(7/23/2018) Man, one of these days I'll be able to go to San Diego Comic Con. In the meantime I'll have to live vicariously through YouTube.

Thank you Waterhead36, WhymustIpickaname, DreamFeathers, Lovingh3art, AriettaRyuusaki, ngregory763, RandomZambi, Dark-Supernatural-Angel, Samuel William Winchester, Sailor Dragonball 87, Mystery Bela Talbot (?), KSchweitz, and jeremy's wife for the reviews! And all you favoriters and followers get cockroach clusters!

Snape and McGonagall stared, dumbfounded, at the newcomer. He was dark-haired and blue-eyed, dressed innocuously in a cheap black suit and a trench-coat. If it hadn't been for Umbridge's outraged reaction to his presence, the pair would have assumed that this was just an American wizard that had wandered into the castle by mistake.

Something about the stranger raised the hackles on Snape's neck. Not only that, but for some reason the Dark Mark he so carefully kept hidden had begun to prickle, as if it was reacting somehow to the man's presence. In fact, as soon as he and the Winchesters had completed their brief greeting those blue eyes had swiveled over to lock onto his own brown ones. The intruder's head cocked to one side as Severus did his best not to clutch his forearm.

"Where the hell have you been?" Dean demanded, drawing the stranger's gaze away. "We've been trying to get ahold of you for freaking ages, man."

"I'm sorry," 'Cass' said. "I was preoccupied.

"Preoccupied by what?"

"Excuse me!" Umbridge shrieked. "This… This person apparated inside of Hogwarts Castle. I demand an explanation at once!"

"That shouldn't be possible," McGonagall said sternly. "Surely you're mistaken."

"I AM NOT!"

"What is that?" Cass asked Dean curiously. Before getting an answer, however, he turned towards the so-called High Inquisitor. "What are you?"

"It's an Umbridge," Dean said mischievously.

"Umbridge? I have never heard of such a thing. Are we meant to kill it?"

At that morbid query, the woman in question whipped out her wand and cried, "Incarcerous!"

The conjured ropes wrapped themselves around the newcomer who, after peering at the conjured binding, simply extended his arms out and broke free. After a flabbergasted moment Umbridge followed up with a Stunning Spell. The bright blue light bounced off of the man's chest, his striped tie fluttering up and then down from the impact, and smashed into one of the castle's suits of armor. His eyes followed the spell's path impassively. Cass then reached out purposefully with the index and middle fingers of his right hand and tapped Umbridge on the forehead. She collapsed like a stone.

"You still haven't answered my question," Dean said carefully, as if poking a person unconscious was something completely ordinary.

"What should I tell him?" Castiel asked worriedly. Heaven's stark whiteness was almost blinding in comparison to the candlelit walls of Hogwarts Castle.

"The truth," Naomi replied. "You've been—"

"—following demons. There is an inordinate number here."

"Shit," cursed Dean. "If there's really a bunch of demons about then Crowley can't be that far behind."

"Is she dead?" McGonagall interrupted calmly.

"No," said the angel.

"Pity. Regardless, she did have a point. May I ask who this is?"

"Oh, sorry," Sam said sheepishly. "Minerva, Severus, this is Castiel. He's a… friend."

"And this nonsense about him apparating inside the castle grounds?"

"I flew," Castiel clarified.

"Flew?"

"Yes. I am an—"

"Idiot!" Dean slid in. "Why didn't you tell us about this shit sooner? We could have helped!"

"I am asking for your help now. Why are you angry?"

As Dean's fury was mostly a smokescreen against his friend's tendency to disregard secrecy, he quickly said, "It ain't your fault. This bitch—" his toe nudged Umbridge's snoring form, "—is giving us problems."

McGonagall cleared her throat. "A situation we should rectify before she awakens. Come."

Minerva swept herself in the direction of Dumbledore's office, Snape on her heels. "We'll talk later," Sam said to Castiel as he clapped the angel on the shoulder. "It's good to see you."

"The Winchesters aren't stupid," Castiel told Naomi. "They'll suspect me of duplicity sooner rather than later."

