Rita Skeeter's Scoop

Ron and Hermione had calmed down by the next day, reaching an unspoken agreement not to talk about their argument, when Harry and Ron told the rest of them that they had overheard Hagrid telling Madame Maxime that he was half giant.

'So what?' John said. 'I thought that was fairly obvious.'

'Giants aren't known for their gentle natures,' Sherlock said.

Their fingers and legs were entangled, sitting on the sofa together. John's heart was light in his chest, and he couldn't stop smiling. Sherlock managed to resist, but John could tell he was struggling to keep a straight face.

'And? Anyone who knows Hagrid knows he isn't dangerous. It's the same sort of nonsense they spout about Muggle-borns, isn't it?'

'You've never met a giant.'

'Oh, so you have?'

Sherlock didn't say anything, and John laughed at him.

'Has anyone seen Cas?' Dean asked, only having been half listening.

'No, why?' John said.

Dean shrugged. 'I just need to talk to him, that's all.'

But he couldn't find Cas for the rest of the holidays. He wasn't in the hospital wing any of the times Dean visited, nor out in the grounds, and Dean had the sneaking suspicion that Cas was avoiding him on purpose. He was the only one not doing homework after everyone else had already settled down to do theirs, instead spending most of his time wandering around aimlessly.

On the first day back, the Gryffindors spent Herbology dreading Care of Magical Creatures. It was gloomy and cold outside, and no one felt like trying to corral angry Skrewts around. When they arrived at Hagrid's hut, however, they found an elderly witch with close-cropped, grey hair standing in front of his door.

'Who're you?' Ron asked. 'Where's Hagrid?'

'My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank,' she said briskly. 'I will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures temporarily.'

'Where's Hagrid?' Harry repeated loudly.

'He is indisposed,' she said softly.

A soft, unpleasant laughter reached their ears. Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins had arrived. They all looked gleeful, and John's heart sank when none of them looked surprised to see Professor Grubbly-Plank. Rita Skeeter's face flashed before his eyes and he groaned, stumbling slightly.

'This way, please,' Professor Grubbly-Plank said, leading them away from Hagrid's hut and past the Beauxbatons carriage. She brought them right up to the edge of the Forest, where a unicorn was tethered to a tree. It was huge, beautiful, and so brilliantly white that it made the snow around it look grey.

'It's so beautiful,' Lavender Brown whispered. 'How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch.'

It pawed the ground nervously with its golden hooves, and tossed its horned head.

'Boys keep back!' Professor Grubbly-Plank barked. 'Unicorns prefer a woman's touch. Girls to the front, and approach with care.'

She carefully walked forward with the girls.

John glanced at Malfoy while he was distracted, and saw a copy of the Daily Prophet in his hands. 'Accio,' he whispered. The paper flew out of his hands, and John caught it and hid it before Malfoy saw where it went. 'Hey,' he whispered, beckoning to Harry and Ron. They closed either side of him so no one else could see what they were doing.

DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE

Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anyone who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly, when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.

Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of Gamekeeper at the school ever since, a position secured for his by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the Headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.

An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his new-found authority to terrify students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind-eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons which many admit to be 'very frightening'.

'I was attacked by a Hippogriff, and my friend, Vincent Crabbe, got a bad bite off a Flobberworm,' says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. 'We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything.'

Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed 'Blast-Ended Skrewts', highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, it seems, considers himself above such petty restrictions.

'I was just having some fun,' he says, before hastily changing the subject..

As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended - a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.

Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of near-extinction by warring among themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He Who Must Not Be Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror.

While many of the giants who served He Who Must Not Be Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.

In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with a group of delinquents. Harry Potter, who flouts school rules and frequently defends Hagrid's dangerous behaviour; John Watson, the young Seer who, along with his close friend Sherlock Holmes, have begun to show worrying signs of deviancy, and following Potter's lead in ignoring the rules; and Castiel Edlund, the younger brother of the reported Dark witch, Lucy Edlund.

Perhaps dangerous people group together, or perhaps Hagrid is leading their impressionable, young minds astray.

Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.

