(11/12018) It's short and I'm sorry! But coming up soon is a whole Jon Snow and Co. traveling across the North to get a White Walker kinda hunt thing so… forgive me?

Clarification on the Acid Pops: According to Pottermore there's no consensus on whether or not they're actually damaging or if they're just a trick. Actually, I wrote Castiel's query about why it was being sold to children before I looked it up; apparently Pottermore asked the same thing 0_o

Thank you samoht, ngregory763, Samuel William Winchester, Roserayrose, Lovingh3art, Katzztar, Dark-Supernatural-Angel, and randyr2015 for the reviews! And all you favoriters and followers get werewolf teeth!

The brothers were still trying to calm both Kevin and their three students when Castiel reappeared. Both his sudden arrival and the bloodied bundle in his arms ratcheted up the panic. Even worse, an already hysterical Kevin immediately exclaimed, "Her! It's that demon!"

Harry, Hermione, and Ron all pulled their wands. Meg sneered. "You guys recruiting from preschools now?"

"Cass," Dean said, ignoring the demon's quip, "what the hell?"

"She was inside that misnamed place," the angel answered, his head jerking towards the Shrieking Shack. "I do not know why. I will take her back to the castle." The snow flurried and Castiel was gone.

After a few moments of astonished silence, Hermione timidly wondered, "Is he an angel?"

"How the hell did you figure that out?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Don't!" Harry said quickly. "If she gets started it'll never end."

As Hermione sputtered in indignation, Sam gave a lugubrious sigh. "Let's just all get back up there before Umbridge sees them."

Castiel set Meg down gently on Dean's bed. She hissed in pain, her eyes flaring black. "This whole fucking place is one giant goddamn devil's trap!"

"What?"

"I can feel it, like an ache in my bones." Her eyes blinked black to brown. "Thanks a lot, Clarence."

"You're welcome," said the angel, oblivious to the sarcasm.

The demon resisted rolling her eyes. "How long before frick and frack make it back up here?"

"Not too long. Perhaps we should get you cleaned up."

Meg shrugged. "I'm good. Could use some rest." An awkward quiet descended. "See, Clarence," the demon said with a smirk, "that was your cue to leave. Lady needs some alone time."

"Oh." Abashed, Castiel turned to go.

With great reluctance, Meg called out, "And, uh, thanks. For you know, the rescue."

The angel gave her a little smile, one that, quite horrifyingly, had the demon's heart beating a little faster. "You're welcome."

The brothers attempted to summarize who and what Castiel and Meg were but, as Harry warned, Hermione began to spout an endless fountain of questions and expositions.

Unfortunately, what began as an explanation about the nature of angels and demons turned into a vigorous debate between Sam and Hermione over Heaven's assumed inherent goodness. The latter was adamant that if there were despicable creatures like demons and Voldemort in the world then it stood to reason there must be a corresponding antithesis. Sam, conversely, tried to convince her that nothing was ever so black and white; there were demons who had done good things (albeit sometimes in either a roundabout way or with their own agendas) and there were angels who had done some very, very bad things.

They were arguing so vociferously that a nonplussed Filch forewent his usual prods at the castle entrance. However, the noise attracted other, even more undesirable, attention. "What was that, my dear?" Umbridge asked sweetly as soon as the doors boomed closed.

They spotted the pink-clad witch standing, hands neatly clasped, in front of the winding staircases. Both Sam and Hermione clamped their mouths shut. "Nothing," Sam said unconvincingly.

The loathsome woman tittered girlishly. "Oh, but I thought I heard Miss Granger talking about… what was it? Angels and demons? Surely I was mistaken."

"Yup," Dean uttered. They started moving towards the DADA classroom.

"Of course," Umbridge called before they had gone more than a few steps, "if she were talking about such things, I wonder whether her Muggle parents are trying to exert their influence. It would be deeply troubling given the history between the Wizarding Community and the Church."

"Ain't nothin' to do with them," Dean snapped.

Sam's eyes lit up with sudden inspiration. "We were just talking about the Dan Brown novel. You know, Da Vinci Code? It's his latest book: Angels & Demons.

"I certainly have no idea what you're talking about," Umbridge scoffed. "Are you telling me that all this commotion is about some Muggle fiction?"

"Yes!" Hermione chimed in. "Professor Winchester thought it was a brilliant novel, but I disagreed. I apologize for causing a disruption."

"And well you should be." Umbridge turned on her heel and marched away, muttering under her breath about "inappropriate reading material" and "nonsensical Muggle authors".

