Career's Advice

The excitement from Ravenclaw's win against Slytherin was quickly extinguished by the flurry of panic coming from the fifth and seventh years, as they realised their exams were rapidly approaching, especially now that the DA couldn't meet.

Cas and Dean met in the library instead, but Dean was finding it more and more difficult now that he wasn't allowed to wear his glasses. They had to fall back on Cas's original plan, where he charmed as many of Dean's materials as he could.

It all felt futile to Dean, since he wouldn't be able to charm his exam papers, but he didn't bring it up. Helping Dean made Cas happy, and that was good enough for him.

Cas, however, wasn't fooled, and on the first day of the Easter holidays, he arrived at the library beaming at Dean.

'What?' Dean said.

'I did some digging, and I found out that Umbridge will only be allowed in the Defence Against the Dark Arts exams,' he told Dean excitedly. 'And I checked with the other teachers - you can wear your glasses for all the other exams. Don't give up yet, you're doing great.'

Dean felt lighter after that, and he worked with a renewed vigour.

Cas, too, had mastered his fear of potion making. All he had to do now was replicate it in the exam.

Their enthusiasm was halted the next morning, however, when a letter dropped in front of Cas at the breakfast table, and everyone froze to stare at it.

'Do you want me to open it for you?' Hermione said kindly, when they were certain it wouldn't explode.

Cas shook his head. All the blood had drained from his face and he stared queasily at the envelope. Eventually, he picked it up in shaking fingers, barely able to open it at all, and read the letter. When he got to the end, several goblets and plates went flying, and he stumbled away from the table, hand over his mouth.

Dean scrambled after him, catching him as he stopped for breath just outside the front doors.

'Hey, what happened? What did the letter say?'

Cas shook his head, doubled over. 'I can't,' he gasped.

'Come on, sit down and tell me,' Dean said firmly, guiding Cas to the stone steps.

He had already crushed the letter in his fist. It took him a moment to force out the words.

'It's my father,' he whispered. 'He wants to see me for Easter dinner.'

Dean inhaled sharply. 'Absolutely not,' he said immediately. 'No way.'

'Dean-'

'Don't tell me you're actually considering this? After last time?'

Cas shook his head again. 'I have to,' he said, his voice tight. 'If I don't he'll come for me…'

'No, Cas!' said Dean. 'I won't let you go.'

Cas clenched his fists. 'If he comes here, it'll be so much worse,' he said desperately, 'and Dumbledore isn't here to stop him anymore… I have to go.'

Dean thought quickly. 'So… you have to go?'

'Yes,' Cas sighed.

'And I can't talk you out of it?'

'No.'

'Fine. Then I'm coming too.'

Cas's head snapped up. 'What?'

'If you think I'm letting you go anywhere near him alone ever again, you've got another thing coming,' Dean said. 'You're either not going, or you're taking me with you. Those are your only options.'

Cas gaped at him. 'N-no,' he said. 'You can't - he'll hurt you - please, Dean-'

'I've fought a Demon with my bare hands, Cas, I'm pretty sure I can take your dad. I'll have a wand this time at least… besides, I think I have a plan.'

'W-what?' Cas stammered. 'What do you mean a plan?'

'Look, it's just an idea, so you're gonna have to trust me on this. Can you do that?'

Cas bit his lip, but eventually nodded.

Dean pulled him into a hug just as he started crying. 'It's gonna be all right, Cas, I promise,' he murmured, holding him tightly. 'I won't let anybody hurt you anymore.'

'It's not me I'm worried about,' Cas choked.

'Let me just send a couple owls, we'll be fine. Can I borrow Grace?'

Cas nodded, confused, but Dean just stroked his cheek.

There was no studying for either of them that week, and it was all Dean could do to keep Cas from bolting while he sent messages back and forth with Bobby. He worried at first about their letters being monitored, but he decided that the more people knew what was going on the better. He didn't tell Cas what the plan was, not wanting to make him more nervous than he already was.

They left the castle early Sunday morning. Cas walked outside, his mouth firmly clamped shut and his fists clenched. Dean walked beside him in silence. They left the grounds and walked to Hogsmeade, where Cas flagged down the Knight Bus.

'Ah, it's Cas!' Stan Shunpike, the conductor said. 'Off home for Easter, is it?'

Cas nodded stiffly.

'And we're bringing a friend, good for you. Come on, then, in you come.'

Cas dropped a few silver Sickles into his palm and took a seat next to a window, and Dean sat next to him. He stared out of the window, watching the countryside jump past as the Knight Bus weaved in and out of roads, fields, buildings - anything it came across that happened to be in its way.

Dean sat quietly, feeling Cas's shaking through the seats. Dean watched him pick at his lips, eyes fixed outside, but not looking at anything.

'It'll be okay,' Dean whispered.

Cas didn't say anything, but he slipped a trembling hand into Dean's.

A couple of hours later, the Knight Bus burst into a sleepy village, a low stone wall leaping out of its way as it skidded to a stop.

'Here we are, then,' said Stan, 'watch your step. See you next time.'

Cas waved weakly, and the Knight Bus disappeared with a bang.

Dean looked around at the village they'd been dropped off in. It was comprised of only a few sturdy cottages made of thick stone, and a single road running through it.

'Where are we?' Dean asked.

'Rhyd-Ddu.'

'Bless you,' said Dean, and Cas rolled his eyes. 'You live here?'

Cas shook his head and pointed to a trail that wound up towards the peak of Mount Snowdon.

'You're kidding, right?' Dean said.

Cas shrugged. 'It's not that far,' he mumbled. 'We don't live on the peak and the path isn't steep.' He set off up the path, Dean close behind.

'You have to drag your trunk up and down this path every year?' Dean said in disbelief, looking around at the ferns lining the edges of the path, and the short, coarse grass beyond it.

