The Dream

Dean kept his promise and stayed up all night with Cas. Neither of them spoke much, instead listening to the others try and work out what had happened to Barty Crouch. Dean often found himself staring at Cas intently. He had almost got something out of him. Almost. It would be impossible to pick up the conversation now, especially with so many people still sitting in the common room. To Dean's surprise, Cas dozed off a little just before dawn, though Cas seemed just as surprised when he jolted awake after an hour or so.

As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, Harry, Ron and Hermione hurried off to the owlery to send Sirius a letter.

Sherlock was still pacing, and John sprawled across one of the sofas.

'What are we missing here?' Sherlock said irritably.

'I don't know, you're the smart one,' John sighed.

'You're the one with the visions.'

John pushed himself up onto his elbows. 'Sherlock, you're literally magically linked to me because I'm not smart enough to interpret my own visions.'

'He's got a point,' Dean called from his corner of the room.

'Didn't ask, thank you.'

Cas got to his feet, groaning.

'Where are you going?' Dean asked.

'I want to check in with Madam Pomfrey before breakfast. See you down there?'

'Oh, you're coming down to breakfast?'

Cas nodded.

'Okay, sure. See you later.'

Cas left through the portrait hole, stretching his long limbs as he went.

As soon as he was gone, Dean jumped up and hurried over to John and Sherlock.

'He almost told me,' he hissed. 'He was so close but then Viktor got attacked.'

'Told you what?

'You know, what his deal is.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes. He talks to me… Maybe he still wants to tell me. If I try to get him alone again… '

'That definitely won't creep him out.'

'You got any better ideas?'

'It won't work,' Sherlock said quietly. 'You caught him off guard once. It won't happen again.'

'Oh, you know that, do you?' Dean scoffed.

'I do know that,' said Sherlock, narrowing his eyes. 'I know Castiel very well. Whatever this is, he's working very hard to keep it a secret. I don't even know what it is, and it's difficult to keep things from me.'

'Wow, get a load of Mr Humble over here.'

'He had a moment of weakness,' Sherlock continued firmly. 'He won't allow himself that again. You missed your chance.'

'What, so I'm supposed to just give up?'

'Of course not. You just need to be smarter in your approach. I still think I should look through his things-'

'Nope,' John interrupted.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'It might be the only way to find out what's going on.'

'But if he catches you, he'll never trust us again, and we might as well not bother anyway.'

'He wouldn't catch me,' Sherlock muttered.

'Right, I forgot you're a master of stealth.'

'You guys are no help at all, you know that?'

'Tell me something I don't know,' John grumbled, sitting up. 'You think breakfast has started yet? I'm starving.'

Dean shrugged. 'Only one way to find out.'

They wandered down to breakfast, stretching and yawning. Food had only just begun to appear, making the tables look bare.

Dean poured himself a goblet of orange juice in an attempt to keep himself awake.

Eventually, the tables were filled, and Cas finally entered the Hall, scouring the ceiling before crossing the threshold. He carefully sat himself down next to Dean, and slowly helped himself to cereal.

'Y'all right?' Dean said, chewing on a slice of toast.

Cas nodded, his eyes sweeping the ceiling, which he did every few minutes for the rest of the meal. He flinched when the owls poured into the room, and tensed when some of them soared in their direction, but with Hermione not around, none of them dropped any Howlers.

The last owl fluttered out, and Cas let out the breath he had been holding. He spooned some cereal into his mouth and noticed Dean staring at him fondly. 'What?'

'Nothing,' Dean shrugged, going back to his own breakfast.

Gabriel caught his eye from the Hufflepuff table and gave him a double thumbs up, earning an exasperated shake of the head from Cas.

Lessons that day were difficult for all of them, with even Hermione's attention wavering in History of Magic.

John flat out fell asleep in Defense Against the Dark Arts, nearly slipping out of his seat when Moody barked, 'Constant Vigilance!'

Harry, Ron and Hermione hung around at break to talk to Moody, and see if he had found Mr Crouch.

'No,' said Moody, taking a swig from his flask. 'Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned the map from my office into the Forest. He wasn't anywhere on there.'

John's head lolled slightly where he was still sitting at his desk, and Ron and Hermione's bickering took on a muffled quality. He stayed awake, however, as Moody's magical eye fixed on him and held him in place, while his regular eye watched Harry, Ron and Hermione.

'See anything, Watson?' Moody asked eventually, interrupting Hermione and Ron's arguing.

John shook his head, trying to force his eyes remain open, though it felt like a losing battle.

'I know you lot fancy yourselves investigators, but there's nothing you can do for Crouch now. The Ministry'll be looking for him now, and you should be keeping your minds on the third task. Should be right up your street, this one,' Moody said, scratching his stubbly chin. 'From what Dumbledore said, you've managed to get through stuff like this plenty of times. Broke your way through a series of obstacles guarding the Philosopher's Stone in your first year, didn't you?'

'We helped,' Ron said quickly.

