Grawp

The next few days, following the twins' dramatic departure, were nothing short of complete chaos.

Cas received his documents a lot more quickly than Dean had expected, though the Ministry seal on the large, thick envelope most likely sped along Umbridge's screening process. Dean spotted the smart Ministry eagle owl flying through the air towards them before Cas did, and nudged him.

'You expecting something from the Ministry?' Dean asked, barely able to keep his voice under control.

'No,' Cas frowned. He picked up the letter as soon as it was dropped in front of him and opened it, then promptly spat pumpkin juice all over the sheaf of parchment he pulled out. He swore, then siphoned the juice off the parchment before it could cause any damage.

Several people turned to look at him, having never heard such foul language come out of his mouth before.

'What is it?' Dean asked, knowing full well what it was.

Cas turned the parchment over, as though expecting to find proof that it was a fake - a joke. 'It's - it's my mother's will,' he said in shock. 'And the deed to the house… my house… I don't understand…'

'You okay?' Dean asked.

'I - yes - yes, I'm okay,' Cas said, still staring at the parchment. 'I have to go, I just need a moment.'

'Sure thing,' Dean said, watching him leave the Great Hall, reading the parchment over and over again as he went. A few forks and goblets flew off the tables in his wake but he didn't seem to notice.

Dean gave him some space, but was happy to see him in Charms later that day, and once again asked him if he was all right.

'Yes,' Cas whispered, smiling. He squeezed Dean's hand. 'I don't know how this happened, but… I'm free.'

Dean grinned. 'Yeah. You are.' He thought that Cas was handling everything remarkably well.

Fred and George had made sure nobody was likely to forget them anytime soon. For one thing, they had not left instructions on how to remove the swamp that now filled the corridor on the fifth floor of the east wing. Umbridge and Filch had been observed trying different means of removing it but without success. Eventually, the area was roped off and Filch was given the task of escorting students across it to their lessons. Teachers like McGonagall or Flitwick could almost certainly have removed the swamp in an instant but, just the case of Fred and George's Wildfire Whiz-bangs, they seemed to prefer to watch Umbridge struggle.

Inspired by Fred and George's example, a great number of students were now vying for the newly vacant position of Troublemakers-in-Chief, including Sherlock.

While Cas never actively participated in the troublemaking, not wanting to tarnish his reputation as Prefect, he turned a blind eye whenever he saw someone up to mischief on his patrols. Once, however, he couldn't help himself. He was patrolling with Dean one afternoon, when they came across Lee Jordan attempting to open the door to Umbridge's office, his robes wiggling suspiciously. Cas slowed to a stop, looked around, then raised his hand and pushed open Umbridge's door with his power.

'Oops,' he said, watching Lee delightedly dashing inside and releasing whatever it was that he had concealed in his robes.

Dungbombs and Stink Pellets were dropped so frequently in the corridors that it became the new fashion for students to perform Bubble-Head Charms on themselves before leaving lessons, which ensured them a supply of fresh air.

Filch prowled the hallways with a horsewhip ready in his hands, desperate to catch miscreants, but the problem was that there were now so many of them he never knew which way to turn. The Inquisitorial Squad attempted to help him, but odd things kept happening to its members. Warrington of the Slytherin Quidditch team reported to the hospital wing with a horrible skin condition that made him look as though he had been coated in cornflakes, and Pansy Parkinson missed all her lessons the following day after sprouting antlers.

Meanwhile, it became clear just how many Skiving Snackboxes Fred and George had managed to sell before leaving Hogwarts. Umbridge only had to enter her classroom for the students assembled there to faint, vomit, develop dangerous fevers, or spout blood from both nostrils. Shrieking with rage and frustration, she attempted to trace the mysterious symptoms to their source, but the students told her stubbornly they were suffering from 'Umbridge-itis'. After putting four successive classes in detention and failing to discover their secret, she was forced to give up and allow the bleeding, swooning, sweating and vomiting students to leave her classes in droves.

Castiel kept a close eye on these students, watching for signs of them having eaten too much, or not being able to take the antidote, and cured them himself whenever they needed.

'Hmm, I wonder if Fred and George left a stash of antidotes and their instructions with someone at Hogwarts,' Dean speculated, after watching Cas swiftly clear up the nose-bleed of a second-year Ravenclaw.

'I couldn't say for certain, but I'm sure they would want to make sure the students were safe in their absence,' Cas said, refusing to meet Dean's eyes, a small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. 'And I'm sure they would have shown someone how to make the antidotes in case they ran out.'

Dean nodded, smirking. 'Right. That seems sensible.'

'Indeed.'