'It's not so bad,' Cas mumbled. 'Not with Gabriel…'

He wandered further ahead, and Dean glanced over his shoulder. He was relieved to see that Bobby had been able to hop off the Knight Bus behind them, and there was enough foot traffic that another person on the trail wouldn't be suspicious. He gave a surreptitious thumbs up and got a quick one in return.

Eventually, Cas stopped beside a large outcropping of rock, then so did Dean, and their tail. Cas looked around, checking for Muggles, then passed through the rock, pulling Dean with him.

They came to another, less well-travelled path, but Cas was sure footed amongst the gravel.

Dean glanced back again, making sure that Bobby had made it through the concealed entrance, and followed Cas as closely as he could.

A few minutes of walking later, they finally came to Cas's house, perched on slopes of the mountain. Cas froze, staring at the front door.

Dean looked at it too. It was a normal house, as far as Dean could tell, but something was off about it. Whether it was the placement of a perfectly ordinary house on the side of a mountain, or the way the white outside walls were slightly too bright, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He reached out for Cas's hand, but Cas snatched it away. He said nothing, rubbed his arm and gulped before approaching the front door.

'It's gonna be fine,' Dean whispered, only getting a tiny squeak in response.

Cas bit his lip and pushed open the front door, leading Dean into a hallway with doors to the left and right of them, a staircase in front of them with a door set into it, leading to what Dean assumed was storage, and a large painting of the Welsh countryside hanging on the wall at the other end of the hall.

'You're back.'

Cas jumped at the voice coming from the room to the left, and the door opened.

A man much shorter than either of them with a crop of thick hair and messy beard appeared in the doorway of the living room. He looked remarkably like Gabriel. Cas shrunk, looking down at the floor, picking at his fingernails. The man, who Dean assumed was Cas's father, narrowed his eyes at Dean. 'Who are you?'

Cas winced.

'Oh, I'm Dean, I'm a friend of Cas's from school,' Dean said pleasantly, reaching out to shake his hand. 'Nice to meet you, Mr Edlund.'

He ignored Dean's hand, instead turning his glare on Cas. 'I don't recall giving you permission to bring people home. There's a reason we're concealed up here, or had you forgotten?'

Cas stared resolutely at the floor.

'Sorry, sir, I insisted. I just really wanted to meet you, and then I heard there was food involved - well, I couldn't resist,' Dean said, as casually as he could manage. 'Speaking of which, point me to the kitchen. I'm a great cook, I'd love to help.'

Mr Edlund looked suspicious. 'Well, Castiel?' he snapped, causing Cas to jump again. 'Don't keep your guest waiting.'

Cas turned stiffly to the door on the right, leading Dean through a dining room, to a kitchen at the back of the house. Cas slumped over the kitchen counter, holding his head in his hands.

Dean rubbed his back gently. 'It's okay,' he whispered again. 'I'm right here, you'll be fine.'

Cas nodded and took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair before grabbing a chopping board and all the vegetables they'd need for dinner.

Dean wandered around the kitchen, eyes flickering around. On the far side of the room was a cabinet and shelves full of dusty potion ingredients. The cauldron stand was empty, and though it looked normal, when Dean looked up, he saw the scorch marks still on the ceiling and shuddered.

There was a window over the kitchen sink, looking out over the windswept mountainside. It looked empty outside, but whenever Dean moved his eyes, something would flash just on the edge of his vision. He thought there must be something concealed by spells, so he went to open the back door to see what it was. He reached out for the door handle, but his hand was suddenly caught in the air. When he looked up, he saw that Cas was the one holding Dean back, staring at Dean with wide, glowing eyes, and he shook his head. 'Don't,' he whispered.

'I thought I told you never to use your devil magic in my house.' Mr Edlund had appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, looking thunderous.

Cas dropped Dean's arm and cowered in the corner of the kitchen. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I was just stopping him from going outside. We're not allowed outside.'

He glared at Cas, then went over to the back door, standing between it and Dean. 'My wife is out there,' he saw through gritted teeth. 'No one is allowed near her. Understand?'

'Yes, sir,' said Dean.

Mr Edlund left the room again and Cas let out a quiet, shuddering gasp, then turned back to the vegetables.

'W-would you h-h-help me with the chicken, Dean?'

'Sure,' Dean said quietly. 'I got it.' He set about preparing the bird on another countertop. 'So, she's buried out there, huh?'

Cas froze again. 'Please, Dean, I - I'm not allowed to talk about her.'

Dean nodded. 'Okay. Here, let me look at this chicken. Where are your spices?'

Cas pointed at the rack on the wall and Dean got to work, though he was soon distracted by Cas struggling to peel the potatoes with his violently shaking hands. Dean glanced at the door, then pointed his wand at the potatoes and made them peel themselves, along with the rest of the vegetables. Cas gave him a grateful look and started chopping them up.

Soon enough, the chicken and all the vegetables were roasting nicely in the oven.

'Why don't you give me the tour?' Dean suggested, watching Mr Edlund wander in and out of the dining room over the top of Cas's head.

Cas nodded and led Dean back through the dining room, and Dean made a mental note of the position of all the windows. He showed Dean the living room. It was large, with comfortable brown leather furniture near the door, and a cosy study built into the other end of the room. Dean was relieved to see the ornate fireplace. His plan hinged on it, and he was worried it would be blocked up.

Then Cas took him upstairs.

'This is mine and Gabriel's room here,' Cas said, as they reached the first door on the landing. 'That's father's room over there.' He then pointed up another staircase. 'Michael and Lucy's rooms are up there.' He opened the door to his room and pulled Dean inside, careful to leave the door ajar.

There were two beds, and it was obvious whose was whose.

Cas's side of the room was bare, his bed neatly made, with a wooden bedside table sitting next to it. Gabriel's side of the room was still exactly as Gabriel had left it. The blankets and pillows were haphazardly thrown around, the wall was plastered in photographs and random scraps of paper, and there were some lost socks peeking out from under the bed.

Cas sat heavily onto his own bed, shivering. Dean sat next to him, checking they were alone before whispering, 'You're doing so great, you can do this. Just breathe.'

