Another one for the myriad AUs I've created for my own story! I cannot stop thinking of different ways to put Gabriel and Harry together, it's ridiculous, but I must share.
Again, this is from my journals (mostly) so it's a little disjointed and might end abruptly. The beginning takes place in the graveyard scene from Goblet of Fire, btw!
"There is another power stirring..."
"My Lord?"
"I would not expect you to sense it...something vast and powerful lies at my fingertips, Wormtail. We must prepare."
Harry jolted upright in bed, sweaty, a headache building in his forehead.
That wasn't good.
Harry's heart was pounding in his ears. Voldemort was back, and he had Harry trapped - what else did he want?
Pettigrew was moving around, gathering things Harry couldn't see. He flicked his wand, and a fire bloomed at the edge of Harry's vision.
The very ground underneath them seemed to groan and bend like the universe was - for a second - bent out of shape. It ended as quickly as it had started, but it felt like some ancient thing was yawning open under Harry's feet-
This is new.
Harry would have startled n surprise, but he felt frozen. The entire graveyard seemed to have been struck with some kind of curse. It was too quiet. Nothing - and nobody - moved, Voldemort and the robed Death Eaters standing around like some kind of horror movie that had been paused in the middle of a scene.
What had Voldemort done?
He wanted me. The voice vibrated through Harry down to his bones. It was like someone was talking directly into his mind. Harry, petrified and afraid, managed to be vaguely puzzled by the fact that it had an American accent. He was still mostly terrified.
Aw, don't be like that. I wouldn't give him a thing.
What? How did - what kind of thing had Voldemort summoned?
Would you believe me if I said I didn't want to hurt you?
Harry would have snorted, if he had been able to move. He wasn't an idiot.
He got a distinctly amused impression, from whatever it was that was talking to him, and for a moment he almost thought it was him feeling amused. It was incredibly unsettling.
I wonder if I could ask a favor.
The mysterious voice wanted to ask him for a favor. Harry reflexively rebelled against the idea, memories of Ginny and the memory of Tom Riddle flashing through his mind.
Listen, the voice said, and it wasn't as though Harry could do much else. There was a serious edge to it, though, a forceful command, and Harry's attention sharpened almost unconsciously. I can't stop him from calling me here. It's a miracle I've managed to pause things for so long already. But if I don't have a vessel, it won't matter what I think, none of you will be around long enough to appreciate my intentions.
That sounded ominous. But not, strangely, enough, like a threat - more like a statement of fact.
'Vessel' didn't sound like a threat either, but it didn't sound very nice either. Harry tried to jerk away, which was unsuccessful, because he a) couldn't move and b) had no idea which direction the voice was coming from.
Hey, I get one, no one gets hurt. Not even the guy who volunteers. There was a note of urgency in the voice. I can't control the effect I have without one. I'm asking politely, kid, I can't do anything unless you agree.
That sounded fake. What kind of thing that possessed people asked permission first?
He could at least choose one of the Death Eaters. They deserved possessing.
You're the only one here who'll last long enough. I won't be able to ignore that summoning for much longer, the voice warned, and there was a definite note of strain in it now. What's your answer?
Harry wasn't stupid, but he didn't want to die-
Okay. Fine. He'd probably regret this.
The world unfroze. Harry didn't notice; it felt like a comet was surging into his body, lighting him up from the inside. He would have gasped, but his body didn't seem to be responding to him anymore.
Dazedly, he saw that everyone was looking at him. He felt oddly detached, like he was watching a movie of himself doing things, but from his own perspective.
"At last," Voldemort said, with an air of great satisfaction.
"The fuck does that mean," Harry felt himself say, in an American accent.
Voldemort looked taken aback. The Death Eaters stayed silent behind their masks. Harry felt himself - the voice, except it wasn't just a voice anymore - snap his fingers. The rope binding him to the tombstone fell away, and the thing controlling his body stepped down, sticking Harry's hands into his pockets.
Relax, the American voice said, in the same way it had before - straight into Harry's mind, except now it was already inside - warm and coming from every direction. I got this.