Moody grinned. 'Well, help him practise for this one. Grab a Winchester or two, and I'll be very surprised if he doesn't win,' he said. 'Might be better to get some rest first,' he added, looking at John. 'In the meantime… constant vigilance, Potter. Constant vigilance…'

When John finally got to bed that night, his head was thick with fog and anything anyone said to him sounded garbled. Even lying down, he felt as though he were spinning. Only Sherlock's cool fingers on his face made him feel better, and he kissed them as he fell asleep.

By Monday morning, Dean was fidgeting in his seat excitedly, running through his favourite spells in his head.

'Can I come too?' Cas asked. His wariness of owls had lessened somewhat over the weekend, but his eyes still flickered upwards every so often.

'Uh, are you sure you want to?'

'It's defensive magic, right? That could be useful.'

'Right, but it would offensive magic too. Would you be okay with that?'

Cas thought about it for a minute. 'Yes,' he said finally. 'I trust you.'

Dean smiled, his cheeks warming. 'All right then, we're meeting in McGonagall's classroom at lunch. But remember, it's okay if you change your mind. I get it.'

'I'll see you there, Dean.'

Dean was first to the classroom, and was setting up the cushions he'd borrowed from Professor Flitwick. Cas and Sherlock arrived shortly after, and the Gryffindors after them.

'Okay, we're gonna start with the basic Shield Charm, and then if we have time, I'll show you the Stunner.'

Castiel sat quietly at the back of the classroom, sitting on a table with his legs crossed and watching carefully. Dean never asked him to participate, which he was grateful for when they began practising Stunning each other. He did practice the Shield Charm a couple of times, muttering, 'Protego,' under his breath. He couldn't see the shield he had produced, but he felt safer behind it.

'I think that's enough for today,' Dean said near the end of lunch, hauling Ron to his feet.

Hermione was scanning through a book and showed it to Dean. 'What about this one?'

'Oh, the Impediment Jinx? Yeah, that can be useful. I'll show it to you tomorrow.'

As they were leaving, Ron aimed his wand at Dean and whispered, 'Stupefy', but the spell bounced off an invisible barrier.

'Nice try,' Dean grinned. 'You gotta be quicker than that.'

Ron scowled, and moved out of the room.

Dean hung back a little with Cas. 'Are you okay?' he asked once the others had gone.

'Yes, thank you.' He gave Dean a genuine smile. 'The Shield Charm is very useful.'

'I thought you might like that one,' Dean grinned. 'What class do you have next? I'll walk you.' He moved slightly too close to Cas and a shock jolted up his side. 'Ouch!' he yelped, jumping away.

'Sorry.'

Dean rubbed his arm and grinned again. 'No, no, I like it. Shield Charm. Good idea.'

Cas suddenly looked uncertain. 'You don't think it's… odd?'

Dean shrugged. 'Not at all, so long as it helps you. Come on, I'll take you to class.'

Sherlock stopped John just outside the classroom. 'Divination now?' he asked.

John nodded, stepping closer to Sherlock.

'I can come with you, if you'd like,' he murmured.

John chuckled. 'You hated Divination. You should go to Herbology.'

'I don't want to go to Herbology,' Sherlock said, kissing John.

'You don't want to go to Divination either.' John felt a playfulness in the back of his mind from Sherlock. 'I'm not going to skip Divination.'

Sherlock groaned, holding John's hands. 'You're never any fun. What's the harm, you hate Divination too.'

'I need Divination.'

Sherlock sighed and cupped John's cheek. 'You don't need Divination. You need confidence.'

'Well, until I can get some of that…' He stood on his toes and kissed Sherlock, then stepped back. 'Have fun in Herbology.'

John walked to Divination with a smile on his face, and not even Ron's complaining could ruin his mood.

Trelawney's dimly lit room was swelteringly hot, but the perfume cleared John's head as he sat down.

'My dears,' said Trelawney, sitting down in her winged armchair in the front of the class, 'we have almost finished our work on planetary divination. Today, however, will be an excellent opportunity to examine the effects of Mars, for he is placed most interestingly at the present time. If you will all look this way, I will dim the lights…'

John's stomach sank at the mention of Mars, and the constellation Sagittarius flashed through his head.

Trelawney waved her wand and the lamps went out. She bent down and lifted up a miniature model of the solar system, contained within a glass dome. It was a beautiful thing; each of the moons glimmered in place around the nine planets and the fiery sun, all of them hanging in thin air beneath the glass.

John sat uncomfortably as he stared at the model. He could feel it coming, but allowed it to wash over him. Trelawney's classroom was one of the few places he felt comfortable having visions, but he could already tell that this one was big.

Sagittarius reappeared, but was almost fully obscured by Mars growing larger and larger. He felt a slight shock up his arm, and saw Sherlock stumble into Cas's Shield Charm in Herbology, but then everything went dark, with a slight orange flicker.

Everything was blurry, and John couldn't focus, but the area seemed familiar. Shadows and shapes flickered around them, and he realised that they were people running. Running away from flashes of light, it seemed. Spells perhaps.