Cas nodded. 'We should check on the food.' His eyes swept over Gabriel's bed before he left the room again.

Dean helped Cas finish off the dinner and carry it all to the dinner table. Mr Edlund sat at the head of the table, with Cas on his right, and Dean on Cas's other side.

'Your folks Christian?' Mr Edlund asked Dean.

'Oh, not especially, sir,' Dean said.

Mr Edlund narrowed his eyes. 'We say grace before we eat in this house, especially on this holy day.'

'Of course,' Dean said brightly.

Mr Edlund held out his hand. Cas took it, then grabbed Dean's hand too, before bowing his head. Dean did the same, but kept one eye cracked to watch Mr Edlund. Dean could see how tightly he was gripping Cas's hand.

'May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with us this day. May this meal be blessed as we gather to celebrate your love be shared amongst us as we enjoy the gift of fellowship. May we remember to give out the grace and forgiveness that you have freely given us, and may we always give thanks for your sacrificial love. Amen.'

Dean's mouth tightened at the irony of his prayer, but he muttered 'amen' just as Cas did.

Mr Edlund began eating first, then Dean followed suit.

'Tastes great, if I do say so myself,' Dean said.

'Castiel, eat,' Mr Edlund said harshly.

Cas, who had been staring straight ahead, flinched and picked up his fork, shoving some chicken into his mouth, still staring straight ahead.

'Say thank you to your friend,' said Mr Edlund.

Cas swallowed and croaked, 'Thank you, Dean. It's nice.'

'No problem,' Dean said. The tension in the room was making even him feel a little queasy.

For the first time since Dean had known him, he saw Cas finish an entire plate of food, though the green tinge to his face showed exactly how much he struggled with it.

They waited in silence for Mr Edlund to finish, Cas gripping the edge of the table, sweating and fighting back the urge to throw up.

'The dishes, Castiel,' Mr Edlund snapped the moment he was finished, and Cas leapt to his feet, gathering the plates up in his arms.

'Let me help,' said Dean, getting to his feet.

'Sit,' said Mr Edlund, glaring at Dean. 'You're our guest.'

Dean lowered himself back into his chair, holding his breath when Mr Edlund got up and followed Cas into the kitchen. The door closed and Dean leapt out of his seat again, running over to the door as quietly as he could. He couldn't make out what was being said, but the low, threatening tone of Mr Edlund's voice made his blood run cold. Then there was a thumping sound, followed by something falling to the floor, and that was all Dean needed. He sprinted back across the room, threw the window open and shot red sparks into the air. He then kicked the kitchen door open, and found Cas on the floor with blood all over his face.

'Don't touch him!' Dean growled, lifting Cas up with one arm and pointing his wand at Mr Edlund with the other.

Cas swayed and spat out a couple of teeth.

'How dare you!'

Dean backed out of the room, wand still raised, dragging Cas with him.

'You don't know what he is,' Mr Edlund said, following them, hands twitching.

'I know exactly who he is.'

'Really? Did he tell you what he did to his own mother? He's a monster, he doesn't deserve your sympathy.'

'You're wrong.' Dean glanced around. They had reached the dining room table, but he could see Mr Edlund's hand inching towards his own wand. Cas was still dazed, and spat out more blood. He backed up even further, praying they would reach the doorway before curses came flying at him.

'His evil has to be kept in check. I'm the only one that knows how.'

'I'm sure that's what you think,' Dean said, buying himself some time, 'but if you can't see that you're the monster here, then I can't help you.'

'Help me? I don't need help.' He whipped out his wand, just as Dean reached the doorway.

Dean pushed Cas through the door and shouted, 'Protego!' just in time for Mr Edlund's Stunner to bounce off his Shield, then jumped through the doorway himself.

He scrambled back into the living room, pushing Cas down behind the furniture, just as more spells flew over their heads. The front door crashed open, giving Dean the opportunity he needed to push Cas over to the fireplace.

'Get back to school!' he yelled, pushing a packet of Floo powder at Cas. There were more spells shooting around now, and chunks of the fireplace exploded over them.

'It's not connected!' Cas shouted.

'Yes it is, go!'

Cas refused the packet. 'Not without you!'

Dean ducked again and pushed Cas further. 'Just go, I'm right behind you, I promise!' He shoved Cas into the fireplace, tipped out the packet of Floo powder and threw it into the fire, yelling 'Hogwarts!'.

'No-!' Cas disappeared in a swirl of green flame, and Dean rolled behind one of the leather chairs. He poked his head up and saw a scuffle in the hallway, and vaulted over the chair.

Mr Edlund was on the floor, but he'd hit Bobby with an Impediment Jinx, so before he could get the upper hand, Dean ran over and kicked him in the face. Dean then yelled, 'Incarcerous!', binding Mr Edlund as tightly as he could.

'I got him,' Dean said, releasing Bobby from his Impediment Jinx, doubling over to catch his breath.

'You all right?' Bobby asked, looking down at Mr Edlund in disgust.

Dean nodded. 'Yeah, I'm good - here.' He put the tip of his wand to his own temple and drew out his memories of the day, pushing them into a small phial. 'That should be good enough for court.' He pressed it into Bobby's hand. 'Shouldn't need Cas to testify with that.'

Bobby nodded and tucked it safely in his pocket.

'I gotta go, you got him from here?' Dean asked.

'Sure,' said Bobby. 'This filth don't look like he'll be much trouble now. Good job, kid.'

'Thanks for your help, Bobby. See ya later.' Dean clapped Bobby on the shoulder, then jumped into the fireplace himself, just as the Magical Law Enforcement squad came in through the front door.

The Floo network was hardly his favourite way to travel, but it got the job done. He rolled out of the fireplace into Professor McGonagall's office - or that's where he thought he was. He couldn't see anything past the blinding white light filling his vision.

'Cas!' he called, squeezing his watering eyes shut. 'Cas, I'm here, where are you?'