But not even the users of the Snackboxes could compete with the master of chaos, Peeves, who seemed to have taken Fred's parting words deeply to heart. Cackling madly, he soared through the school, upending tables, bursting out of blackboards, toppling statues and vases; twice he shut Mrs Norris inside a suit of armour. Peeves smashed lanterns and snuffed out candles. He juggled burning torches over the heads of screaming students, caused neatly stacked piles of parchment to topple into fires or out of windows; flooded the second floor when he pulled off all the taps in the bathrooms, dropped a bag of tarantulas in the middle of the Great Hall at breakfast and, whenever he fancied a break, spent hours at a time floating along after Umbridge and blowing loud raspberries every time she spoke.

None of the staff but Filch seemed to be stirring themselves to help her. A week after Fred and George's departure, Professor McGonagall was witnessed walking right past Peeves, who was loosening a crystal chandelier, and muttering to him, 'It unscrews the other way.'

To cap matters, Montague, who had been shoved into a Vanishing cabinet by Fred and George and reappeared stuck in a toilet, was still disoriented and confused.

'Should we say something?' said Hermione in a worried voice, watching Montague's parents marching angrily up to the front door out of the window during Charms. 'About what happened to him? In case it helps Madam Pomfrey cure him?'

'He'll be fine,' Cas said, watching the teacup he'd charmed run around his desk on four stout legs.

'More trouble for Umbridge, isn't it?' said Harry in a satisfied voice.

'That's all very well, but what if Montague's permanently injured?'

'He isn't,' Cas said firmly. 'He's recovering, just slowly. Frankly, I'm not too motivated to speed up the process. But he will be okay. Eventually.'

'Who cares anyway?' Ron said irritably, while his teacup stood up drunkenly, trembling violently at its spindly knees. 'Montague shouldn't have tried to take all those points from Gryffindor, should he? If you want to worry about anyone, Hermione, worry about me!'

'You?' she said, catching her teacup as it scampered away across the desk. 'Why should I be worried about you?'

'When Mum's next letter finally gets through Umbridge's screening process I'm going to be in deep trouble. I wouldn't be surprised if she's sent another Howler.'

'But-'

'It'll be all my fault Fred and George left, you wait. She'll say I should have grabbed the ends of their brooms and hung on, or something…'

'Well, if she does say that it'll be very unfair, you couldn't have done anything! But I'm sure she won't. I mean, if it's really true they've got premises in Diagon Alley, they must have been planning this for ages.'

'Yeah, but that's another thing, how did they get premises?' said Ron, hitting his teacup so hard with his wand its legs collapsed underneath it. 'It's a bit dodgy, isn't it? They'll need loads of Galleons to afford the rent on a place in Diagon Alley. She'll want to know what they've been up to, to get their hands on that sort of gold.'

'Well, yes, that occurred to me,' said Hermione. 'I've been wondering whether Mundungus has persuaded them to sell stolen goods or something.'

'He hasn't,' Harry said curtly.

'How do you know?' said Ron.

Harry hesitated, but confessed that he had given the twins his winnings from the Triwizard Tournament.

Once Charms was over, they walked out into the weak May sunshine for their break, and Hermione fixed Harry with a suspicious look.

'What?' Harry said, rolling his eyes.

'When are you going to go back to Snape for more Occlumency lessons?'

'I've been practising with Cas!' Harry said indignantly.

'Yes, but Cas can't do Legilimency, so we can't tell if it's working,' Hermione protested. 'You can't tell me you've not been having funny dreams, because Ron told me you were muttering in your sleep again last night.'

'I was dreaming about Quidditch,' Harry said through gritted teeth, throwing Ron a furious look.

'But you are trying to block your mind, aren't you?'

'Of course I am,' Harry said, sounding insulted.

'You know,' said Ron, changing the subject to avoid an argument, 'if Montague doesn't recover before Slytherin play Hufflepuff, we might be in with a chance of winning the Cup.'

'Yeah, that and if Cas suddenly forgets how to fly,' Dean snorted.

'Well - well yeah, but I've been getting better. I think I can take him.'

Cas smiled at him. 'You have been getting better,' he agreed. 'I would say you're in with a good shot.'

Ron beamed at him. 'Yeah!' he said enthusiastically, and he couldn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

The final match of the Quidditch season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, was to take place on the last weekend of May. Although Slytherin had been narrowly defeated by Hufflepuff in their last match, Gryffindor were not daring to hope for victory, due mainly (though of course nobody said it to him) to Ron's abysmal goalkeeping record, and the fact that Cas had already demonstrated his one-man-army scoring ability.

John, Cas and Ron all left breakfast early on the morning of the match to get changed.