"I mean," the American continued, "you summoned me, sure, but I'm kinda wondering what, exactly, you were expecting." Harry could feel that the American was holding Harry's body differently, but he couldn't have said how without looking in a mirror. "I'll take a wild guess, though, and say you wanted to order me around."
All Harry wanted to do was get out of the graveyard and back to Hogwarts. Surely someone had noticed something was wrong, by now. Harry's head moved to the side, without him meaning to, and he caught a glimpse of Cedric sprawled on the grass.
The thing possessing him seemed to go very cold and stiff, all of the sudden.
"You must obey me," Voldemort said. "I summoned you!"
"Hoo boy, that is so not how this works," said the thing possessing Harry, and ran.
Harry took a moment to realize what was happening. By that time, there were spells flying past, but the thing dodged all of them. He dived towards Cedric, hooked an arm around the dead boy, and held his hand out.
The Portkey came flying towards them-
And then Harry crashed onto the grass of the Quidditch Field and he could feel all his limbs properly again, he hadn't even noticed that, he was gasping as the collision knocked his breath out, and he could move when he wanted to-
"Harry!" Dumbledore's face entered his field of vision.
"He's back," Harry gasped out. "Voldemort's back."
When Harry woke up in the Hospital wing the day after, he was surrounded by people.
The quiet conversation he'd heard cut off quickly as soon as he sat up. Harry was surprised by the amount of people there.
"Remus? What are you-"
"Sirius wanted to come, but Dumbledore didn't want to risk it," Remus said, "so here I am, with strict instructions to tell him everything." He smiled, but it looked forced. "How are you feeling?"
"Er, fine?" Harry glanced around. Ron and Hermione were there, too, and so was Dumbledore - along with someone he didn't recognize. "What's this about?"
"Well I dunno if you remember, mate," Ron said, "but you told us last night you'd gotten possessed, that's not something small."
"Oh."
"This is a friend of mine, Harry," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the robed stranger. "She works in the Department of Mysteries."
"Hello," Harry said. She didn't reply.
"She will be able to ascertain whether or not you're still possessed," Dumbledore explained.
"Is that a possibility? I mean - I'm me again."
"This thing could have only been allowing you control as a cover," the woman said, drawing her wand and approaching Harry's bed. Hermione scooted out of the way, to give her room. "I'm going to need you to tell me everything you remember about it."
When she left, leaving Harry feeling very awkward, Remus said, "That was a very stupid thing to do, Harry."
"What?"
"It was exceptionally dangerous to allow a creature you knew nothing about into your mind."
"Hang on, he said-"
"He might have lied," Remus said, and Harry realized Remus was actually upset with him. "Didn't you think? This is just like what happened with Ginny."
"It is not, Riddle didn't ask permission," Harry said, "and besides, if he was so dangerous why'd he take me back here with - with Cedric's body like I wanted?"
"Anything that depends on another for physical form cannot be trusted," Dumbledore said gravely, "whether or not they ask for permission. A liar may tell truths in order to gain someone's trust."
Harry couldn't argue with that. "He didn't hurt me," he said, in an attempt to have the last word.
"He did," Remus said, looking tired. "Your scar started bleeding, while you were asleep."
Harry's hand automatically went to his forehead. It didn't hurt, when he pressed on it.
"It was real freaky, mate," Ron said, and Hermione nodded in agreement. "You were just lying there, and then Hermione saw you were bleeding, and we couldn't figure out what had happened at first."
Harry lowered his hand slowly. "Well, I promise not to do it again."
"That's not funny," Remus said sharply, and Hermione looked tempted to agree.
"You're really lucky he just left like that," Hermione said. "This entire situation is very odd."
"But he's gone," Harry said. "So, not a problem anymore."
Harry didn't have any reason to doubt that he wasn't possessed any more - nothing out of the ordinary happened all summer, except him getting snubbed by everybody and then attacked by Dementors and nearly expelled. Quite honestly he barely ever thought about it, what with Dumbledore ignoring him and Umbridge teaching Defense.
And then he got detention.
Harry stared at the scratches on the back of his hand, his own handwriting red and bleeding, and then-
"Is there a problem?" Umbridge asked sweetly.