"Then make sure it's later," the other angel said firmly. "We know Crowley's looking for the tablet. We need to find it before he does or all is lost."

…Castiel gave his friend a strained smile. "And you."

They followed the senior Hogwarts professors to Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle that guarded the entrance took one look at Castiel and allowed them entrance without a password. Both Minerva and Severus lifted their eyebrows at him but thankfully forewent any probing queries.

All of them were taken aback, however, when Dumbledore rose from his desk, wand in hand. For the first time since they'd arrived, the Winchesters saw why supposedly more clearheaded and powerful members of the wizarding world submitted to the man. The menace Dumbledore exuded was palpable as he gazed blackly over his half-moon spectacles at Castiel. "Why have you come?"

"I mean you no harm."

"Can you say the same for the others of your kind?"

"I am alone."

"Time out!" Dean cried. He stepped in front of Castiel. "The hell is going on?"

"An angel inside of Hogwarts," Dumbledore said wearily. He slowly sat back down. "If there was any indication of the end of days…"

"Angel?" an astonished McGonagall queried.

"Sit. All of you, sit." At Dumbledore's insistence, Minerva and Severus conjured their own chairs, both of them stiff-backed and made of a dark wood. They set their eyes on Castiel, boring into him with an intensity that might have put a normal being on edge.

Sam and Dean took the seats that were already positioned in front of the Headmaster's desk. Castiel, however, took the opportunity to walk over and greet the scraggly bird that Dumbledore kept as a familiar. The angel rubbed one knuckle on the thing's chest and said a simple, "Hello."

The creature gave a happy-sounding squawk, nipped the Castiel's finger affectionately, then abruptly burst into flames. Its self-made pyre dissipated quickly, leaving a pile of gray ash. Sam and Dean prepared apologies for whatever Castiel had done and were taken aback by the slight smile on Dumbledore's lips. "Not to worry," the Headmaster assured. "Fawkes is a Phoenix. He'll be right as rain soon enough. Moreover," he said as he caught Castiel's eyes, "if he trusts you, then I will."

"Thank you," the angel replied.

"What is wrong with that man?" Castiel demanded.

"Nothing that concerns you," Naomi replied stiffly. "You are not to ask about it. Are we clear?"

"Yes."

…"I am merely here to ask the Winchesters for help."

McGonagall cleared her throat. "I would like further explanation regarding this 'angel' business."

"They're the antithesis of demons, my dear Minerva," Dumbledore said gently. "We have nothing to fear from this one."

"Does he pose any threat to the students?"

"No," Castiel inserted, annoyed at the implication.

"Very well, then. I suggest we move on to more pressing matters: Umbridge is under the impression that Mr. Winchester is a Squib and will be taking his status up with the Board."

"He could be easily replaced," Snape said blithely.

Dean turned slightly to glare at the Potions Master. "I'm sittin' right here, dickwad."

"Just the sort of crude language I would expect from an uneducated Muggle."

"Yeah, well, better than sounding like a stuck-up prick."

"Dean!" Sam barked.

"Enough!" Minerva snapped. She glowered at both Dean and Severus, cowing both men into silence. "Mr. Winchester is not easily replaceable if only by virtue of the fact that he and his brother supplanted Umbridge herself for the position. Goodness knows we cannot hand that loathsome woman another opportunity to garner power within this institution."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and shook his head slightly. "Certainly not. But I think I may have an easy solution for all of it." He gave all of them a conspiratorial wink.

"Does it involve shooting her?" Dean asked. "Please tell me it involves shooting her."

To his credit, Dumbledore merely blinked at the extraordinarily violent suggestion. "As… permanent as that might be, I think we'd be better off with a more… diplomatic method."

"Which is?" Sam wondered.

"The Board of Governors, as is their right, does have oversight over our professors. After all, it is their children who attend our school. There is only one person, however, who has the final say regarding all the other positions."

"Who?"

"Why, me, of course."