Angelina ran through their plan of attack one more time with the Gryffindor team. It mostly involved stopping Cas from getting the Quaffle, and both John and Andrew Kirke were tasked with keeping Bludgers aimed at Cas at all times, while Alicia and Katie were both told to block him as much as possible. Ron had a better chance at saving shots from either of Ravenclaw's other Chasers than Cas. It was hardly a foolproof plan, but it was the best they had.

The Gryffindors flew out first, to Lee Jordan's announcement, though he sounded much less enthusiastic without Fred and George around.

John flew up, taking his place beside Katie. He spotted Dean in the stands, in the front row with Sam, then Sherlock further back with Harry and Hermione.

Then came the Ravenclaws, Cas coming out last at the same confidently lazy pace he had when they faced the Slytherins.

Madam Hooch began the match, but Roger Davies was the first to grab the Quaffle, dodging past first Angelina, then Alicia, then Katie, and launching the Quaffle past Ron's feeble attempt at catching it, scoring for Ravenclaw.

The Gryffindors in the audience all groaned, but they were drowned out by cheers and whoops from the Ravenclaws as Roger did a victory lap of the pitch.

John sighed, hovering nearby. He hadn't bothered to look at the outcome of the match, not wanting to confirm what was likely to be a crushing loss until it had already happened. At least there was still a reason to try if he didn't look, he reasoned. He looked around the pitch and saw Cas circling overhead, watching for his opportunity, so John streaked after the nearest Bludger, wacking it at Cas to break his concentration.

True to form, Cas merely flipped over it, but grabbed the Quaffle when the Bludger almost hit Katie instead, forcing her to drop it.

'You'll have to do better than that, Watson!' Cas called gleefully, speeding past him.

John's heart sank as Cas approached the goalposts, but before he could make his shot, a Bludger aimed by Gryffindor's other Beater, Andrew Kirke, hit the tail of Cas's broom, forcing him, too, to drop the Quaffle. Kirke looked so shocked, he almost fell out of the air himself.

John then felt an odd tingle in the back of his mind, and turned around to see Sherlock leaving the stadium, following Hagrid with Harry and Hermione.

Where are you going? John frowned.

Hagrid needs us. Seems urgent. Sherlock showed John an image of Hagrid's freshly injured face and John gasped, alarmed.

Be careful.

John tried to focus on the match, but it proved very difficult, especially when Hagrid began leading them into the Forest. Both he and Sherlock felt the stomach-twisting uncomfortable energy within the trees, but Sherlock pushed on anyway, despite John's misgivings. He didn't even realise he had been hovering in one spot, staring into the distance, until Cas flew up and shook his shoulders.

'John, are you all right?' he said loudly.

John blinked, shaking his head. 'Yeah, fine,' he said, rubbing his eyes. He looked at Cas and saw that he was pale and sweating. 'Are you okay?' John asked.

Cas nodded. 'I'm fine. Concentrate.'

John took a breath, adjusting his grip on the bat, and watched Cas fly back into formation. John frowned, Cas's flying wasn't as smooth as it had been, and he was beginning to look quite ill. The longer the match went on, the sloppier Cas's flying became, and all of a sudden, Gryffindor saw hope.

Angelina directed the other Chasers to move their focus away from Cas, and finally began scoring. Even Ron's confidence grew, as he saved most of the weak shots Cas was making. The Gryffindor team moved with renewed vigour, and the crowd cheered them on as they began pulling ahead.

Cho frantically scoured the sky for the Snitch, desperate to end the match before Gryffindor scored any more points, until Cas slipped sideways off his broom, barely catching himself, and Roger called a timeout.

Both teams touched down, Cas stumbling as he did so.

'Right, looks like Cas is pretty much out of commission,' Angelina said, watching Roger grab Cas to keep him steady. 'So we keep pressing the advantage. Andrew, I want you to keep on Cas anyway, keep the Bludgers flying his way. Ginny, keep looking for that Snitch, the sooner we can win this the better, we don't want to give them time to recover. John, I want you to - John!'

John, who had just felt a wave of pure shock from Sherlock, struggled to pull himself back to the match. 'Sorry - just - give me a minute…'

A giant! came Sherlock's voice, reverberating around John's head.

What?

Hagrid brought back his half-brother. That's what took him so long.

You're joking!

Sherlock showed him all sixteen feet of Hagrid's brother Grawp, towering over them in the gloomy forest, and John fell backwards with a thump.

Ginny yanked John to his feet, bringing him to his senses. 'Come on, John, let's get back in the air.'

John nodded, mounting his broom again.

