to announce events, either good or bad, affecting humans."
"An Angel is created by God, able to manifest physically on Earth by occupying what is called a vessel. That is the safest and most conventional way for Angels to interact with humans on Earth as their true voices and appearances can kill," Cas informed the class. "We are not omniscient beings, although our knowledge, especially that of Archangels, is extensive. Our power exists in the form of Grace, which can be removed to be reborn human. Removing Grace, however, is said to be very painful."
"There are many levels of Angel. I am a Seraph. We are a higher class, above normal Angels. There are higher ranking Angels than myself, known as Archangels. There are four. Michael, Lucifer, Raphael and Gabriel." Castiel did not speak any more about the four Archangels; there was no need. One was dead, and two others still imprisoned in the Cage.
Lavender raised her hand.
"Yes?"
"Lucifer, do you mean the devil? Sir…" she asked in a slightly trembling voice.
"Lucifer, yes, he was a fallen Angel. Cast down by God for threatening his human creations," Cas continued.
All the students, not just Hermione, were frantically scribbling down every word. "They never paid that much attention to my lectures," Sam complained quietly.
"That's why Sammy, they're lectures. Hard to believe you can even make hunting boring," Dean muttered back. "And don't piss off the nerd Angels."
"We can be killed, but it is difficult. We can be killed using an Angel Blade," Cas told the class as a long silver pointed blade unsheathed from his sleeve and he showed them. There were murmurs amongst the class.
"The true form of Angels can vary. Some are considered beautiful; others have four faces and six wings."
"What is your angelic form then?" Cas looked to see who asked, and it was a pale blonde sickly-looking boy.
"What is your name?" Cas asked him.
"Draco, Draco Malfoy." The boy stood with a smug smile on his face.
"Well, then Draco, Draco Malfoy, my true Angelic form is the size of the Chrysler Building."
The students looked at one another questioningly.
"It's a building in New York City," Sam explained. "Sit down Mr Malfoy. Please continue Castiel."
"Show off," Dean snickered quietly.
"Most Angels prefer to appear to humans as a brilliant white light, which can burn people's eyes out sometimes. So, for those reasons, we prefer to communicate with humans through dreams or vessels."
"So why don't you demonstrate for us?" Malfoy sneered.
"I wouldn't be able to show you, as I said earlier. I would melt your eyes from your sockets…"
"Bloody brilliant!" a Gryffindor student laughed as Malfoy sat down.
"OK Cas, I think they get the idea. Let's continue on with what we are going to show them." Dean patted Cas on the shoulder before he could continue telling the student's creepier stories about Angels.
"Okay, so that leads up to the memories, I'm going to explain how we met Cas," Dean told the class. "Anyone any ideas?"
Hermione's hand shot up. Dean pointed to her.
"You mentioned in the Hellhound class. An Angel rescued you from Hell," she told him
"Yep, gold star for you," Dean grinned.
"Dean, I don't see how an astronomical object is a reward," Cas frowned.
"I'll explain later Cas," Dean shook his head. "When I went to Hell after my Demon deal, Cas was the one to pull me out of the fire. Literally."
"My Garrison was tasked with the mission of rescuing Dean Winchester from Hell. We descended into Hell and fought the Demons to get to Dean. We lost a few Angels to the armies of Hell in the process, but I managed to pull him from the Pit, and I rebuilt his body once on Earth and brought him back to life."
Sam turned to the Pensive. "Yes, the memory we are going to show you is how we first came to know Castiel and some of the times that he got us out of some tough scrapes."
"More like saving our asses," Dean muttered as he stepped in first followed by Cas and the students. Sam brought up the rear.
Dean and Bobby were in an old barn, and hundreds of sigils covered the walls.
"You sure you did the ritual right?" Dean asked and Bobby gave him a look.
"Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?" he grinned.
Sam chuckled. "Shut up." Dean frowned.
Suddenly a loud rattling shook the roof. Dean and Bobby armed themselves with shotguns and took their positions at the far end of the warehouse.
"Wishful thinking, but maybe it's just the wind," Dean said sarcastically. The door burst open and Castiel entered. The light bulbs above his head shattered in a shower of sparks as he passed them. As he approached, Dean and Bobby both opened fire, but the shots had no effect. Dean took the demon-killing knife as Castiel got close.
"Who are you?" Dean demanded.
"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," Castiel replied simply.
"Wow... quite the entrance Castiel." Neville smiled.
"Thank you, small human," Castiel smiled.
"Oh my god..." Sam wiped his face with his hand.
"Yeah. Thanks for that," Dean said casually.
Dean reared back and plunged the knife into Castiel's heart. Castiel looked down and pulled it out, dropping it to the floor.
"You tried to stab him with the knife?" Sam said with a raised eyebrow.
"It was not effective," Cas replied. Dean rolled his eyes.
"Duh…"
Bobby attacked and without looking, Castiel grabbed Bobby's gun and used it to swing him around. Castiel touched Bobby's forehead with his fingertips and Bobby crumpled to the ground.
"We need to talk, Dean. Alone," Castiel said quietly. Dean crouched over Bobby, checking his pulse. He glared at Castiel.