Once he was finished reading, John looked up at Ron and Harry. Ron's mouth was hanging open, but Harry whirled around, stomping over to Malfoy.

John was strangely calm, folding up the paper. He could feel Sherlock's discomfort in the back of his mind, and realised that something was happening to him. He looked over at the group of girls, and locked eyes with the unicorn. It tossed its head again, and slowly walked towards him. The girls parted for it.

'Move back,' he said to the other boys, interrupting their argument. 'Get out of the way.'

They did as he said, stepping away the closer the unicorn got.

He held a shaking hand out as it approached. It skittered nervously, but then pushed forwards, against its fears. John gasped as it placed its nose under his trembling fingers.

It was the softest thing he had ever felt, and the warmth radiating from it warmed his whole body.

A sense of urgency pushed through his fingers.

'What is it?' he whispered to it. 'Show me.' He closed his eyes, waiting.

Soon, hundreds of images flashed through him, mostly of the Forest, and a sense of foreboding at the edges. A cloaked figure, mouth dripping with unicorn blood. 'I remember,' he murmured. 'You're afraid of him.'

Many dead unicorns flashed before his eyes, each one drained of blood.

'I know.'

Then an image of the castle, and another figure walking towards it. 'His follower is here?'

Unicorns whinnying and screaming filled his ears, and he gritted his teeth, trying not to scare the unicorn. 'You're worried he'll come back. You want me to stop him.'

Then the screams died away, and a slightly fuzzy image of many unicorns grazing appeared, along with a calmness, and a faint imprint of John walking with them. 'I understand,' he murmured. 'I'll do my best.'

The unicorn snorted and shook its head, letting John's hand drop. It trotted back to the girls, and the cold crept back into John's limbs. He was suddenly exhausted. 'Oh, sitting down,' he mumbled, dropping to the floor with a thump. His vision cleared, and Harry and Ron were crouching beside him.

'You all right, mate?' Ron asked.

'Fine,' John said, laying on his back.

'You're sort of lying in the snow,' Harry pointed out.

'It's comfy.' John heard his own words as if they had come from very far away. 'I think I need to sleep.'

'Probably not in the snow, though.'

'Yeah… I don't think I can get up though.'

Just then, Professor Grubbly-Plank appeared in his dim field of vision, and pulled him to his feet. She was surprisingly strong, and as soon as John was up, Harry and Ron moved to support him.

'How did you do that?' Professor Grubbly-Plank asked him.

'What?'

'How did you get the unicorn to trust you?'

John squinted at her, then laughed giddily.

'I don't think he's very well, Professor,' Harry said.

'Best get him upstairs, then. Off you go.'

They helped him back up to the castle, but by the time they got to the steps, he was feeling far more substantial. 'Let's just go up to the common room,' he said. 'No reason to bother Madam Pomfrey, right?'

Harry and Ron agreed, and they all trudged slowly up the marble staircase.

Dean was already in there, alone, pacing by the fireplace. He looked up in surprise when they came in through the portrait hole.

'What's going on?' he asked.

John shrugged, and collapsed onto the sofa, and Harry passed him the copy of the paper.

Dean quickly scanned through it, forehead crinkling as he read through. 'This is crap!' he said furiously. 'I'm not even mentioned, and I'm definitely a delinquent.' He read the last paragraph again and sighed. 'You don't suppose Cas has seen this, do you? I can't find him anywhere.'

John groaned into the sofa cushions, and pushed himself back up again. He closed his eyes and searched through the castle for Sherlock. It was almost instantaneous this time, not like before when he painstakingly groped for Sherlock.

'Seen Cas?' he asked, slurring his words slightly.

'He's here.' Sherlock showed him the back of Castiel's head and a vague impression of the dungeons. 'He isn't speaking to me.'

John let the connection go. 'He's in lessons,' he said to Dean. 'Potions, I think.'

'You're getting good at that,' Dean said, impressed.

'Mmhmm.' He promptly fell asleep, before Dean had even crossed the common room.

'See you guys later,' Dean said, dashing out of the portrait hole.

He descended the stairs two at a time, reaching the dungeons just before the bell rang, breathless and clutching a stitch in his side.