Umbridge awoke the next morning surrounded by curious students. She was stiff, cold, and disheveled from spending the night on the stone floor and was irritable enough to threaten expulsion if the poor first through third-years didn't immediately vacate her presence. After they'd scurried off, Umbridge headed straight for Dumbledore's office. He listened serenely to her tirade about the intruder and the Winchesters before asking whether or not she truly meant to meet with the Board. If so, they were waiting for her down in Hogsmeade.

Rather than waste time questioning how Dumbledore could possibly know what she'd intended and why the Board of Governors had been assembled when she had yet to give them her grievances, Umbridge hustled down to the village. She returned triumphantly several hours later, a new, officiously signed decree in hand:

All Hogwarts Professor appointments shall be henceforth ultimately ratified by the Board of Governors and their onsite representative, the High Inquisitor. Requirements for maintaining the position include, but are not limited to, confirmation of their status as a certifiable witch or wizard and demonstration of high magical skill. Should the individual in question not meet all criteria they shall be terminated from their professorship and shall no longer be permitted to conduct classroom instruction.

After presenting the decree to Dumbledore Umbridge gleefully headed for the Defense Against the Arts classroom to hand down Dean Winchester's termination notice. Except when she arrived what should have been a full class of fifth-years turned out to be empty.

A chorus of cheers floated up from an open window. The High Inquisitor peered out and found the missing students engaged in what was appeared to be a brawl on the empty grass between the castle and the forest. They were being supervised by the Winchesters and their friend with the unexplained apparating abilities. Furious, she hurried through the hallway, descended the stairs, exited a back door, sprinted down the hill, and came to an indignant, panting stop at the outside of the crowd.

It took her several minutes to catch her breath. By the time she could speak, the children were patting the backs of a Ravenclaw girl and a Hufflepuff boy covered in dust and grass stains. Potter and a Slytherin boy appeared to be preparing to take their place. "Hem HEM."

The students fell silent. "Can I help you?" Professor Winchester (the taller one) asked politely.

"Where is the other Professor Winchester?"

Sam's eyes slid behind the High Inquisitor. She spun around and glared upwards. Before Dean could blurt out whatever low grade insult he had brewing Umbridge slapped a piece of parchment into his chest. "As of this moment forward your position here has been terminated per Educational Decree Number—"

"Yeah, I know," Dean interjected as the neglected piece of legislation floated to the grass.

Dolores' speech stuttered to a halt. "You know?"

"You deaf?"

Umbridge drew herself up to her not-so-significant height. It brought the top of her head up to Dean's shoulder. "Then you shall vacate the premises immediately!"

"No."

Taken completely aback, Umbridge's voice shot up in volume and screechiness. "Explain your reticence this instant!"

Dean winced at the noise as his brother came closer. "He's not a professor anymore," Sam explained. "He's a consultant."

"Consultant? CONSULTANT?" Not being a professor effectively quashed Umbridge's authority over his employment. No one on the Board had thought it was their concern who was hired as groundskeeper or caretaker or any of that nonsense. "Who authorized this appointment?"

"Dumbledore."

Dolores fumbled for a response. "That still gives this man no right to hold lessons in a classroom!"

One corner of Dean's lips quirked up. "We ain't in a classroom."

"Of course you are, you—" Dolores cut herself off. Technically they weren't in a classroom; they were on the grounds. She racked her brain over the wording of the newest decree and found the loophole Dumbledore and the Winchesters had quite neatly slithered through.

"You are disturbing the children's education," their trench-coated friend said sternly.

Umbridge had been so focused on the pair of brothers she hadn't noticed the man approach. "I am the Hogwarts High Inquisitor and the Head of Curriculum! I will not be spoken to in such a disrespectful manner by a—"

Castiel withdrew his fingers from Umbridge's forehead as she collapsed onto the grass. Several of the students applauded as the three men glared down at the vile woman. "You sure you're not giving her brain damage by doing that?" asked Sam.

"No," the angel replied. "I'm not sure."

Snickers filtered through the crowd just as the bell rang. "Homework," Dean called as they began to disperse. "Practice the moves. I'm expecting you all to suck less next week."

"Hey," Sam said. "Who's that?"