"Your friend's alive," Castiel told him.
"You tried to hurt him?" Hermione looked to the Angel in alarm.
"Not intentionally..." Castiel shrugged.
"If anything, Bobby got a good night's sleep that way." Dean offered in the Angel's defence.
"Who are you?" Dean shot back, ignoring his words.
"Castiel."
"Yeah, I figured that much, I mean what are you?"
"I'm an Angel of the Lord."
"Get the hell out of here. There's no such thing," Dean shook his head.
"This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith," said Castiel, stepping closer. Suddenly, lightning struck outside, and behind Castiel were the shadows of two giant wings behind him. The lightning faded and his wings disappeared.
"Wow," Lavender Brown whispered. She bit her lip nervously as she moved closer to Ron. Ron shuffled away.
"Some Angel you are.," Dean deflected. "You burned out that poor woman's eyes."
"I warned her not to spy on my true form. It can be… overwhelming to humans, and so can my real voice. But you already knew that."
"That is why we do not look upon an Angel's true form." Cas looked at the students.
That stopped Dean short. "You mean the gas station and the motel. That was you talking?"
Castiel nodded. "Buddy, next time, lower the volume."
"That was my mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive my true visage. I thought you would be one of them. I was wrong."
"And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?" Dean mocked. Castiel looked down at himself. "This? This is… a vessel."
"You're possessing some poor bastard?" he exclaimed.
"He's a devout man, he actually prayed for this."
"Well, I'm not buying what you're selling, so who are you really?"
"I told you." Castiel frowned.
"Right. And why would an Angel rescue me from Hell?"
"Good things do happen, Dean."
"Not in my experience."
The students looked to Dean, worried about his grim outlook on life.
"What's the matter? You don't think you deserve to be saved?"
"Why'd you do it?"
"Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."
"God?" Ron muttered sceptically.
The memory changed. They saw Dean leaning against the Impala. The radio came on, very scratchy.
"Dean!" Castiel's voice sounded from the car's radio. Dean leaned in the driver's side window.
"Cas?"
"Yeah, it's me," Castiel replied. Dean got back in the car.
"You gotta stop poking around in my dreams. I need some me time," Dean said.
"Listen to me very closely. This isn't a dream," Castiel replied. Dean looked around.
"Then what is it?" Dean said, confused.
"Deep down, you already know." Dean stayed still for a moment, his eyes widening.
"I'm dead," he breathed.
"Condolences," Castiel replied.
"Where am I?" Dean asked.
"Heaven," Castiel told Dean.
"Heaven?" The students murmured in amazement.
The memory morphed, and suddenly, they were in a bar. A man was behind the counter and Sam and Dean saw themselves sitting there with a drink each.
"That was our friend Ash. He died in an accident a few years ago," Sam explained.
"Good God, the Roadhouse. It even smells the same," Dean said, smiling.
"Bud, blood and beer nuts. It's the best smell in the world." He walked behind the bar and snapped his fingers. "How 'bout a cold one? Up here? No hangover."
"So… no offence-" Sam began.
"How did a dirtbag like me end up in a place like this? I've been saved, man. I was my congregation's number one snake handler," Ash interrupted. Sam smiled.
"And you said this was your heaven?" Sam asked.
"Yup!" Ash grinned. "My own… personal…" Ash shotgunned his beer while Sam and Dean watched with eyebrows raised. He burped.
"And when the Angels jumped us? We were…" Sam trailed off.
"In your heaven," Ash finished.
"So, there are two heavens?" Sam guessed.
"No. More like a hundred billion. So, no worries, it'll take those Angel boys a minute to catch up," Ash grinned.
"What?" Dean asked, confused.
"Don't think about it too hard guys. It's like how the portraits work in the castle." Sam explained for the confused students.
"See, you gotta stop thinking of heaven as one place. It's more like a butt-load of places all crammed together. Like Disneyland except without all the anti-Semitism," Ash explained. Dean and Sam still looked confused.
"Disneyland?" Sam asked.
"Mm-hmm. Yeah. See you got Winchester land. Ash land. A whole mess of everybody-else-lands. Put them all together: Heaven. Right? At the centre of it all? Is the Magic Kingdom. The Garden."
"So, everybody gets a little slice of paradise," Dean stated.
"Pretty much. A few people share—special cases. What not," Ash said.
"What do you mean 'special'?" Dean asked.
"Oh, you know. Like, uh, soul-mates." Silence met his statement. Dean and Sam didn't look at each other. "Anyway. Most people can't leave their own private Idaho's."
"But you ain't most people," Dean pointed out with a grin.
"Nope. They ain't got my skills. Hell, I've been all over. Johnny Cash. André the Giant. Einstein. Sam, that man can mix a White Russian. Hell, the other day? I found Mallanāga Vātsyāyana."
"Who?" Sam asked.
"He wrote the Kama Sutra. Huh, that boy's heaven? Ah, sweaty. Confusing," Ash laughed.
"All this from a guy who used to sleep on a pool table," Dean replied.