The light faded and Dean found Cas crumpled in a ball on the floor, his knuckles bleeding and raw from where he'd pounded at the fireplace. His face was wet, and the walls to the office and even beyond had crumbled to pieces under Cas's power.

'Hey, hey!' Dean said, scrambling over to him and lifting him up. 'I'm right here, look at me. I'm not hurt, see? He didn't touch me, I'm okay.'

Cas dissolved into tears, threw up, then collapsed into Dean.

'We're okay,' Dean said, shushing him. 'You did so well, it's over now.' Dean looked up and saw people gathering in the hallway outside, looking around trying to work out what could possibly have destroyed so much of the walls.

Professor McGonagall appeared, gingerly stepping over bits of stone, approaching them warily. 'I hope you have an explanation for this,' she frowned.

'We do have a perfectly good reason for what happened,' Dean said slowly and calmly, 'and we'll be more than happy to tell you all about it, but right now, Cas needs to get up to the hospital wing.'

Professor McGonagall looked them over and nodded.

'You'd be really doing me a favour if you could get these people out of the way,' Dean added, nodding at the rapidly growing crowd.

Professor McGonagall swept out of the room, shooing the students away.

'Okay, Cas, let's get you upstairs. We'll get you some peace and quiet, how's that sound?'

Cas nodded. 'All right,' he croaked. 'Don't let go.'

'Never. I've got you.'

Dean kept his arm around Cas's shoulders as he shakily picked his way out of McGonagall's office. Cas kept his gaze resolutely ahead of him, but Dean looked around and saw the damage had gone much further than just McGonagall's office, and rubble littered the entire corridor outside, having fallen from the ceiling above, leaving gaping holes that more students were gaping down at them through.

Dean just guided Cas all the way up to the hospital wing, and drew the screens around the bed furthest from the door for him.

Madam Pomfrey swiftly healed his face and gave him some potion to regrow his teeth. 'What happened?' Madam Pomfrey asked quietly, as Cas curled up under the covers. 'Did you get him?'

Dean allowed himself a smile. 'Yeah, we got him,' he whispered.

Madam Pomfrey smiled widely.

'Everything's gonna be all right now,' Dean told her, before settling down next to Cas's bed. He was nodding off when he felt Cas's hand in his. 'Hey,' he murmured, squeezing Cas's hand gently.

'Dean…'

'Yeah?'

'I made a mess,' Cas mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

'It's okay, it's easily fixed,' Dean said gently. 'In fact, they've probably already cleared it right up.'

Cas pushed himself up so he was sitting closer to Dean. 'Everyone's going to know what I am now.'

Dean grimaced. 'It's not as bad as all that,' Dean reasoned. 'Besides, doesn't Dumbledore have all the books about it in his office?'

Cas nodded.

'You're okay then, no one will know unless you tell them.'

'What about Umbridge?'

Dean sniggered. 'The gargoyle won't let her in. Don't worry, you're safe.'

Cas shuffled further over so he could hug Dean's arm. 'I think I'm going to stay here for a while.'

Dean kissed the top of his head. 'You got it.' He was dozing off again, when he was once more woken, this time by the hospital wing door crashing open.

'Where is he?'

Dean's blood boiled as he heard Umbridge's voice, and Cas turned pale.

'Headmistress, he's very unwell-'

But Umbridge just shoved the screens aside. 'Do you two care to explain yourselves?' she shouted. 'First of all, for using the Floo network unauthorised-'

'It was an emergency,' Dean said calmly. 'You know, since he's so sick.'

'-and the damage caused to Professor McGonagall's office-'

'It was an accident. I'm sure you're aware that accidents happen in a school. A group of first-years caused more damage in the dungeons the other day than we did.'

Umbridge raised her eyebrows. 'And what kind of accident was this?'

'It doesn't matter-'

'Dean,' Cas said softly, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'It's all right…' He looked up at Umbridge. 'I have an illness,' Cas said, not totally lying.

'Cas, you don't have to-'

'It's fine… I have an illness that makes my magic unstable sometimes… We've almost worked out a cure though, it shouldn't happen again.'

'It's not contagious,' Madam Pomfrey jumped in. 'But it is genetic, which makes it more difficult to cure.'

'You wouldn't punish someone for being sick, would you?' Dean said innocently. 'Madam Pomfrey can vouch for him, right?'

'Of course,' said Madam Pomfrey. 'I've been treating him for years.'

Unable to find a reason to punish them, Umbridge stormed out without another word, and Cas let out the breath he had been holding.

'That was so brave,' Dean said, holding his hand.

Cas shrugged. 'It was the only way to make her stop… I just want to sleep.'

'Okay, you get some rest,' said Dean, kissing Cas's head again, then getting up and making a bed for himself next to Cas's. It was still early, but it had been a long day.

'Dean?' Cas asked just as Dean was climbing under the covers.

'Yeah?'

'What will happen to my father?'

Dean sighed and turned to face him. 'He's probably gonna go to jail. The Ministry have him now.'

'Azkaban?'

'Most likely.'

Cas nodded and turned away.

'Just get some rest,' Dean whispered, waving his wand to snuff out the candles, creating a comfortable darkness for them to both finally fall asleep in.

Their friends all came to see them the next day, and Cas finally opened up, explaining to them all what was going on. Sherlock, who already knew, pulled Dean aside.

'How did you get his fireplace connected to the Floo network?' Sherlock asked. 'The homeowner needs to give authorisation in a wizarding household.'

Dean grinned sheepishly. 'Me and Bobby did some digging and found some really interesting paperwork. And by digging, I mean Bobby snuck into Michael's office at MACUSA and stole it. Anyway, turns out that our good friend Mr Edlund is not, in fact, the homeowner.'

'You mean-?'

'Yep. It was Cas's mom's, and she left it to him. I can see why they'd wanna keep that to themselves.'

Sherlock smirked. 'And you got Cas's permission to connect it? Somehow, I don't think he'd be too happy about that.'