"No," Harry felt himself say, and then the thing in his body dropped the quill and stood up.
"Mr. Potter, sit back down."
"I don't think so," the thing said, in a perfect imitation of Harry's accent.
"Excuse me!"
"What are you going to do?" Harry felt himself straighten defensively, while he tried to take back some semblance of control. "Whatever this is, it seems pretty illegal. Do you want to take this up with Dumbledore and explain that I refused to stick around for your torture sessions?"
"The Minister will-" Umbridge hissed, but the creature cut her off.
"I'm sure." Before Umbridge could say a thing, Harry's body was being turned away, his bag scooped up and whoever was controlling his body was striding purposefully through the hallways, somehow unerringly directing the two of them back to Gryffindor tower.
The creature borrowed Colin Creevey's camera on the way up to the dorms and was fiddling with it when Ron and Hermione came in.
"I have a lot of questions," Ron began.
"Ask someone else," the thing said. It got very quiet. He looked up to see Ron and Hermione both pointing their wands at him."Wow, okay, what a welcome."
"I thought you were gone." Hermione's wand hand didn't waver in the slightest.
"Oh, please."
"What are you doing?" Ron demanded.
"At the moment I'm trying to take a picture of this to blackmail whoever that pink lady was, you're welcome to help, this camera is impossible to use with just one hand." The thing flashed Harry's injured hand at the two of them. "You don't know anything about a quill that writes in blood, do you? I've never heard of it, but hey, lots of stuff is happening that I hadn't really anticipated."
"Shut up for three seconds," Ron demanded. "What are you talking about? Umbridge did that?"
"If you're talking about the pink lady, then yeah."
"Why should we believe you?" Hermione questioned.
"What exactly do I gain by lying, here?"
"How are we supposed to trust you? We don't even know your name!" Ron said heatedly.
"If you wanted to ask for my name, there are better ways to do it than at..." the thing narrowed his eyes at Ron's wand. "Wandpoint." He managed to make that one word sound simultaneously disdainful and confusing.
Hermione took a step closer, wand still aimed at his heart. "What is your name?" She asked, still scowling at him.
The thing grinned brightly at her. "Let's say you can call me Gabriel, for now," he said. "I'm assuming you're not going to give me your names in return? Or help me with this?" He tossed the camera carelessly onto the nearest bed.
"I want to talk to Harry," Hermione said.
Gabriel raised his eyebrows. "Suit yourself."
"So," Dumbledore said, "this Gabriel is, in fact, still around."
"Yeah," Harry said. "Unfortunately. Er, sir."
"I thought it was a sure thing that he was gone!" Hermione seemed rather irritated.
"It is entirely possible for spells to fail," Dumbledore said, far calmer than Harry felt. He appeared to be examining his bookcase. "However, it is surprising that they did so in this case. The Department of Mysteries is very good at what they do."
"Which is what, exactly?" Gabriel asked, crossing his legs. Ron jumped. Hermione's hand went to her wand. "'Cause the name alone is making me interested."
Dumbledore turned around.
"I assume you're Gabriel," he said evenly, gaze betraying nothing.
"Aw, what gave it away?" Gabriel asked brightly. "Lemme guess, this is the part where you threaten me into leaving."
"I have a feeling that won't work."
"Well, score one for your intuition, then."
"Professor-" Hermione said, somewhat desperately, eyes still on Gabriel. Dumbledore came closer, and sat down at his desk, opposite Gabriel.
"What do you want with Harry Potter?" He asked.
Gabriel snorted. "With him? Buddy, you're assuming I chose him on purpose. The kid just happened to be the best choice out of everyone there."
"Of course," Dumbledore said, in a way that meant yeah fucking right. "And you happened to like him so much that you stayed."
"What's so bad about that? I'm not doing anything. In case you didn't notice, I only popped up again because the kid was literally getting tortured. You're welcome."
"Pardon me if I find it suspicious that you're willing to leave him, for the most part, alone; and for so little in return."
Gabriel grinned like a cat who'd just seen that its prey had nowhere else to run. "If you're gonna ask, ask plainly, dude."