"You realize," Kevin scoffed quietly, "that Angels & Demons came out over a decade ago."

"Shh!" Hermione cautioned.

"That was way too bloody close," Ron said breathily.

"Too right," Harry added. "Maybe we should hurry on then."

"Yeah," agreed Dean. They resumed their trek towards the Winchesters' temporary abode, albeit with far less noise.

The truce only lasted until the door to the classroom had closed, after which Hermione resumed their vigorous debate. "You can't possibly make me believe there are no purely good beings out there. The thought is… is…"

"Depressing, that's what," Ron said dejectedly.

"I'm sorry," Sam sighed. "But it's true."

"Plenty of dickheads up in Heaven," Dean grumbled.

"And Hell?" Harry asked.

The brothers exchanged glances. "Well…" Sam started to say.

"Ah hah!" Hermione cried triumphantly. "So therefore, if everything in Hell is bad then everything in Heaven must be good."

"That's a little naive," Castiel reprimanded as he descended the stairs from the classroom's living quarters. "Why must it be so starkly separated?"

Flustered, Hermione stuttered, "B-Because the Church—"

"They are not always the paragons of truth they make themselves to be. I, myself, have fallen to sin."

Castiel's head dipped slightly, the weight of Dean's disappointment and anger over his past acts weighing heavily on his conscience. "Yeah, well," the elder Winchester said, "none of us got a clean record, Cass."

The look of naked gratitude on the angel's face made the man squirm. Dean remembered what Castiel had said midway through the wackiness with their old psychokinetic friend, Fred Jones; seeing what he had wrought in Heaven during his tenure as a Leviathan-saturated God might be so devastating the angel might want to kill himself. It brought to bear the fact that neither Sam nor Dean had yet to address their friend's mysterious reappearance, nor had they done much to insure Castiel's state of mind was, in fact, stable. Dean made a mental note to check on his friend as soon as the whole hellhound business had been dealt with.

"Why does this bother you so?" Cass was asking Hermione.

She sighed miserably. "Because I was hoping, with all the evil in the world, with Lucifer and Voldemort and demons, that there was something out there pure and good, like the angels my parents believed in." The girl buried her face in her hands for a few moments. "It's just so very disheartening to find out there's nothing."

"You guys okay with this?" Dean asked Ron and Harry.

"Mate," Ron answered blithely, "I've been around wizards all my life. They might not have been Death Eaters, but even my mum knows how to brew poisons. Our entire community is made up of shades of gray."

When Mr. Winchester turned his attention to him, Harry merely shook his head. "I might have been raised by Muggles, but they weren't exactly… um… a standard lot."

"We were made to obey," Castiel explained. "Nothing more, nothing less. It caused my siblings great anguish when I tried to explain free will. But while there are many things capable of pure evil, I believe only humans are capable of pure goodness."

"Really?" Hermione asked, her expression suffused with wonder.

"Yes. It is all about choice, and only God's most favored have the capacity to always choose the correct moral direction."

"Okay, great," Dean groused as Hermione visibly brightened. "Now that that's done, we need to know why Meg was sittin' around the Shrieking Shack."

"How about asking me yourself?" came the demon's irritated rejoinder. When the gathering looked up they found Meg glaring regally from the top of the DADA's professor's office stairs. The effect was somewhat spoiled by the blood still coating her face and the way she limped down towards them, but the three students were still cowed.

"You should be resting," Castiel chastised.

"Can't. This place is messing with me. Like a constant itch." Once she was close enough, Meg patted the angel's cheek. "But thanks, Clarence. It's nice to know someone cares."

"Been meaning to ask," Dean inserted, "what's up with the hair?" At the others' consternated expressions, he added, "What?"

"Aww," the demon crooned. "Thanks for noticing, Dean. But this wasn't my idea. It was Crowley's." She gave them a feral grin as she sat on the edge of the display table. "And it's just another reason I want to stab him in the face."

"What the hell are you doing here, Meg?" Sam demanded.

"Crowley's looking for Lucifer's crypts. He wants—"

"She's going to tell them," Castiel said, panic lacing his tone. "Do I have to kill her?"

"She does know the location of the crypts," Naomi mused. "But working with a demon is… unclean."

Affection for the demon warred with Castiel's oddly insistent instinct to obey the angel standing before him. He quickly suggested, "Well, we could use her. As Crowley did."

"Agreed."

"—the Angel Tablet."

Kevin, who had until now been doing nothing more than silently trace a desk's demon's trap with one finger, sat up straight. "What?"