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. 'Technically, I got his permission.'

'Ah. My favourite kind of permission. Are you going to tell him?'

Dean looked over at Cas, who was still nervously talking to Hermione. 'I've arranged for the paperwork to be sent to him in a week or so. "Dear Mr Edlund, it has come to our attention that there was a minor clerical error in the filing of your documents. Please accept our apologies and the return of your documents, Regards, Christopher Abbott, Court Scribe". What do you think?'

'Not bad,' Sherlock smiled. 'What doesn't make sense, though, is why would she leave the house to him when she was married and had three older children?'

Dean frowned. 'Good question. Looks like we got a mystery to solve, Scoob.'

'Excuse me?'

'Nevermind,' Dean laughed, then noticed John stifling his own laughter across the room. 'See, he gets it.' He laughed again and returned to Cas's bedside, leaving Sherlock with a bewildered look on his face.

'Will you - will you help me figure out how to control it better?' Cas was saying when Dean sat back down.

'Of course we will!' Hermione said, reaching over to pat his leg. 'It'll be a little more difficult if all the books are in Dumbledore's office, but we can do it.'

'Thank you, Hermione.'

Though he was still shaken up, Cas tried to ease back into their studies later that day. Dean tried to make him slow down, but it was nearly time for their exams after all, so Cas only stopped when Hermione had scheduled in some time to help him with his power.

A couple of days before the end of the Easter holiday, Dean received an owl from Bobby, but waited until he and Cas were alone in the library before reading it. He squinted at it, holding it close to his face so he could read it without his glasses.

'It says… they found your dad guilty of… assault… child en- endanger-rement? Improper use of magic and… curse misuse against a minor.'

Cas stared at him.

'Sentenced to… five years in Azkaban - is that it?' Dean squinted at the parchment some more. 'Should have got more if you ask me… Hey, they couldn't get into that closet under your stairs. If there was evidence in there, it probably would have helped the case-' All the books on the stacks around them threw themselves off the shelves. Dean ducked, then looked up at Cas once the books had all fallen to the floor. 'Oh, jeez, Cas, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. Are you okay?'

Cas balled his fists against the table. 'I don't know,' he forced out, before bursting into tears.

Dean moved around to Cas's side of the table.

Cas rubbed his face impatiently, struggling to stop crying.

'It's probably going to feel weird for a while,' Dean said, rubbing Cas's back. 'Whenever it gets too much, just remember that you're safe now. He can't get you, no one escapes Azkaban.'

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. 'Except Sirius, and all those Death Eaters,' he said, sniffing and wiping his cheeks.

Dean snorted. 'Unless your dad happens to be a secret unregistered Animagus or one of Voldemort's besties, you're totally safe, I promise.'

Cas nodded, then sighed at the mess he'd made. He raised his arms, eyes glowing slightly, and lifted all the books back into place.

'You're getting good at that,' Dean smiled.

Cas rested his chin on his hand. 'I don't like it.'

'You've just gotta start finding good things about it. See how you put all those books back?'

'I wouldn't have had to if my power hadn't knocked them all off in the first place.'

'We'll work on it.'

Eventually, Dean convinced Cas to take a break in the common room, but his hopes for a relaxing evening were dashed when they found all the tables covered in leaflets.

'What's all this?' Dean asked, picking up a bright pink and orange leaflet that read 'SO YOU THINK YOU'D LIKE TO WORK IN MUGGLE RELATIONS?'

'Careers,' Sherlock said shortly, lying upside down on one of the armchairs.

'And you're annoyed about this… why?'

Sherlock pointed at John, who was sitting surrounded by leaflets.

'John, you okay there, buddy?' Dean called.

John just groaned and fell back on the floor.

'He doesn't know what he wants to do,' said Sherlock.

'Ah, the old existential crisis. Been there.' Dean picked up a few more leaflets and frowned, feeling the uncertainty himself.

Cas reached out and picked up the one that had the crossed wand and bone emblem of St Mungo's on the front.

'Don't want much, do they?' said Ron, also looking at a St Mungo's leaflet.

Dean grabbed one and held it close to his face.

'An "E" at NEWT level in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts… Piece of cake, huh, Cas?' he grinned, elbowing Cas.

Cas made a noncommittal noise and went to sit down next to John on the floor.

'We've all got appointments with our Heads of House as well,' said Hermione, pointing at the new sign on the noticeboard.

'Oh, what does it say?'

'It says "All fifth-years are required to attend a short meeting with their Heads of House during the first week of the summer term to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below".' Hermione ran her finger down the list. 'Yours is at ten o'clock on Tuesday.'

'Cool, thanks. This oughta be good, McGonagall was not impressed with me last time.'

Dean noticed John, Harry and Ron staring at him and shrugged. 'I'm Dyslexic. I can't read,' he told them, then looked at Cas. 'I'm owning it now.'

Cas gave him a small smile.

'Well that explains the glasses,' said Ron.

Sherlock righted himself, staring flabbergasted at Ron. 'It only just now explains the glasses?'

Ron shrugged. 'I just thought he liked them.'

Sherlock slapped a hand to his forehead.

'He's not wrong, I do like them,' Dean sniggered. 'But Cas can do the charms on them that help me read.'

'But Umbridge has been confiscating them!' Hermione said, horrified.

'Yeah, I know. It's fine, we work around it, right, Cas?'

Cas's smile widened and he nodded.

'See? We got it.' Dean scooped up an armful of the leaflets and wandered over to Cas and John.

'Hey, welcome to the crisis corner,' John said, still lying on his back. 'It's all a bit overwhelming, isn't it?'

Dean shrugged. 'I guess.' He examined the qualifications he would need to be an Auror, but the realisation that there was a lot more choice out there than he'd ever considered made his stomach twist. 'You can totally be a Healer though,' he said to Cas.

Cas just nodded uneasily, fiddling with the edges of the paper.

'Why don't you do that too, John?' Dean suggested.