On the other side of the grassy knoll sat a hut made of wood with a thatched roof. The Winchesters had assumed the place was a relic of sorts, perhaps an abandoned testament to a former tenant, but now it was occupied. A man of incredible size, both in girth and in height, was tending to the overgrown pumpkin patch. His facial features were hidden behind dark, shaggy hair that sprang out from his head in a wild tangle. "Dunno," said Dean. "New guy?"

"Let's go find out."

As soon as they were close enough, Sam called out a friendly, "Hey!" All three came to an abrupt halt once the man was fully in view.

For one, he was even taller than they'd supposed; from far away they hadn't been able to tell he was hunched over one of his vegetables. Now erect, the man towered a good two feet over Sam, a phenomenon that was normally reserved for the inhuman. For another, the newcomer sported a plethora of facial lacerations as well as a monstrous black eye. The apprehension the brothers might have felt over his possible lack of humanity was slightly eclipsed by pity. Dean kept his hand near the dagger he kept concealed on his hip, however, just in case. "Can I help you?" the stranger asked, not unkindly.

"Yeah," Sam replied, "we just wanted to introduce ourselves."

"Ah, I know who ye are! The American professors! Glad t'meet ye. Name's Hagrid. I'm the Care o' Magical Creatures instructor."

"I thought that was Wilhelmina."

"Ah, good ol' Mina! She was fillin' in fer me while I was on… er… holiday."

Dean took stock of Hagrid's wounds. "I'm guessin' you either had a really shitty time or a really, really good time. Like, tequila and aggressive strippers kinda good time."

Hagrid appeared to need a few moments to process the innuendo. Once he did, his cheeks reddened. "I s'pose. Anyways, Dumbledore said you lot should be trusted an' tha's what I'll do. One o'ye is supposed ter attend some o'my classes, I think."

"Dean's gonna do it," Sam said.

"Good! I got some real good ones for m'first class back." Hagrid gave them a painful wink. He then took a careful step back as Castiel pushed in his personal space. "Um." Without explaining himself the angel reached up on the tip of his toes and placed two fingers on Hagrid's chin (the only part of the man's face Castiel could reach). A moment later and all the large man's cuts and contusions were gone.

Castiel's hand dropped away. "There." When he turned back towards the Winchesters he met two withering green-eyed gazes. "What?"

"Nothing," Dean sighed. Hagrid was still using his two massive palms to explore the healing done to his face. "Gallopin' Gorgons!" he exclaimed.

"I was trying to help," the angel said, perturbed.

"Next time, ask," Sam admonished.

"Wha' happened?" a bewildered Hagrid asked.

"American magic," Sam said quickly. "We gotta go. It was nice to meet you."

The two hunters each grabbed one of Castiel's arms and began pulling him towards the castle. Hagrid's, "Nice ter meet ye?" followed them up the stone path. "He was far more injured than he looked," Castiel explained once he was let go. "Several broken ribs and fingers."

"Jesus," Sam gasped. "And he was still walking around like nothing was wrong?"

"His physiology is also quite unique. I believe he is part giant."

"Hold up," Dean said stiffly. "Did you say 'giant'?"

"Yes."

"There are giants?"

"Yes. Not many. What is left primarily live in a colony within the Scandinavian Mountains."

"So he's half giant and half… what?" asked Sam.

"Human."

"How?" Dean demanded. "No, seriously. How? Because, I'm sorry, but the mechanics are not adding up for me."

"If you're asking how a human and a giant procreate then it happens only when a male human and a female giant copulate. If a female human were to be penetrated by a male giant the results would be—"

"Okay, okay, OKAY! That freaking image is never leaving my head," Dean muttered to himself.

"You asked," Sam said wryly.

"And now I need brain bleach."

"Hey, I was wondering." Sam stopped and turned to look back at the forest. "You think there could be Hellhounds in there? I mean, if they've got all that other crap wandering around…"

"Yes," Castiel replied. "There is a nexus between Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory located deep within."

"Wait, what?"

"Do not tell them about that doorway!" Naomi snapped.

"Very well."