The door opened, and Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students all streamed out. Dean saw Cas slip through the door among a group of Hufflepuffs. 'Cas!' he called, but Cas ignored him. 'Cas, wait!' but it was no use. Cas disappeared down the corridor. Dean tried to follow him, but lost sight of him through the crowds of students in the Entrance Hall.

'What do you think's up with him?' Dean asked Sherlock, who stood beside him.

'It might have something to do with what he told you at Christmas,' Sherlock murmured.

'You heard that, huh?'

'Not on purpose.'

Dean glanced at Sherlock, whose eyes were half closed. 'What's up with you?' he asked.

Sherlock shook his head. 'Nothing.'

'Probably just need a nap, or something.'

Sherlock nodded vaguely.

'John's asleep on the couch in our common room.'

'I know.'

'You're so weird.'

Sherlock sighed and walked off, making his way up to Gryffindor Tower.

There was a Hogsmeade visit half way through January. Neither Hagrid nor Castiel had emerged from their hiding places. Dean met up with the Gryffindors and Sherlock just outside the Entrance Hall.

'No Cas?' he said when Sherlock arrived, who shook his head. 'All right, that's it. You guys go without me.' There was still one place Dean hadn't looked.

Once the others had gone, Dean ran back up to his dormitory and dragged his trunk out from under the bed. He dug through its contents, and eventually pulled out two packages wrapped in crinkled brown paper. He tucked them under his arm and made his way down the stairs. He stopped at the portrait of the silver swan, and went past it, turning into yet another staircase. He went up, walking in dizzyingly tight circles until he reached a door. There was no lock or handle, only an expanse of aged wood, and a bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. Dean stared at it, perplexed. Dean reached out for the knocker, supposing that someone inside must have to let him in, and knocked.

The eagle opened its beak and, instead of birdsong, a soft, musical voice spoke. 'Why is a raven like a writing desk?'

'What?' Dean stared at it, but it didn't repeat itself, nor did it move again. 'Uh, okay, do I have to answer?'

It remained silent.

Dean thought about the question. 'Oh, wait, I know this one!' he said, clicking his fingers. 'It's a fake riddle, Lewis Carroll never wrote an answer.'

'Technically correct,' the voice said.

'The best kind of correct,' Dean grinned.

The door swung open, though Dean got the impression that it wasn't happy about it.

The Ravenclaw common room was a wide, circular room, with an airy, high ceiling. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue and bronze silks. The windows gave a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. Stars painted the ceiling, and the midnight-blue carpet. There were tables, chairs and bookcases, and in a niche opposite the door stood a tall statue of white marble.

'Whoa,' Dean murmured, looking around in awe. He slowly crept over to the marble woman. She was beautiful, yet slightly intimidating, wearing a delicate tiara on her head. There were tiny words on it, and Dean stepped onto the plinth to read it. '"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure", so you must be Rowena Ravenclaw.'

'What are you doing in here?'

Dean jumped, and stumbled off the plinth. He turned around and saw one of the Ravenclaw Prefects glaring at him.

'What are you doing in here?' she repeated.

'Which way is it to the dorms?' Dean said.

'Why?'

'I'm looking for Castiel, have you seen him?'

The girl looked him up and down, then nodded towards the door next to the statue of Ravenclaw. 'Through there, up the stairs, then through the door on the right.'

'Thank you,' Dean said. He followed her instructions and eventually found another door with Fourth-Years written on it. He took a deep breath and went in.

Cas was sitting on the bed closest to the door, leaning against the headboard, reading a book. His sleeves were rolled up and Dean briefly glimpsed his scars before he hastily rolled them down.

'Dean!' he gasped. 'How did you get in here?'

'Your door is lame. It just tells riddles, you guys don't even have a password.' Dean laughed nervously, but it had no effect.

'Why are you here?'

'Well, you've been avoiding me, and you haven't even let me give you your Christmas present yet.'

'You could have sent it by owl,' Cas grumbled, but he moved until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, with room for Dean to sit beside him.

'Here.' Dean gave him one of the parcels. A long, thin one.