'What, try Healing?' John said, sitting up. 'I dunno, you have to be really smart.'

'You are really smart,' Cas said kindly.

John snorted. 'That's nice of you, Cas, but I'm really not. Even if I was, I'd have to get past Snape to take Potions at NEWT, and he wants an Outstanding - not that you can't do it,' John added hastily at Cas's expression. 'You're a lot better at it than I am.'

Just then, Fred and George entered the room and went up to Harry.

'So, Ginny says you need to talk to Sirius?' said Fred.

'What?' Hermione said sharply.

'Yeah…' said Harry, 'I just thought I'd like-'

'Don't be so ridiculous,' said Hermione, straightening. 'With Umbridge groping around in fires and frisking all the owls?'

'Well, we think we can find a way around that,' said George, stretching and smiling. 'It's simply a matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?'

'What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?' continued Fred. 'No point at all, we answered ourselves. And, of course, we'd have messed up people's revision too, which is the last thing we'd want to do. But it's business as usual from tomorrow, and if we're going to be causing a bit of an uproar, why not do it so Harry can have his chat with Sirius?'

'Yes, but still,' said Hermione, 'even if you do cause a diversion, how is Harry supposed to talk to him?'

'Umbridge's office,' said Sherlock. 'They aren't monitoring her fireplace.'

'Are - you - insane?' said Hermione in a hushed voice.

'Maybe.'

'And how exactly will he get into the office in the first place?'

'Sirius's knife,' said Harry.

'Excuse me?'

'Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock,' said Harry, 'so even if she's bewitched the door-'

'What do you think about this?' Hermione demanded, rounding on Ron.

'I dunno,' said Ron, looking alarmed at being asked to give his opinion. 'If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?'

'Spoken like a true friend and Weasley,' Fred grinned.

'What about you, Cas?' Hermione said desperately.

Cas considered it carefully. 'I think… Between us, we could probably cause several diversions. Sherlock, are you in?'

Sherlock grinned widely. 'Absolutely.'

Hermione's jaw dropped, and Fred and George laughed gleefully.

'Right then,' said Fred. 'We're thinking of doing it tomorrow after lessons; it should cause maximum impact if everyone's out in the corridors. We'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office.'

Cas nodded. 'I'll go down to the greenhouses, there will be something there I can do. What about you, Sherlock?'

Sherlock rubbed his hands together. 'I think there's a lot I could accomplish in the dungeons,' he said, thinking fast.

'You and Cas working together to cause trouble?' said John. 'I don't know if I like this.'

'Of course you do,' Sherlock said, leaning over to kiss John, making him blush.

'Let's face it, John, the only reason the school hasn't already burned to the ground is 'cause Cas is too nice,' Dean laughed.

'I think Gabriel would approve,' Cas smiled. 'It's his birthday soon, what better way to celebrate?'

'Are you sure about this?' Dean asked quietly, when everyone had turned their attention back to their leaflets.

'Seems like a good enough excuse to break something to me,' Cas shrugged.

'Now that I can get behind.'

Cas had his careers meeting with Professor Flitwick early the next morning, and Dean found him leaning against the wall outside Flitwick's office with his head in his hands.

'Hey, what's up?' Dean asked. 'I thought this would be an easy decision for you.'

'It's not that,' Cas said, deliberately breathing slowly. 'It's just - I - I never thought I'd live long enough to get there. It was only ever a dream… Now I have to actually do it.' He reached out and grabbed Dean, hugging him tightly.

'Yeah, I know what you mean,' Dean said gently. 'I just take it a day at a time and keep going. I always land on my feet eventually, and you're way smarter than me. You'll be totally fine.'

'If you say so.' Cas pulled away and rubbed his face. 'Meet me outside Greenhouse Five after class.'

Before Dean could respond, Cas was already walking away, so Dean was left to struggle through lessons for the day, ending with Defence Against the Dark Arts and pretending to read again. The moment the bell rang, Dean was on his feet and running through the castle. He heard whatever it was that Fred and George had planned go off in the distance, accompanied by screams, then raced past huge billowing clouds of black smoke pouring out of the dungeons. He found Cas waiting for him outside the greenhouse, and doubled over to catch his breath.

'All right, what are we doing?' he said, dropping his bag on the ground.

'I'm going to break it,' Cas said simply.

'Break what?'

'That.' He pointed at the greenhouse itself.

'That?'

Cas nodded.

'Listen, Cas, not that I'm not fully supportive of you breaking stuff, but are you sure you want to break the whole greenhouse?'

Cas nodded again. 'It's perfect. This greenhouse is currently empty, so I won't disturb any of the plants, and the glass is magically reinforced. I couldn't do it before, but I want to see if I'm stronger now. And if anyone asks, I'll say that some of the Giant Himalayan Balsams exploded too early.'

'Well… I guess you've thought of everything. All right, go for it.'

Cas took a long, deep breath and raised his hands. His eyes began to glow, and the glass panes of the greenhouses began to rattle. He gritted his teeth, beads of sweat forming on his face. A white light shimmered around him, and still the glass only rattled.

'Cas, you can stop,' Dean said.

'I can do it!' he gasped. He took another deep breath, raising his hands even higher, then, with a snarl, swiped his arms through the air.

The panes all shattered at once, throwing millions of shards of glass into the air. Cas stumbled backwards from the force of his own power, but Dean caught him by the shoulders. Shards of glass flew towards them, but Cas threw them aside with a flick of his wrist.

'Better?' Dean asked, once the glass had all settled on the ground.

Cas nodded, staring open-mouthed at the greenhouse, or what was left of it.

Just then, Professor Sprout came running out of one of the other greenhouses.

'What in Merlin's name happened?' she cried.

'I'm not sure, Professor,' Cas said innocently. 'I think it was the Balsam seeds, but perhaps we ought to find Professor Umbridge so she can really check it for us.'

