Chapter 23

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry, 6th November 2011

Dark grey clouds littered the sky, the rain threatening to rear its ugly head. Dean pulled his scarf a little closer around him, holding back a shiver. Though the weather was depressing it couldn't dampen the buzz of excitement. It was almost like electricity jolted through the crowd that surrounded Sam and Dean. The students were talking amongst themselves excitedly. Dean and Sam walked toward the Quidditch Pitch.

"This should be fun," Sam noted as they sat down in the stands with the other teachers. Both brothers made a point not to look at Severus Snape, sitting at the end of the teacher's stand, Horace Slughorn by his side.

Dean glowered as he looked over at Severus, then he noticed Albus looking over at him, nodding with a smile. Dean nodded back, before sitting down beside Sam. His mind drifted back to four days ago. He'd needed assurance that it wouldn't happen again.

After he checked to see that Sam was asleep in his bed, Dean walked through the darkened corridors. Other than the occasional snoring coming from the sleeping portraits, the halls were eerily quiet. Only the sound of his footsteps met him as he walked. The Gargoyle was in sight. Out of nowhere, a wild cackle pierced the air and the torches in the corridor that he was in went out. "Great…." He frowned, trying to pull out his wand. "Thanks, Peeves! What was that damn light spell again? Lumin, something? Oh, right, Lumos!"

The tip of his wand illuminated, and Dean stepped back in shock when he saw the face of Albus in front of him, looking quite amused.

"Dammit!" Dean stepped back. "Why do you keep doing that?!"

"It keeps the staff on their toes." Albus smiled.

"I can see that," Dean nodded. "Can we talk?"

"I figured you were coming to see me. Would you like to step into my office?"

They walked up the stone steps and into the office. Albus gestured for him to sit, and Dean plonked himself into the chair.

"What can I help you with Dean?" Albus asked, he rested his elbow on the table and tented his hands under his chin, looking at him through his half-moon spectacles.

"We need to talk about your DADA teacher." Dean tried to keep his tone casual. "What he did today was not okay… I'm sure you saw the Prophet article, but it's true, all of it."

Albus nodded but did not speak.

"We both spent time in Hell. Sam, more recently. He spent a year locked in a Cage with Lucifer himself. It screwed his head up. We found a way to hold the Hell memories back."

"The wall, I heard you mention it at breakfast." Albus nodded.

"I never mentioned anything about it this morning," Dean frowned.

"I apologize," said Albus delicately, careful of how to proceed. "Severus and I are what is known as Legilimens. The study of Legilimency allows a witch or wizard to navigate through a person's mind and interpret one's findings."

"So, you two can read minds? You heard me thinking about it, didn't you?" His voice was ever so slightly accusatory.

"I do apologize for the inconvenience. It should never be used as an implement of torture or harm."

"Sam's mind is fragile at the minute. The wall could last a lifetime. Could. If it crumbles, he could die. I'm not taking that risk." Dean said in a determined voice. "The last thing he needs is for the two of you running loose in his head. So please, no poking around in his head." He tried to sound respectful, but the anger at the DADA Professor was still burning inside.

It took all Dean's strength not to shoot the bastard in the few days since Snape invaded Sam's mind. Despite the fact that he hadn't really done any damage, it was the fact that he was even looking that pissed Dean off the most. How fucking dare he poke around in their heads? And never mind all that, who knew what this could have done to Sam? What if it knocked some memories loose? Dean didn't know how much prodding the wall in Sam's head could take, but too much would spill the darkest secrets forward. There was no way in hell that he was risking that. Not a chance. Of course, he badgered Sam, resulting in a few sharp words from the younger brother.

And Sam wasn't lying. He felt fine. Sure, Snape was poking around in his head, but mind-reading wasn't that dangerous. Dean was just overreacting. Still, they decided staying away from Snape was for the best, or else the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher would end up with a bullet in his brain, no questions asked.

Of course, even the prospect of an exciting Quidditch match didn't keep the students from discussing the brothers again after the article. Whispers of their mother's murder travelled around the school as gossip, much to the brothers' chagrin. They tried to ignore it as they took their seats.

"Hello again you two," Minerva greeted with a smile. "Fine day for a match." They heard a soft laugh and looked to see Pomona looking quite amused.

"Minerva can be quite…. Ah… competitive," Pomona smiled. "You'd want to see what she did to Severus one time when he let a Slytherin blurt a Ravenclaw."

"Blurt?" Sam asked.

"He locked his broom handle with another player and tried to steer him off course," Filius chimed in, amused. "Minerva was furious."