Cas unwrapped it carefully, to reveal a slim, black box. He opened it, and his eyes widened. 'Dean…' He lifted out a thin, silver necklace, that was almost identical to the one he used to wear.

'You used yours to save me. I figured I owed you a new one. I know it's not the same,' Dean stammered. 'I only saw it once, but-'

'It's beautiful,' Cas interrupted, clasping it around his neck and tucking it down the front of his robes. 'Thank you.'

Dean nodded. 'Sorry it's late. It wasn't ready in time for Christmas Day.' He still had another parcel sitting in his lap, his palms clamped around it began to sweat, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. 'This one's not really a Christmas present, I - I just thought - you should have it.'

Cas gently took it from his hands and unwrapped it with the same care as he had the other one. He saw the frame first, a thin silver one, backed with velvet, but then he saw the photograph inside and his face went slack.

'I remembered Bagman saying that he knew your mom, so I sent him an owl and asked if he had any pictures,' Dean said, his nerves clear in his voice.

Cas just continued to stare at the photo.

She was smiling widely, dressed in long blue robes at what looked like a Christmas party. Her long, dark hair was tied up and styled in loose curls, and she toasted her glass towards the camera.

'She's gorgeous,' Dean said. 'You look just like her.'

Cas nodded, then suddenly let out a huge sob.

'Cas…'

'M-m-my father took away all the pictures of her when she… I haven't seen her in so long.'

'Oh, Cas, I had no idea.'

Cas covered his mouth with one hand, trying to muffle his sobbing.

Dean put an arm around him, and could have sworn that Cas leaned into him before shrugging his arm off. He waited for Cas's crying to subside. 'Seems like you needed to let that out.'

Cas nodded again, sniffling, and wiping his face with the sleeve of his robes. 'Sorry.'

'Don't be.' Dean took a deep breath. 'Listen, I know it was hard to tell me that - what you told me, but I want you to know it's okay. Does anyone else know?'

'Hermione,' Cas mumbled. 'We both had a crush on Professor Lockhart.'

'Lockhart?' Dean asked, forcing himself not to laugh. 'That's not the worst first crush I've ever heard… It's pretty bad though.'

Cas chuckled weakly.

'Anyone else?'

'Gabriel. And Sherlock, probably.'

'Have you always known?'

Cas nodded.

'So… you're - you know - and a wizard, and Christian? How do you deal with that?'

Cas looked at him curiously. 'It's… difficult, but not impossible. I just have to believe that God made me this way for a reason, and He loves me the way I am.'

'Have you ever had a crush on anyone else? Apart from Lockhart, I mean.'

Cas's lip twitched as he considered it for a second. 'No,' he said.

'Maybe you just haven't had the chance, seeing as you've had to hide for so long.'

Cas bit his lip. 'I - I don't know, Dean, you don't understand-'

'Maybe I do.'

Dean was just as surprised as Cas was, Cas's eyebrows shooting up. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then sucked in a breath. It was too late to go back.

'Dean, are you-?'

'Yeah, I mean, I still like girls too, but yeah.'

Cas squinted at him. 'So you're bisexual, then?'

Dean gave him a confused look. 'You're a pure-blood wizard who literally lives on a mountain, how do you know that word?'

Cas finally smiled properly. 'Gabriel used to sneak me out of the house and take me to the Muggle library when I was young. I learned a lot of things. Did you know they can get to the moon, Dean?'

'I - yeah, I knew that,' Dean said, smiling despite himself. 'And I think you should have a long conversation with Arthur Weasley, but that's not what we were talking about… I'll just… add that to the list of things I didn't know you were in to.'

'Of course… Have you told anyone else?'

'Nope… just you,' Dean said, heart fluttering.

'I'm honoured. Not even Sam?'

Dean shook his head. 'I thought it would go away, at first. I tried to make it go away, but that didn't work either.'

'What did you do?' Cas asked, suddenly concerned.

'Nothing serious, don't worry,' Dean said. 'I just used to let Fred and George test their love potions on me.'

Cas scowled.

'I don't any more,' Dean said hurriedly. 'It's just tough, you know? You just sort feel like…' Dean looked around, hoping the right words would hit him.