"Yeah. Now that I'm dead, I'm living, man, a whole lot more," Ash smiled as the memory faded.
They exited the memory, and the students went to their seats.
"As you saw," Dean began. "Everyone does get their own slice of Heaven. At the centre of it all, there's the Garden. You relive your greatest hits."
"Any questions?" Sam asked. A hand rose.
"Yeah?"
"How did you end up in Heaven in the first place?" Seamus asked.
"We were shot by hunters," Sam replied simply. "The Angels brought us back afterward."
The students were very quiet after that.
⸸
The Great Hall was buzzing with conversation later that day; the students and teachers were still talking about the Halloween feast. Minerva congratulated Filius on the beautiful decorations and Hagrid looked positively giddy over his large pumpkins that were still on display in the Great Hall.
But the boys couldn't appreciate the room, they were locked in their own memories after their classes were done. Barely hanging on, they kept thinking if they could make it for a few more hours, then they could fall to pieces. Neither was in a mood for eating. This was a hard day for both brothers, and they wanted things to be as quiet as possible. But when had any of their plans actually worked? As soon as they entered the Great Hall, they saw Snape glaring at them from the Head Table. Sam noticed his brother's reaction to the man. Dean also wasn't in the mood to be interrogated by anyone.
"Why do I have the feeling that this is going to end badly?" he asked rhetorically.
"Don't worry, I'm not going to start anything unless he does," Dean muttered darkly as he cracked his knuckles and psyched himself up like he was getting ready for a fight. Sam sighed and followed Dean to the head table.
"Professors." Dean greeted them with a smile.
"Good afternoon, Sam, Dean" Pomona greeted them brightly. The boys smiled at her, a little forced. Dean and Sam sat, lifting a glass and said solemnly and quietly. "To Mom."
They clinked glasses. They heard Snape give a small scoff. Today, that was enough to set Dean off. This emo drama queen had finally pushed him over the edge.
"What is your problem man?" Dean snapped at Snape.
"I have no problem, man." Snape narrowed his eyes at them, mocking his tone of voice.
"Well, you must have something twisting your emo panties in a twist." Dean retorted.
"Because everyone else has welcomed us here with open arms except you, therefore you must have a problem with us."
"Dean, stop it." Sam tried to restrain him, but Dean shook him off. Snape put his fork down and turned to face them.
"Some of us actually work to provide these students with a quality education teaching them fundamental skills that they will use in the future, not frolicking in the past fighting bogeymen." He glowered. There was a whoop coming from the Slytherin table.
"We are teaching these kids practical skills that won't get them killed on the battlefield," Dean replied hotly. "In case you hadn't noticed Voldemort is massing an army against you!"
By this time both men were standing and had an audience of not just the staff, but the students as well. The entire Great Hall fell silent. "Or does the great and mighty Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor already know that?"
"I don't have to explain myself to a Muggle like you!" Snape hissed.
Dean looked back at his brother and then turned back to Snape. "I'm no different from you."
Snape scowled. "We are nothing alike, you swine! Besides, what proof do we have that you two aren't with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and are trying to undermine Hogwarts from the inside?"
"How dare you." Sam cut in before Dean could respond. "We were asked to come here by your people." Dean's eyes widened in surprise, not expecting Sam to jump to his defence.
Something changed in Snape's expression, as he gave a sudden smirk. "Interesting day for you two, isn't it?"
"What are you talking about?" Dean growled at him.
"Severus…." Minerva eyed him warily. "Sit, please."
"Curious that the two women in your lives met their untimely demise in quite a similar way, and on the same day as well." Snape sneered.
"How would you know that? We didn't tell anyone about-" Sam was about to mention Jess but was interrupted by Dean shoving his chair back into the wall.
"Shut the hell up," Dean moved to leave. Albus watched the scene, calm, ready to intervene if needed. "And you didn't answer my brother."
"We all have secrets, Mr Winchester…." Severus regarded them both with cold black eyes. "It only takes a little bit of prodding to uncover them all. The mind can be like an open book."
"Are you poking around our heads?" Dean glared. His blood turned to ice in his veins. His mind immediately went to Sam. The wall was very unstable. He already had one close call while Dean was with him. But how many other headaches was Sam hiding? And now he knew that Severus could just go poking around wherever he wanted?
"Severus, that is quite enough," Dumbledore interrupted. "Sam and Dean are my guests. I will not have them harmed. I will speak to you later." Snape gave a curt nod and sat down.
The chatter resumed and soon the hall was abuzz with voices. Dean tried to calm down, tried to control his anger, tried to remember that as Albus said, they were guests. He tried, but it was so damn hard. Dean and Sam didn't stick around long after that.
"That bastard. Are you sure you're okay?" Dean asked again.
"I'm fine Dean," Sam replied.
"He could have cracked the damn wall. Maybe we should shag ass and go back home." Dean fumed.
"And leave the kids defenceless? You know we can't do that," Sam frowned. "It's over now. I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Dean looked over at him.
"Yes!" Sam growled. "Dammit, I'm fine, okay?" He slammed the door to his room in Dean's face.