"Of course, poor sportsmanship is not appreciated," Minerva said briskly.

"So how does this game even work?" Dean asked.

"Oh, of course, you don't-" Minerva began. "Each team has seven players: three Chasers, two Beaters, a Keeper, and a Seeker. There are three balls: a Quaffle, a Bludger and the Golden Snitch. You see these hoops?" she asked, pointing to the three fifty-foot-high golden poles with hoops on the end.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"The Chasers will throw the Quaffle to one another, to try to get it through one of the three hoops. Each goal is 10 points," she told them. "Oh, here we go," she smiled, looking down at the pitch. Dean and Sam followed her gaze and saw the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs walking out on the pitch. The referee, Madam Hooch, raised her wand to her mouth and spoke. Her voice was amplified across the pitch.

"Captains, shake hands."

They spotted Harry, who approached a boy who they recognized as Zacharias Smith, a sixth year.

The whistle sounded, and they watched as all the players rose into the air.

"So, how does this work? The Chasers try to get the Quaffle through the hoop to get points?" Sam confirmed, reminding Minerva of her forgotten explanation.

"Oh! Yes, of course. The Keepers guard the goals and try to stop the Quaffle from going through."

"Okay, so like soccer," Dean muttered.

"Do you see the small dark balls flying around the Pitch?" Both brothers nodded. "Those are Bludgers. They try to knock the players off their brooms. Two beaters have bats to try to protect their side from them." At that moment a Bludger whizzed over their heads after being knocked off course from hitting a Hufflepuff Chaser.

"Seriously?" Dean asked, surprised. "Being knocked off the broom at fifty-foot high in the air is part of it?"

"It can be a little dangerous, yes, but we have precautions," Minerva assured. "Madam Pomfrey is always on standby."

"Have the Bludgers ever killed anyone?" Sam asked.

"Never at Hogwarts. We've had a couple of broken jaws but nothing worse than that,"

"Like when young Mister Potter broke his arm." Pomona nodded. "Then that nutter Gilderoy turned it into jello…."

"Jello?" Dean asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"Lockheart was the DADA Professor in Potter's second year. He thought he could heal his arm, and accidentally removed the bones from his arm instead."

"And he was a Professor here?" Sam asked with a wide eye as Ginny scored a goal for Gryffindor.

"COME ON MAXINE!" Pomona yelled at her team's Keeper, then she turned to Sam. "Yes, we were all a bit surprised when Albus brought him on staff."

Minerva gave a tight frown but didn't say anything.

"So, is that what some of the students meant by the job being cursed?" Dean asked.

Filius looked at him, surprised.

"I looked into it. Not one DADA teacher has lasted longer than a year since the 80s," Sam replied. "We heard rumours."

"Sammy does his homework." Dean grinned.

"Yes, I do," Sam rolled his eyes. Minerva tried to contain herself as Ginny scored another goal, she looked over to Pomona who was going red in the face.

"Let's see if Potter made a good choice with Coote and Peakes. Shame the Weasley twins left… They were the best Beaters the Gryffindor team has had in years."

"Okay, so how do you win?" Dean asked.

"That's where Potter comes in. Potter is our Seeker. The Seeker has to weave in and out of all the players to catch the Golden Snitch. See the way he's darting around?" she said. Sam and Dean looked around to see the small blur that was Harry Potter zooming around the Pitch in what looked like an erratic fashion, darting this way and that. "Potter is trying to catch the Snitch. Once the Snitch is caught, the game ends. Quidditch matches have been known to last hours. I think the record is actually six months. It's very small and fast, which makes it hard to catch. The team's Seeker who catches it gains their team 150 points. Most of the time, the team that catches the Snitch wins, but not always. Potter has been on the team since his first year. It's unusual, but he has a talent. Fine Seeker, like his father."

Minerva looked positively giddy as she continued to watch. It was a side of her the boys never saw before. They could hear a soft voice from the commentator's box that echoed across the Pitch.

"That's Cadwallader of Hufflepuff with the Quaffle. He had a fight with Ginny Weasley in the match last year when she flew into him. I think it was on purpose. He was being quite rude about Gryffindor- Oh look! He's lost the Quaffle. Ginny took it. She's very nice… I like her."

By the end of her rambling, Dean and Sam were laughing. Filius was chuckling, and Minerva pinched the bridge of her nose. They watched as Ginny threw the Quaffle toward the goals, and it sailed past the Keeper.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Luna announced. The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors cheered, eliciting boos from the Slytherins and Hufflepuffs.