He turned around to try and get a better idea of where he was, and realised with a sickening lurch in his stomach that he was in the Great Hall, only that it had been completely destroyed. A portion of the ceiling had collapsed, and through it, John could see the Dark Mark glittering overhead. He shuddered violently, and the vision wavered, but didn't break.

Two people caught his attention, running through the wreckage. They were slightly less blurry than everyone else, and as John got near them, he recognised them.

It was Sherlock, and himself, only they were older. Sherlock was taller, and his hair had regrown over his face. Both of them were searching for something, but John couldn't tell what.

Suddenly, both of their heads snapped towards the entrance to the Hall, or what remained of it.

John turned too and saw someone standing there, but he couldn't tell who. They raised their wand, and before any of them could react, a jet of light flew towards them and blasted Sherlock.

'SHERLOCK!' John yelled, his present and future voices reverberating through him, and sending him back to Trelawney's classroom.

He was breathing heavily and shaking, but no one seemed to notice him, as they were all too distracted by Harry rolling around on the floor, clutching his forehead. Ron was kneeling next to Harry, so John joined him.

'Can you do something?' Ron asked him.

'Like what?' John said incredulously. 'This seems like more of a job for Cas to me.'

Cas wants you to see if you can feel what he's feeling

John winced as Sherlock's words clanged around his head.

You can do it with letters

'All right, all right, just stop,' John muttered, then grabbed Harry's arm. He was immediately thrown back by the pain in Harry's head. 'It's coming from his scar, I think.'

'Harry!' Ron called, trying to snap him out of it. 'Harry!'

Harry opened his eyes.

'You all right?' Ron said.

'Of course he isn't!' said Trelawney, looking thoroughly excited. 'What was it, Potter? A premonition? An apparition? What did you see?'

'Nothing,' said Harry, sitting up and looking around.

'You were clutching your scar!' said Trelawney. 'You were rolling on the floor, clutching your scar! Come now, Potter, I have experience in these matters!'

'I need to go to the hospital wing, I think,' Harry said. 'Bad headache.'

'My dear, you were undoubtedly stimulated by the extraordinary clairvoyant vibrations of my room! If you leave now, you may lose the opportunity to see further than you have ever-'

'The only thing I want to see is a headache cure,' said Harry.

'I'll go with you,' John said, standing up with him.

'But-'

'I'll go with you,' John repeated firmly.

They grabbed their bags and hurried through the trapdoor.

At the bottom of the ladder, John stopped and leaned against the cool stone wall for a moment, disturbed by what he had seen. 'What did you see?' John asked Harry.

'We should go to Dumbledore,' Harry said, avoiding the question.

John nodded. 'Yeah, I think that's a good idea.'

Sherlock repeated the question in John's head. What did you see?

I don't know, John replied.

He followed Harry's lead distractedly. He couldn't get the image of Sherlock flying across the Great Hall out of his head, and he was disturbed by the desperation pressing in on him from the vision, even now.

They arrived at the huge stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, and Harry stared at it blankly.

'Cockroach Cluster,' John said, taking one look at it.

Harry looked as though he wanted to ask John how he'd known, but seemed to think better of it.

The gargoyle sprang to life, and jumped aside.

They hurried up the spiral staircase behind the gargoyle, to Dumbledore's polished oak door and brass knocker.

They heard voices inside as they approached the door and hesitated, listening.

'Dumbledore, I'm afraid I don't see the connection, don't see it at all!' It was the voice of the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge. 'Ludo says Bertha's perfectly capable of getting herself lost.'

The same vision of Bertha Jorkins rolled past John, and he whimpered quietly.

'I agree we would have expected to find her by now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play, Dumbledore, none at all. As for her disappearance linked with Barty Crouch's!'

John's ears pricked up, but he couldn't help but feel that Sherlock would find better opportunity in eavesdropping on top secret Ministry business.

'And what do you think's happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?' said Moody's growling voice.

'I see two possibilities, Alastor,' said Fudge. 'Either Crouch has finally cracked - more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree, given his personal history - lost his mind and gone off wandering somewhere-'

'He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius?' said Dumbledore calmly.

'Or else - well…' Fudge sounded embarrassed. 'Well, I'll reserve judgement until after I've seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage? Dumbledore, you know what that woman is?'

'I consider her to be a very able Headmistress - and an excellent dancer,' said Dumbledore.

'Come, Dumbledore!' Fudge said angrily. 'Don't you think you might be prejudiced in her favour because of Hagrid? They don't all turn out harmless - if, indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless, with that monster fixation he's got-'

'I no more suspect Madame Maxime than Hagrid,' said Dumbledore. 'I think it is possible that it is you who are prejudiced, Cornelius.'

'Can we wrap up this discussion?' growled Moody.

'Yes, yes, let's go down into the grounds, then,' Fudge said impatiently.

'No, it's not that,' said Moody, 'it's just that Potter and Watson want a word with you, Dumbledore. They're just outside the door.'

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