Cas was now veering around, barely controlling his broom. Roger stopped him from trying to get control of the Quaffle, so he ran feeble interference on the Gryffindor Chasers instead.

By now, even John was looking around for the Snitch, so Ginny could put the Ravenclaws out of their misery.

Cho spotted it first and went tearing after it. If she could catch it then Ravenclaw could still win, but just as she reached out for it, Ginny dove from above her and snatched it away from the tips of her fingers.

'Ginny Weasley catches the Snitch. Gryffindor wins!' Lee Jordan shouted over the cheering of the crowd. 'Gryffindor wins the Quidditch Cup!'

Cho was the first to land, and she angrily threw her broom on the ground, then stormed off to the changing rooms.

The rest of the Ravenclaw team landed not long after her, but as soon as Cas touched down, he turned white and fainted.

Dean sprinted across the pitch, kneeling next to Cas just as he came around.

'What's wrong?' Dean asked, helping him up. 'Do you have to go?'

Cas shook his head. 'Help me to the changing room,' he mumbled, holding tightly onto Dean.

'You got it.' Dean helped him to the changing rooms, and while John was pleased they had won, he thought he'd let Ron bask in the glory, and slipped away to check on Cas.

When John got to the changing rooms, he found Cas sitting on a bench, throwing up into a bucket that Dean was holding for him.

'Maybe it was something you ate,' Dean was saying sympathetically, rubbing Cas's back with his free hand.

Cas just groaned and threw up again.

'Do you want some help getting up to Madam Pomfrey?' Roger offered, once the rest of the team had changed.

Cas shook his head, shakily holding the bucket. 'Just need a minute,' he slurred.

'It's okay, I got him,' Dean said.

'We should go before the Gryffindors start parading around,' Cho said bitterly, leading the team out.

Cas heaved once again, and emerged from the bucket looking chalky white. 'Are they gone?' he croaked.

'The team? Yeah,' said Dean.

Cas nodded, pulled what looked like a squishy sweet out of his pocket and popped it in his mouth. The effect was almost instant. Colour returned to his face and he straightened up, Vanishing the contents of the bucket.

Dean gaped at him, confused, but John grinned as he realised what Cas had done.

'Skiving Snackboxes?' said John.

Cas nodded guiltily.

'Oh my God, you threw the match?' Dean said incredulously.

'Don't say that so loud,' Cas said, nervously shushing Dean and glancing around to make sure they really were alone. 'I felt bad for Ron,' he admitted. 'We already got to grind Slytherin into the ground, there was no need to do it to you as well.'

'But you gave up the Cup,' said John.

Cas shrugged. 'I couldn't do it to Ron. He already has such low confidence.'

Dean kissed the side of Cas's head. 'You're so sweet,' he gushed.

'You won't tell anyone, will you?' Cas said anxiously.

John shook his head, grinning, but suddenly his head spun, and he watched Hagrid, Sherlock, Harry and Hermione being threatened by the angry herd of centaurs.

They won't hurt me, Sherlock reassured him, but even from his distance, John could feel the rage radiating from them. They're very upset with Firenze though.

John sighed.

You'd best join the rest of the team. John could hear his smirk, even in his mind. I can see them gathering outside the pitch.

John chuckled. 'I should go,' he said to Cas and Dean. 'Are you coming?'

Cas shook his head. 'I think I'll let you enjoy the victory,' he smiled. 'I'll stay here with Dean for now.'

'Ah, I see,' John grinned.

'See what?' said Dean.

'Oh nothing, just that Cas wants to snog you to death.'

'He wants to what?' Dean asked, confused, and Cas turned bright red.

John just laughed and left the changing rooms, running over to join the crowd of Gryffindors just as they hoisted Ron up with the silver Quidditch Cup, breaking into a delighted verse of "Weasley is our King".

Harry, Hermione and Sherlock joined them just as they reached the front door.

John grabbed Sherlock and kissed him, finally allowing his joy at winning to flood through them both.

'Why don't we wait until tomorrow to tell Ron about Hagrid's news?' John said when he let go of Sherlock.

'Fine by me,' said Sherlock.

'Where are Cas and Dean?' Hermione asked as they followed the crowd through the Entrance Hall.

John snorted. 'They'll be up later. Don't worry, Lee's putting on the party, they won't miss much.' John looked up to admire Sherlock's face, watching his cheeks turn slowly pink as he realised what John was thinking.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but held John's hand all the way upstairs, watching proudly as John celebrated with the rest of the team.

Welcome back everyone. Thanks to Morgan Tara Befan for the review.

If you're in Europe with me, I hope you're doing ok. If you're not in Europe pray for us.