"Dude," Sam nudged his brother and pointed to the commentator box. Dean looked, expecting to see Luna standing in the box. It was Luna, but her head was covered in a pointed hat, topped with a stuffed lion's head. She tapped the hat with her wand and the lion's head let out a roar.

"Wow…" Dean laughed. "That's kinda weird but cool."

They focused their gaze on Harry, watching as he dove through the Chasers. There was a sudden cheer as Ron Weasley blocked an attempted goal by Hufflepuff.

"Are they singing?" Dean asked suddenly, looking at the scarlet Gryffindor stand.

And sure enough, they were. At the top of their lungs, they were belting out a lively tune.

'Weasley is our King,

Weasley is our King,

He didn't let the Quaffle in

Weasley is our King.

Weasley can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring,

That's why Gryffindors all sing:

Weasley is our King.'

The brothers smiled and let out a cheer. They could see Ron giving the cheering crowd a bow.

They could see the grin on his face from where they sat.

"Who would've thought Weasley would turn out to be such a good Keeper, though I suppose it's in his blood," Minerva commented after he blocked another goal. "Along with his twin brother's and Ginny, their older brother Charlie was on the team when he was in school."

"Oh," Dean nodded.

"He's had a big improvement since last year," Filius noted.

"He's charting his own path." Minerva nodded, looking at the boy circling the Gryffindor goals. "No longer riding on Miss Granger's coattails on schoolwork, and confident enough to step off Mr Potter's shadow." She smiled, proud of her student.

Dean smiled. "You're a good egg, Minnie." Minerva looked away at the compliment.

"My name is Minerva," she replied, as much as she tried to sound stern, she did not sound a hundred percent angry.

"Yes, Ma'am." Dean grinned. They turned their attention back to the match.

Sam and Dean watched Harry take a sudden dive and his hand extended. The announcement was made. "Potter has caught the Snitch. Gryffindor wins!" Luna exclaimed. The Gryffindors erupted into loud cheers.

"We won, Sammy!" Dean yelled with the other students. "We won!"

Sam laughed at his brother's excitement.

"What? This is kinda cool. I'm not getting my ass up there but yeah."

When most of the staff and students were gone, Sam and Dean walked onto the Pitch.

"Hey Harry, good game," Dean called as he saw him talking to his teammates.

"Thanks, Professor." Harry smiled back. "What do you think of Quidditch?"

"It's interesting." Sam smiled.

"You're pretty good at it, I hear," Dean said as Ron approached. "Good job Weasley."

"Thanks," Ron smiled.

⸸

In the changing rooms not long after, the team were filling out. Hermione entered, twisting her scarf in her hands.

"Harry, you shouldn't have done it," she said, determined.

Harry tugged on his robes with a curious look to her. "Done what?"

"You know! Felix Felicis! You spiked Ron's drink this morning."

Ron came up to them, his cheerful face falling a little. "You gave me the lucky potion? I mean it makes sense. The weather was so good and everything…"

"No, I didn't," Harry replied with a grin. He dug in his pockets. "I wanted Ron to think I'd done it. I faked it when I knew you were looking." Sure enough, the bottle was still full of the golden liquid, the cork sealed with wax.

Hermione looked at him, mouth agape.

"You did it because you felt lucky," Harry told Ron. Ron turned to look at Hermione.

"'You spiked Ron's drink this morning!'" He imitated her voice, ending it with a sneer. "See, I can save goals without your help, Hermione!"

"I never said you couldn't. Ronald, you thought that you were given the potion too!" But Ron was already gone, storming up towards the castle.

"Uh…" Harry said awkwardly, scratching his head. Well, his plan had definitely blown up in his face. "I think they're having a party in the Common Room; Shall we go?"

"You go!" Hermione snapped and stormed out.

A few minutes later, Harry entered the Gryffindor Common Room. Cheers greeted his entrance, and he was soon surrounded by people. He was pulled this way in that, congratulations coming from everyone. He just managed to get out of the way of the Creevy brothers without getting his picture taken. Eventually, he managed to reach Ginny, who was smirking. Her smirk made his insides feel like a Bludger was set loose in his stomach.
"Hey," he smiled.

"Are you looking for Ron?" She asked with a grin. "He's over there. Hypocrite."

Harry followed her gaze and saw Ron. His arms were wrapped around Lavender Brown, kissing her deeply, a crowd around them cheering. Harry's eyes widened. "Wow…. Um…. Okay."