Professor Sprout stared at him for a moment, then a smile spread across her face and a twinkle appeared in her eye. 'Right you are, Mr Edlund, let's go and fetch the Headmistress, come on.'

Dean grinned at Cas, and they followed Professor Sprout inside.

They found her almost immediately, pushing through the crowd that had gathered in the Entrance Hall. Some of the students were covered in a substance that looked suspiciously like Stinksap, and the ghosts and the rest of the teachers were also among the crowd. Prominent among the onlookers were members of the Inquisitorial Squad, who were all looking exceptionally pleased with themselves, and Peeves, who was bobbing overhead.

Fred and George stood in the middle of the room wearing the unmistakable look of two people who had just been cornered.

'So!' said Umbridge triumphantly from her position at the top of the steps. 'So, you think it amusing to turn the school into a swamp, do you?'

'Pretty amusing, yeah,' said Fred, looking up at her without the slightest sign of fear.

Filch then elbowed his way closer to Umbridge, almost crying with happiness. 'I've got the form, Headmistress,' he said hoarsely, waving a piece of parchment around. 'I've got the form and I've got the whips waiting… oh, let me do it now…'

Cas grabbed Dean's hand, clutching it tightly.

'Very good, Argus,' said Umbridge. 'You two are about to find out what happens to wrongdoers in my school.'

'You know what?' said Fred. 'I don't think we are.' He turned to his twin. 'George, I think we've outgrown full-time education.'

'Yeah, I've been feeling that way myself,' said George lightly.

'Time to test our talents in the real world, d'you reckon?' said Fred.

'Definitely,' said George.

And before Umbridge could say anything, they raised their wands and said together:

'Accio brooms!'

There was a loud crash in the distance, then Fred and George's broomsticks, one still trailing the heavy chain and iron peg with which Umbridge had fastened them to the wall, came hurtling along the corridor towards their owners. They stopped sharply in front of the twins, the chain clattering loudly on the stone floor.

'We won't be seeing you,' Fred told Umbridge, swinging his leg over his broomstick.

'Yeah, don't bother to keep in touch,' said George, mounting his own.

Fred looked around at the assembled students. 'If anyone fancies buying a Portable Swamp, as demonstrated upstairs, come to number ninety-three Diagon Alley - Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes,' he said in a loud voice. 'Our new premises!'

'Special discounts to Hogwarts students who swear they'll use our products to get rid of this old bat!' added George, pointing at Umbridge.

'STOP THEM!' shrieked Umbridge, but it was too late.

As the Inquisitorial Squad closed in, Fred and George kicked off from the floor, shooting fifteen feet into the air, the iron peg swinging dangerously below. Fred looked across the hall at the poltergeist bobbing on his level above the crowd.

'Give her hell from us, Peeves.'

Peeves, who had never taken an order from a student before, swept his belled hat from his head and sprang to a salute, as Fred and George wheeled about to tumultuous applause from the students below, and sped out of the open front doors into the glorious sunset.

Dean was among those that cheered for Fred and George, but as the crowd began to disperse, he felt static in his hand and noticed that Cas was staring straight ahead, his eyes wide.

'Hey,' he said quietly, nudging Cas gently. 'Cas?' No response. 'Cas,' he said again, more firmly this time. 'Cas, come back.'

Cas inhaled sharply, blinking rapidly.

'You okay?'

'Fine,' Cas said, his voice slightly higher than usual.

'Come on, you can tell me.'

Cas glanced around and sighed. 'Filch has whips,' he muttered, his free hand self-consciously tugging down the hem of his junper. 'Let's just go.'

'Whoa, whoa, hold on a sec,' Dean said. 'You don't have to keep this stuff to yourself any more.'

Cas closed. 'I don't want to talk about it,' he said, then rested his head on Dean's shoulder. 'I'm tired. I've never used that much of my power on purpose before.'

'I guess it's like a muscle. You can't expect it to work well if you haven't been strengthening it.'

Cas tutted. 'I'm going to lie down, I'll see you after dinner.'

Dean caught his hand and kissed it. 'Take it easy, okay?'

Cas rolled his eyes, but smiled. 'I will.'

That night, Dean lay awake, staring up at the canopy. The thought of his meeting with Professor McGonagall made his stomach tie itself in knots. He tossed and turned, knowing he was being ridiculous, but he couldn't help but feel nervous. Eventually, he pulled the mirror out from under his pillow and woke up Sam.

'What?' he said irritably, his hair sticking up on one side.

'Nothing. Just checking in.'

Sam sighed. 'This anything to do with your meeting with McGonagall tomorrow?'

'What? No.'

'Sure,' Sam said, rolling his eyes.

Dean sighed. 'What if - what if she tells me I'm not good enough for anything?' he said in a small voice.

'Dean, that's ridiculous. You're good at a bunch of stuff. You gotta stop thinking your Dyslexia makes you stupid, it doesn't. What does Cas have to say about this?'

'Well…'

'You haven't talked to him, have you?'

Dean didn't respond.

'God, maybe you are dumb,' Sam grumbled.

'Hey! He's just got a lot going on, don't you think?'

'You're his boyfriend, Dean, he'd want you to talk to him about it. Don't you worry about him when he doesn't tell you stuff?'

'I guess…'

'Just go to sleep, Dean. Talk to Cas tomorrow. You'll be fine.'

'All right. 'Night, Sam.'

'Whatever.'

Dean tucked the mirror back under his pillow and managed a few hours of restless sleep. He intended on talking to Cas at breakfast, but Cas was nowhere to be found, so he trudged off to Herbology, feeling more and more anxious as the lesson went on, until John made him put down his shears after he nearly cut off the budding head of a Fanged Geranium seedling. His meeting with Professor McGonagall would be after Herbology, so when the lesson was over, he returned to the castle feeling sick and sweaty.

'Hello, Dean.'

Dean jumped out of his skin as Cas appeared next to him when he walked into the Entrance Hall. 'Jeez, Cas, you scared me.'

'Sorry.'