'Like you're hiding part of yourself,' Cas said quietly. 'And you can't let it out.'

'Yeah. Exactly.' Dean smiled at him, and squeezed his knee. 'I think our friends would be okay with it. John and Sherlock for sure.'

'I- I think they would be too, I'm - I'm just not ready-'

'That's okay. Me neither.'

'Just us, then?'

'Yeah, just us.' Dean sat quietly, looking out of the window opposite Cas's bed. 'It's nice in here,' he said. 'I don't know why you'd spend so much time in our common room if yours is as nice as this.'

Cas merely shrugged.

'You know,' he ventured, 'you can talk to me about it, if you need to. I'd rather you talked to me than hid up here. Madam Pomfrey misses you.'

'Okay, I'll try that next time,' Cas said. 'Besides, I can't really hide from you up here anymore, anyway.'

Dean snorted. 'What do you say, then, do you want to come to Hogsmeade?'

Cas crossed his legs, and shook his head. 'I don't really feel like it.'

'Okay, what about Hagrid's then? You can help me get him to come out.'

Cas sighed. 'All right. Hagrid's.' He reluctantly put the photograph of his mother down on his bedside table, and stood up. Dean pretended not to notice his shaking knees and walked down the stairs with him. 'Thank you for my gifts, Dean,' Cas murmured once they'd left Ravenclaw Tower.

'Don't mention it,' Dean grinned.

They made their way down to Hagrid's hut, and Dean watched Cas gaze around the grounds. 'Maybe it doesn't mean much coming from me, I mean, I'm not all that religious, but I think God loves you.'

Cas stopped in his tracks. 'Do you really think so?'

'Absolutely. You love all of God's creations, right? You love nature, you love animals. Most people too. That's what He wants, right? In my opinion, anyway.' Before he could react, Cas had thrown his arms around Dean's neck, squeezing him tightly.

'It means everything coming from you, Dean,' he whispered into Dean's shoulder. 'Thank you.'

Dean's hands awkwardly hovered for a moment, before wrapping themselves around Cas's skinny frame, and he realised that Cas was standing on his toes to do so. He reluctantly let go when he felt Cas take a small step backwards, and cleared his throat. 'Hagrid's?' he said, a little too brightly.

They turned back towards Hagrid's hut, but saw Hermione flying across the grounds, followed by Harry and Ron. They hurried over, just as Hermione began pounding on the door. The curtains were still closed, but they could hear Fang's barking booming from inside.

'Hagrid!' Hermione shouted. 'Hagrid, that's enough! We know you're in there! No one cares that your mum was a giantess, Hagrid! You can't let this foul Skeeter woman do this to you! Hagrid, get out here, you're being-'

The door opened, and they found themselves face to face, not with Hagrid, but with Dumbledore.

'Good afternoon,' he said pleasantly, smiling down at them.

'We - er - we wanted to see Hagrid,' Hermione said in a small voice.

'Yes, I surmised as much,' said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. 'Why don't you come in?'

'Oh… erm… okay.'

They all went into the cabin, Fang launching himself at Harry the moment they entered.

Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. His face was blotchy and his eyes were swollen.

Cas immediately drew a chair up next to Hagrid and put a comforting hand on his huge arm.

'More tea, I think,' Dumbledore said, closing the front door. He waved his wand, and a tray appeared in the air, with mugs for all of them, a steaming teapot, and a couple of containers for sugar and milk. He waved his wand again and it set itself down on the table, prompting everyone to take seats. There was a slight pause, then Dumbledore said, 'Did you by any chance hear what Miss Granger was shouting, Hagrid?'

Hermione turned pink, but Dumbledore smiled at her and continued. 'It seems that Hermione and these boys all still want to know you, judging by the way they were attempting to break down the door.'

'Of course we still want to know you!' Harry said, staring at Hagrid. 'You don't think anything that Skeeter cow- sorry, Professor,' he added quickly, looking at Dumbledore.

'I have gone temporarily deaf and haven't any idea what you said, Harry,' Dumbledore said, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.