"It looks like he's eating her face, doesn't it?" Ginny frowned, still angry about his outburst a few weeks before. "But I suppose he's got to refine his technique somehow. After all the crap he gave me about Dean," she scowled. "Anyway, good game, Harry." She patted his shoulder and walked away.

He watched her leave and out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a glimpse of bushy brown hair. Harry squeezed his way through the crowd and through the portrait hole, though it took a while to get there.

"Hermione?" Harry called, but no one answered him.

He continued to look and heard quiet crying. He pushed open the first door he tried; an empty classroom. There Hermione was, sitting on the teacher's desk. There was a small ring of chirping birds over her head, circling.

"Oh, hello, Harry," she sniffled, wiping her eyes. "I was just practising."

"Yeah… They're fantastic.…" said Harry. There was some truth. He was impressed at what she could pull off in this emotional state. He had no clue what he could say to her. That Ron was an idiot? Before he had a chance to say anything, Hermione spoke in a brittle voice.

"Ron seems to be enjoying the celebrations." She looked at him when he didn't say anything, she crossed her arms with a glare. "Don't pretend you didn't see them. He wasn't hiding it."

Suddenly the door opened. Ron stumbled inside, pulling Lavender with him. He was laughing, which suddenly cut off when he saw Ron and Hermione.

"Oops," Lavender giggled. She slipped out of the room, the door closing behind her.

Hermione was glaring at Ron, and he was refusing to do the same. Her eyes were like ice.

"Hi Harry, wonder where you got to!" Ron said, breaking the tense silence. Hermione got off the desk and approached Ron.

"Lavender is waiting for you," she said in a quiet voice. "She'll wonder where you are." Her voice trembled ever so slightly. She turned on her heel and went to leave. Ron relaxed, shoulders slumping. He was grateful she didn't yell at him.

"Oppugno!" a voice shrieked. The boys jumped and looked at Hermione, she had her wand pointed at Ron. The birds over her head suddenly flew like bullets out of a gun straight at Ron. He yelped and tried to protect his face. The birds pecked and clawed at his skin. Harry ducked out of the way. Hermione left.

"Get off me!" Ron shrieked.

Hermione slammed the door shut and broke into a hurried sprint down the hallway. Her eyes were obscured with tears. Suddenly she felt something very hard as she ran into it. She stumbled back and opened her eyes.

"Woah," Dean Winchester said. "Careful there." He saw the tears in her eyes and immediately looked concerned. "What's wrong Hermione?" He asked.

"N-Nothing," Hermione gulped, wiping her eyes hurriedly with her sleeve. "I-I'm fine."

"No, you're not," replied the Demonology Professor simply. "Was someone being a dick to you?"

"Really Professor. I'm sorry. Ron and I. We just had a row. That's all. I-I have to be getting back to the Common Room. It's almost curfew."

"Okay, if you're sure," Dean said uncertainly. He let her go. He watched as she continued down the corridor, uttered a quiet password to the Fat Lady, and disappeared out of sight.

Dean frowned with concern for the young girl, knowing she must be at a sensitive age now.

He turned and heard movement out of one of the classrooms. The door opened. Harry and Ron emerged and stopped short when they saw the hunter. "Bloody Hell…." Ron's eyes widened. Dean noticed there were tiny cuts on his face.

"Oh, hi Dean," Harry said, looking at the portrait and realizing they would have to go through Dean to get there.

"Hey," Dean replied. "I saw Hermione just a minute ago. She said there was a fight between her and you Ron?"

"Well… sort of…." Ron frowned.

"Ron just kissed another girl. Hermione didn't react well."

"No shit Sherlock," Dean muttered, and Ron and Harry looked sheepish. "I thought that was the girl you were talking about in Hogs Head. Anyone can see she likes you. I've only known her for a few months. You've known her for how long? Six years?"

"But she kissed Viktor Krum!" Ron said petulantly.

"Uh… who?"

"He's a Quidditch player. A famous one. He came over for the Triwizard Tournament two years ago."

"So, a jock?"

Ron looked at him dumbfounded. "Basically, yeah." Harry nodded.

"So, you're going to hold that over her for two years?" Dean frowned. "Come on, Ron. Look, a woman back home? Lisa, we dated years ago, but she went and had a son. I didn't hold that against her. People make mistakes, that's what makes us human," Dean explained. "Also, she's a free woman. And you're sixteen. No rush."

"What did you do when you were sixteen, sir?" Ron mumbled.

"I was kissing girls in janitor's closets," Dean matched his attitude. "But I hadn't got a mom who would kill me if she found out. Don't give your mom a heart attack, okay? She's a nice lady."

"Okay, sir…" Ron replied.