'What are you doing? Don't you have Ancient Runes now?'

'I'm skipping it.'

'You're skipping it?' Dean repeated. 'We're really into breaking the rules now, I see.'

Cas looped his arm through Dean's, and walked slowly towards Professor McGonagall's office. 'I heard you were having a bad night,' he said quietly.

Dean groaned. 'You talked to Sam.'

'I would rather have talked to you,' Cas chastised. 'It's okay to be nervous about your meeting.'

'I know, I just didn't want to bother you.'

'It's not a bother. I want to hear about how you feel.'

Dean blushed, warmth spreading through his chest, and he suddenly felt calmer, though the slightly more luminous look to Castiel's eyes told him why. 'I guess I just always thought I'd be an Auror. I don't know if there's anything else I want to do.'

'That's the point of this meeting,' Cas told him. 'It's not to tell you how bad you are or pick apart your grades, it's to see exactly what your options are and how you can achieve them.'

'When you put it that way, it's not so bad.'

Cas smiled. 'And I'll be right here when you're finished.' He pulled Dean close and kissed him softly. 'Relax,' he murmured. 'Professor McGonagall likes you. I'm sure she's got a lot of ideas for you.'

Dean made an incoherent noise and blushed, and Cas chuckled quietly.

'Go on,' Cas encouraged, gently pushing Dean towards McGonagall's door.

Dean nodded and knocked on the door, before pushing it open.

'Good morning, Mr Winchester, you're right on time. Please take a seat.' She pointed at the chair in front of her desk, but before Dean sat down, he noticed Umbridge sitting smugly behind her with a clipboard in her hand.

Dean stared warily at her.

'As you can see, the Headmistress will be observing our consultation,' said Professor McGonagall in a tight voice.

Dean narrowed his eyes and slowly sat down. 'Is she observing all your meetings, Professor?' he asked.

'Not all of them, no.'

'Ah, I'm honoured.'

Professor McGonagall grimaced and gathered up the leaflets on her desk. 'Let's get started then. Have you thought much about what you'd like to do when you finish school?'

'Uh… not really,' Dean said. 'I kinda thought I'd get past this part and then see where I'm at.'

'As good a strategy as any, but I think you can do better than that,' Professor McGonagall smiled. 'We already know that your spell work is excellent, but if we look at your written work, this year alone you've made great strides. You have a lot of options ahead of you, if you're willing to put in the effort.'

'If I may, Minerva,' Umbridge began.

'You may not,' Professor McGonagall said, without looking at Umbridge.

'I took the liberty of going over Winchester's previous grades,' Umbridge continued.

'Oh good.'

'It seems to me that he has not been interested in his work at all in the years running up to this one. I see that Dumbledore approved holding him back a year, but I can't seem to see a reason why,' she said in sugary tones.

'That's because it's none of your business,' Dean said hotly.

Professor McGonagall held up a placating hand. 'I'm afraid that is between Winchester and the Headmaster-'

'Former Headmaster,' Umbridge said, narrowing her eyes. 'By the looks of this, how are we to know that Mr Edlund isn't completing all of Winchester's work for him? How are we to assume that this boy has any prospects at all?'

Professor McGonagall sighed deeply. 'I have known Mr Winchester a long time, and he has always shown a natural talent. All he needed was the right motivation. Mr Edlund has been a great help to him, I'm sure, but I am positive that this is all Winchester's own work. So, Winchester, I think there are certainly things you could do. For example, have you considered teaching?'

Dean's eyebrows shot up, and Umbridge nearly fell out of her chair.

'Teaching?' Dean repeated.

'Yes, Winchester, teaching,' said Professor McGonagall, smiling again. 'I recall that last year, you helped Potter learn enough defensive magic to get him through the Triwizard Tournament. I've also spoken to Professor Flitwick, who noted a great improvement in Mr Edlund's potion making thanks to your tutoring.'

'I - well yeah, I guess.'

'Many other students have also commented on the effectiveness of your tutoring,' she added pointedly, and Dean knew she meant the DA. 'Now, of course, there aren't always positions available in institutions such as ours, but that doesn't mean you can't try other schools, or go down the private tutoring route-'

'Winchester? Teach?' Umbridge said with a horrible little giggle. 'I'm afraid you're quite wrong, Minerva.'

'Am I?' said McGonagall. 'I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter, Dolores, but Winchester is having his consultation just now, and while I'm happy to give him suggestions, it's ultimately up to him.'

'There is hardly any need to give him false hope-'

'Here is some information on the training you would have to complete after you leave Hogwarts,' Professor McGonagall interrupted loudly, passing Dean a leaflet with 'DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION' emblazoned on it. 'You certainly show an affinity for Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts-'

Umbridge giggled again. 'It'll be a long while before that position is open.'

'I'm sure it will be, Dolores,' Professor McGonagall said dismissively before continuing what she was saying. 'You have it in you to teach most subjects, I would say, although I don't see you particularly enjoying teaching History of Magic.'

Dean snorted, getting another smile from Professor McGonagall.

'Before you go, Dean, I want to say that I'm very happy with your progress this year. You have worked very hard, and I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would be happy he gave you another chance.'

Dean rubbed the back of his head. 'Come on, Professor, you'll ruin my street cred,' he said bashfully.

'In that case, you'd best go,' she smiled. 'Good luck with your exams, though I'm sure you won't need it.'

'Thanks, Professor,' Dean grinned, getting up. 'Headmistress.' He gave Umbridge a short, mocking bow, then left the room chortling to himself.

'How did it go?' Cas asked once Dean had closed the door.

Dean showed him the leaflet that Professor McGonagall gave him. 'She thinks I could teach.'

Cas beamed. 'I agree. What do you think?'

'I'll think about it,' he said, but walked away with a proud fuzzy feeling in his chest.

Welcome back! If you want to support my published work, The Boy in the Snow by C. Fletcher is now available on amazon as a paperback and an ebook. I'd really appreciate it! See you again next time :)