"Angel Tablet?" Sam asked, startled. "There's an Angel Tablet?"

"You know," Meg said sardonically, "I get why Crowley calls you 'moose' now. Yes, Angel Tablet. Crowley found out Lucifer had it, figures it's stashed in a crypt."

"Lucifer has, um, crypts?" Hermione tentatively asked. "Aren't those for the dead?" She flinched when Meg's gaze shot towards her.

"Crypts," the demon repeated. "Warehouses. Storage spaces. Whatever."

"So you've been telling him where they are," Dean said censoriously.

"What can I say? I needed a break from the constant torture. And I did visit them all during my time with Yellow Eyes."

"Then why hasn't this… Crowley found them before now?" came Hermione's inquiry.

Meg's head tilted to one side as she considered the young witch. "You're a brave little midget, aren't you?"

Hermione's back stiffened. "I am a Gryffindor."

"Speaking of the elephant around the room," Meg said as she turned towards the Winchesters, "what the hell are you idiots doing in Hogwarts?"

"Wait," Sam said, startled. "You know what this place is?"

"I've been around a while. Seen Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang. Not only that, some big ol' shitstorm went on around Europe couple of decades ago. Some idiot calling himself the Dark Lord was waking around being a diva. We all thought it was funny."

"'Funny'?" Harry echoed, his temper sparked. "Funny? He killed my parents! He killed so many other innocent people! How could you possibly think that was funny?"

Meg cast Harry a withering look. "Hi, I'm Meg. I'm a demon."

Before she could say anything to incense the boy further, Sam quickly said, "Wait a minute. Hermione's got a valid point. If you've been telling Crowley where they are—"

"Haven't," Meg inserted. "Just getting them in the ballpark. It's here, by the way."

"What's here?"

"The crypt he's looking for."

"Where?" Castiel demanded.

"Why the hell would I tell any of you?"

From inside his coat, Dean brought out the demon-killing knife. "Pretty sure we could motivate you really damn quick."

"Please. Don't strain yourself. Look, I'll make you all a deal." Meg twirled a finger into the air. "Break down whatever shit they've got working as a devil's trap and I'll spill all my little beans."

"Easy enough," Sam said.

"Not quite, Sammy." The demon pointed at the sigils painted on the desks and the ceiling. "It's not like those. It's built into the entire castle. Probably some kind of spell." She sighed. "Look, my goal right now is to get my ass out of Scotland and to the other side of the world away from King Dickwad, at least until I've got enough support to take him down. I can't do that stuck in here."

"There might be something in the library," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I think I'll recheck Hogwarts, a History and see if there's any mention of demonic protection. Ron, come help me."

"What?" the boy asked. "Why me?"

"Come on," Hermione urged. She grabbed her friend's arm and began pulling him from the room. "You're taller than me. You can reach things I can't."

"I'm not some kind of book retrieving thing!"

"Yes, you are!"

"No, I'm not!"

The pair continued bickering even after the classroom door had closed. Harry, however, merely set his jaw and looked each of them in the eye. "What can I do?"

"You can go get Hagrid to move his ass," Dean suggested.

"About what exactly?"

"We need a hellhound," Sam explained. "It's… complicated."

"We're trying to close the Gates of Hell," Kevin said suddenly.

Dean resisted the urge to palm his face as Meg asked, interestedly, "Excuse me?"

Despite Sam's frantic attempt to quiet the young man, Kevin plowed on. "Close the Gates. Get Crowley and all you sons of bitches to stay where you're supposed to."

"Really, now?" To their surprise, Meg let out a chortle.

"You're okay with this?" Sam asked incredulously.

"You locking away Crowley? Sign me up right fucking now."

"Ain't like you're on the safe list, bitch," Dean growled.

"Oh, Dean. You're so hot when you're all tough and manly." A smirk settled on the demon's lips. "I know we got history. I know the second I'm no longer of use I've got myself a problem. But for now? Let's play nice."

"For now."

"Great!" Meg pushed herself up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bed to go bleed on."

"Wait," Harry said as he rushed to the demon's side. "Maybe you should head to Madam Pomfrey."

"Who?"

"Our nurse. I could show you the way."

After a moment's consideration, Meg shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

"I'll come, too," Castiel said. He walked over and draped Meg's arm around his shoulders. "Keep an eye on her," he told Dean as they passed the pair of brothers, skirting their way carefully around the devil's trap painted on the ceiling.