The female angel paced a bit. "If they're actively searching for Hellhounds… I wonder…"

"Should I tell them about the pack?"

"Yes. If they are doing what I think then Crowley and his hellspawn may be permanently taken care of."

"I've heard a pack lives that way." Castiel pointed vaguely westward. When the brothers peered in the indicated direction, all they could see was an endless expanse of forest.

"Great," Dean groused. "Care to be more specific?"

"I will be." A rush of air and wings and Castiel was gone.

"Now what?"

Sam sighed. "I think we better go think up more outdoor lessons if we don't want Umbridge to try to kick you out again."

Hagrid's return was the singular bright point currently in Harry's life and he was looking forward to the first of the year's Care of Magical Creatures class taught by his friend. Hermione, however, was apprehensive over Hagrid's plans with Umbridge looming. She had sketched out a safer curriculum for him and, along with Harry, decided to hand deliver the six foot long piece of parchment the Sunday before Hagrid was scheduled to teach. Ron, unfortunately, was stuck on the Quidditch pitch helping to break in the last minute replacements for George, Fred, and Harry's positions.

The pair of them were surprised to see Hagrid had visitors: Professor Winchester (formerly Professor Sam), Mr. Winchester (formerly Professor Dean), and the man in the coat who had overseen Friday's class. In an odd reversal of normalcy, Hagrid was the one looking forbidding as they talked while the Winchester brothers pled. "It's for a good cause," Sam was saying as Harry and Hermione approached.

"Yer talkin' about killin' somethin'!" Hagrid retorted.

"Yeah," Dean snapped, clearly not following the groundskeeper's pacifist line of thinking. "A freaking Hellhound, not a… a… unicorn or somethin'!"

"Don' you even think abou' touchin' a unicorn!"

"I wasn't—gah!" Mr. Winchester grabbed his hair and turned away from Hagrid. "Oh. Hey, Harry."

"What's a… Hellhound?" Harry tentatively asked.

"They collect souls doomed to Hell," Hermione answered quietly. "Why on earth would you want to kill one? For that matter, how do you even go about it? They're immune to practically everything!" Her voice rose in volume and hysteria. "And they're invisible! And they kill horribly! Mauling and tearing and sometimes even eating —"

Harry interrupted Hermione's rant by slapping a hand over her mouth. For whatever reason, the last bit had made Mr. Winchester go pale. Professor Winchester glanced at his brother worriedly as Harry said, "Sorry. She tends to get carried away."

The trench-coated man peered up at Hagrid as Harry released an indignant Hermione's mouth. "You are the only one who can lead us through the forest to the pack," he said. "I have determined their general location but they move constantly."

The abrupt change in subject left them all nonplussed. Finally, Hagrid sighed. "All righ'. T'be honest, those're the on'y things I've met in there tha' I really don' trust. But I'll be needin' a bit t'prepare."

"Take all the time you need," Sam replied. His brother and their friend began to take their leave. "Thank you."

"Hm." The groundskeeper scowled at the three men's backs before smiling at Harry and Hermione. "Here for a cuppa?"

"That and I've got something I'd like to show you," Hermione replied eagerly.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as they entered the cabin.

Hagrid put the pot on his stove and sat heavily down on his chair. "There's a pack o'Hellhounds tha' live in the forest. They wan' to hunt one fer some reason. Right nuisance they are, mostly. Bet they're cute as pups, though."

The faintly whimsical gleam in Hagrid's eyes had Harry and Hermione glancing at one another in alarm. "It'd be hard to keep track of an invisible pet," Harry said quickly.

"Ah, yer prob'ly right."

"Oh. OH," Hermione said abruptly. "Kevin! The Trials! First one! I need to go to the library." The girl shot up from her seat and sprinted from the cabin, her carefully thought out lesson plans forgotten on the floor.

The teapot began to whistle as a bewildered Harry and Hagrid watched Hermione disappear up the hill into the castle. "Kevin?" Hagrid asked as he turned off his stove.

Harry sighed. "I'll fill you in."

Author's Note : I'm assuming Hagrid would adopt a Hellhound and name it Ghosty.