'Er - right,' Harry said sheepishly. 'I just meant - Hagrid,, how can you think that we'd care what that - woman - wrote about you?'

'Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid,' said Dumbledore. 'I have shown you letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that, if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it-'

'Not all of 'em,' Hagrid said hoarsely. 'Not all of 'em wan' me ter stay.'

'Really, Hagrid, if you're holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a long time,' said Dumbledore, now peering over his half-moon spectacles sternly. 'Not a week has passed, since I became Headmaster of this school, when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?'

Dean caught Cas's eye, who looked away.

'Yeh- yeh're not half-giant,' Hagrid said croakily.

'Hagrid, look what I've got for relatives!' Harry said furiously.

'My sister…' Cas added, trailing off distractedly.

'An excellent point,' said Dumbledore. 'My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat. It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery…'

'Come back and teach, Hagrid,' Hermione said, 'please come back, we really miss you.'

Dumbledore stood up. 'I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect to see you back at work on Monday,' he said. 'You will join me for breakfast at eight thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all.'

Dumbledore left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fang's ears. When the door shut behind him, Hagrid began to cry into his hands.

Cas was patting him on the arm, but Dean noticed that the colour had gone from his face, and his eyes had glazed over.

'Cas?' he said.

'Hmm?'

'Are you okay?'

Cas blinked and nodded.

Hagrid then got up to find a picture of his father to show them, and Cas's legs trembled under the table.

'Excuse me,' he said quietly, getting up from the table and letting himself out of the back door.

Dean quickly followed him, and found him throwing up behind the cabin.

'What is it?' Dean said, alarmed. 'Are you sick? Can I help?'

'Damn it,' Cas groaned, clutching his stomach.

'What's wrong? What do you need?'

Cas's breathing began to speed up. 'I need-'

'What? What do you need?'

'Gabriel,' Cas gasped. 'I need Gabriel.'

'Gabriel?' Dean said. 'Isn't there anything I can do?'

'No,' Cas groaned. 'Gabriel.' He threw up again and wrapped his arms tightly around himself, stumbling away from the cabin.

Dean looked around, thinking fast. 'Wait here.' He burst back into the cabin. 'Harry, please say you have the map on you.'

'Yeah, why?' Harry said, pulling it out of his pocket.

'Help me find Gabriel,' he said as Harry opened it.

They all scanned it together, but it was Ron who found him in the greenhouses.

'Thanks,' Dean said, running back out of the cabin. 'He's in the greenhouses,' he told Cas. 'Can you make it?'

Cas looked as if he was straining very hard, but nodded. He didn't talk the whole way across the grounds, but Dean wasn't sure if he even could in this state.

'I'll go get him,' Dean said once they reached the greenhouses. 'You stay here, okay? Remember to breathe like I showed you, to the count of four, all right?'

Cas nodded, almost bent over double, and Dean dashed inside the greenhouse.

Gabriel was in there feeding the bubotubers. 'Dean,' he said, looking up in surprise. 'What's up?'

'Cas,' Dean said breathlessly. 'Something's wrong, I think he's sick.'

Gabriel's face fell, and he immediately threw off his dragonhide gloves, leaving the bubotubers where they were.

Dean lead him out to where he'd left Cas, who had fallen to his knees, his body wracked with tremors..

'Gabriel,' he groaned.

Gabriel tried to get him up.

'I can't,' Cas gasped. 'I can't.'

'You have to,' Gabriel said urgently.

'What is going on?' Dean demanded.

'Not now, Dean,' Gabriel snapped. 'Come on, we've gotta go.'

'I can't,' Cas hissed through his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. 'I won't make it.'

'Make it where?' Dean asked.

Cas shook his head.

Gabriel looked around desperately, but the only buildings close were the greenhouses. 'Okay, we can do this, come on.' He all but dragged Cas inside the greenhouse, and shut Dean outside.

Dean watched as Gabriel sat Cas down, then waved his wand. His lips were moving, but Dean couldn't quite make out what he was saying.

Thick, black smoke poured from Gabriel's wand. It spread through the greenhouse, covering each individual glass pane from the floor to the roof, until he and Cas were completely obscured.