"Thanks, Cass," Sam said. A few minutes later and the Winchesters were alone in their classroom. "How far are we trusting her?"

"About as far as I can throw Hagrid," Dean answered. "But for now, I guess we don't got a choice."

A rustling, crunching noise interrupted their conversation. The source was Kevin who, in the lull, had unwrapped a treat from Honeydukes and was now munching happily away. "What? I don't hear Crowley anymore. We're gonna get that demon trial done. All things considered, everything's feeling pretty damn good."

"Yeah, great," Dean muttered, mostly to himself. "Like that ever lasts."

Madam Pomfrey was understandably shocked at the state of her new patient, and even more so once she was privy to the true nature of the woman before her. Harry made noises about "doctor-patient privilege" (a phrase he'd overheard numerous times on one of the medical dramas his Aunt Petunia was so fond of), but it wasn't until Meg flashed black eyes and threatened to peel her face off that the nurse gave in. Rather than be scared, however, Pomfrey harrumphed and shook her finger at the demon, chastising the hellspawn for her attitude and treating Harry and Castiel to the rare sight of a completely flabbergasted Meg. The display did, however, impress upon the nurse the importance of keeping her new patient's origins from becoming common knowledge.

Unfortunately, Hermione's obstinate persistence gave no further clues as to what exactly was fueling the Hogwarts devil's trap. She even bullied both Ron and Kevin into helping her, but nothing came of it. By the time the girl had given up, Christmas Break had arrived and the other professors, including Dumbledore, appeared unavailable to help. It was decided that they would shelve the devil's trap issue until after the holidays and focus instead on the hellhounds.

Asking Harry to convince Hagrid to lead them into the Forbidden Forest ended up being necessary. The half-giant had been stalling, still convinced that there had to be some redeeming quality to the creatures. Hagrid, however, held Harry in very high regard and was more amenable to the idea once the reasoning behind the hunt was made clear. At least, the reasoning as Harry made it out to be.

"You told him what?" Sam asked incredulously.

"That it was for a very powerful, very important spell," Harry replied. "Honestly, I didn't lie."

"It's still a lie of omission."

"Hey," Dean told his brother, "at least we're going."

"I guess," Sam replied, unconvinced that the trickery Harry had employee was necessary. "We still need to be able to see them."

"Oh, forgot!" Harry said suddenly. "Hermione asked me to give you this. She said it would help with the hellhounds."

The boy held out a piece of parchment. After he'd unfolded it, Sam read, "'The dire creatures may be seen only by the damned or through an object scorched with holy fire'. So, holy oil."

"Sounds like," Dean said. "We got some Jesus juice in our luggage. Now we just need something to see through."

"Glasses?" Harry suggested. He removed his own and held them out.

"Thanks, Harry," Sam said, "but we should find some that aren't being used."

"Check with Filch. Bet you he's got some in his office."

"Thanks again."

Filch, it turned out, had a trove of confiscated spectacles that ranged from the most luridly decorated items (feathers, jewels, What Sam suspected was the dried feet of a frog) to simple, glass-less frames. They were forced to be content with three of the least extravagant pairs, of which two had lenses that changed depending on the wearer's mood and the other had a tiny owl perched between the eyes.

Kevin wanted no part of the hunt, and Meg was unable to leave the castle. Therefore, it was a thickly bundled Sam and Dean, and a normally-clad Castiel, who tromped down the grounds towards Hagrid's cabin at noon on the first of the school holidays. With most of the student body having departed, the Winchesters thought it less likely someone would question their sudden desire to go deep into the Forbidden Forest.

"Yer not dressed prop'rly," a stern Hagrid told Castiel.

"I'm fine," the angel stated.

When the groundskeeper glanced at the brothers for support all he got was exasperated resignation. "Well, don't be complainin' when yer shiverin'." The extraordinarily large man looked up, shading his eyes against the glare. "Sun's almost down. Good'a time as any t'be headin' in that direction. Now, ye promise me ye'll just be killin' one?"

Dean opened his mouth, ostensibly to make some pithy remark about Hagrid's overprotectiveness towards the hellhounds, and was cut off by Sam. "One," he said quickly. "Only one. Promise."

"Right." The groundskeeper turned. "Let's go."

Acknowledgement : Some lines of dialogue are taken directly from the episodes "Trial and Error (SPN 8.14) and "Goodbye, Stranger" (SPN 8.17).

Author's Note : So I ship Megstiel. Sorry, not sorry ;) It would have been fascinating to see that relationship develop. Here's hoping for a cure one day for multiple sclerosis.