Dean pressed his nose up against the glass, but couldn't see anything through the swirling black fog. He tried the door, but it was locked tight. He stepped back to take in the whole greenhouse. He considered breaking a window, but refrained when he remembered it was the same greenhouse that housed the Venomous Tentacula, so he waited, leaning against the glass.

He didn't know how long he waited for, but eventually, the fog dissipated.

Gabriel and Cas exited, and Dean caught a snippet of their conversation before they saw him still standing there.

'You're not channeling it enough, like Dumbledore told you to,' Gabriel said.

'I can't, I'll hurt someone.'

'You won't hurt someone-'

'Gabriel-' Cas stopped and they both looked at Dean, and Dean at them.

Cas no longer looked strained, but he was still pale and shaking, and Gabriel was supporting him at the waist.

'What's going on?' Dean asked,proffering his arms for Cas to take.

Gabriel didn't say anything. He could no longer deny that something was going on, but when he looked at Cas, Cas shook his head.

'What do you mean "not channeling enough"? Channeling what? How could you hurt someone?'

'He won't hurt anyone,' Gabriel insisted.

'But what does that mean?'

'Gabriel's just being dramatic,' Cas said tiredly.

'But channeling what, though? Are you a Seer, or something, like John?'

'No, I'm not a Seer.'

'Well what, then?'

'He's just sick,' Gabriel said. 'He needs rest, come on, Cas.'

Gabriel lead Cas away, and something about the set of his shoulders told Dean not to follow. Against all of his instincts, Dean forced himself to go up to Gryffindor Tower rather than the hospital wing. He was glad he did, when he found John and Sherlock alone in the common room, kissing on the sofa. 'Okay, can you two stop mackin' on each other for like two seconds, please?' he complained.

'All right, calm down,' John said, raising an eyebrow.

'How are you feeling today?' Dean asked him.

'Can't complain. Why?'

'I need your help. Something's going on with Cas, and he won't tell me. Gabriel just says he's sick, but I think it's something else.'

'Like what?' John asked, he and Sherlock sitting up properly.

'I don't know, but he had an attack of whatever it was just now. Do you think you can look at it?'

John glanced at Sherlock, who shrugged. 'I suppose I could try. Tell me where you were.'

'In the greenhouses. Gabriel conjured this fog, so I couldn't see what was going on, but maybe you can.'

'And this was just now?'

'Yeah.'

'Okay.' John put a hand on Dean's shoulder, and searched for what it was that Dean had seen. To his surprise, he could see it perfectly. He saw the greenhouse fill with smoke, and Dean standing outside. He walked through the glass and, at first, all he could see was more smoke, but then he heard muffled voices. He moved towards them, but suddenly all he could see was a bright, white light, and his ears filled with a high-pitched whine, as though the light itself was making noise. He covered his ears and closed his eyes, but neither action helped at all. The light began to burn, and he remembered Sam telling him about his friend Pamela who had gone blind.

Sherlock yanked him off the sofa and he fell out of the vision and onto the floor. He opened his eyes and was relieved that he could still see, though there were large spots in front of his eyes.

'Oh my God, you're bleeding,' Dean said, his voice slightly muffled.

John flinched as Sherlock pressed a cloth to his ear.

Dean said something else, but John couldn't hear him properly, and he shook his head, trying to clear the ringing in his ears.

'What did you see?' Dean asked again.

'Er… nothing,' John said, confused.

'Nothing?'

'Well, not nothing, just a lot of - white.'

'White? What does that mean?'

'I don't know, Dean, if I knew what every single one of my visions meant, I wouldn't have any problems, would I?' John snapped, rubbing his eyes. 'Great, now I've got a headache.'

'I'm sorry, jeez,' Dean said. 'Looks like I'm just gonna have to use good old detective work. You guys in?'

'Whatever you say, Dean,' Sherlock said irritably, though deep down, he knew he couldn't resist a mystery.

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to DaughterofMagic3, VegasGranny and Morgan Teri Befan for the reviews!

Might have gone slightly overboard with this one, but I hope you all enjoyed it anyway, and I'll see you next time!