"What do you get out of this?" It was like they'd both forgotten Ron and Hermione were there. The two students were watching the conversation warily.
"Nothing big," Gabriel said leisurely.
Dumbledore's eyebrows furrowed, which was really the closest he'd ever get to a scowl.
"I'm serious, " Gabriel said. "Look, any old...acquaintances of mine who might be keeping an eye out for me, they see the kid, they see a soul, they assume nobody else is in here. It's not like I'm doing anything to him just by being here."
"That remains to be seen," Dumbledore said.
"Oh, come on! What possible reason do you have to be so damn suspicious?"
Plenty, Harry thought, thinking of Ginny and the diary.
"I don't think it's safe," Hermione said, "just letting him stay...in you and not doing anything."
"We can't really do much," Harry said. "I mean, he was right, even the Department of Mysteries lady had no idea he was there."
"Harry!"
"Hey, it's me he's possessing, I'm as scared as you are," Harry said, being unusually honest. "I just...he didn't do anything. I guess I believe him when he says he won't."
Hermione eyed him skeptically. "You realize he could be influencing you to believe him."
"Hermione, I guarantee you, whatever you've thought of, I have to. He's in my head. Hell, he's giving me half the suggestions."
"That's not reassuring!"
"Well, if he tries something, you can Petrify me and he won't be able to do anything."
(Bit of a skip here to Deathly Hallows, btw, the bits in between are up to your imagination because I never wrote them)
Harry closed the door behind Hermione, still breathing hard from what he'd seen. He dropped his toothbrush absentmindedly on the counter.
"So," his reflection said, in an American accent, and Harry jumped. "Is this gonna be a thing? Because lying to your friends shouldn't be a thing."
"What the hell," Harry said.
His reflection rolled its eyes. "If you'd prefer I could just talk straight into your head, but I get the feeling it wouldn't be well received."
Okay. Gabriel was using mirrors to talk to him now. This was fine.
"It's none of your business," Harry said, gripping the sides of the sink tightly and looking down. At the edge of his vision, his reflection continued to casually stand.
"Well, sure, except I'm in here too," Gabriel snapped, leaning forward. "The hell do you think I'm doing, just sitting tight? No! I saw that too, dumbass."
Harry's head snapped up. It was incredibly surreal for the expression reflected to be disdain instead of surprise. "What? How?"
"Like I know?" Gabriel shrugged exaggeratedly. "The hell are you doing with your face?"
Harry realized he'd been unconsciously trying to mimic Gabriel's expression. "Nothing," he said hastily. "Look, I can't tell Hermione about this stuff. She'll just yell at me about 'letting Voldemort into my head' or whatever."
"And keeping it secret is gonna help?" Gabriel scoffed. "Not that she's right or anything, I'm just sayin'."
"Since when are you the voice of reason?"
"I know, right? The irony of this is great. I think I could get used to it."
Harry resisted the temptation to bang his head on the nearest wall and instead turned his back on the mirror, crossing his arms.
"Aw, don't sulk," Gabriel said.
"I'm not sulking, I just don't want to talk to you." Harry stared at the wall. "What's with you doing this, anyway?"
"By which you mean...?"
"You talk to me for about a minute at a time, and it's always to make fun of me."
"Hey, I've gotta get my kicks somehow. It's not like I've got a TV in here. Hell, a comic book would do at this point," Gabriel complained. "Besides, I think making fun of you's a reasonable price for the kind'a things I've helped with. Or are you conveniently forgetting all the nice stuff I did?"
"Your 'nice stuff' list only has like three things on it," Harry replied, turning around to give Gabriel an incredulous look.
"Yeah, and those three things are, let me think, oh yeah!" Gabriel ticked them off on his fingers. "Saving your godfather, helping you curse Snape, helping you with Umbridge-"
"I get it. I know what happened."
"Alright then," Gabriel sniffed. "It's not too much to ask for a little appreciation once in a while. But you wanna keep me your deus ex machina, fine, don't complain when I don't show for the little stuff."
The mirror appeared to warp slightly. Harry blinked. His reflection blinked, too.
"Always has to have the last word," he grumbled.
"So what do we do with it?" They had set up the tent, set up wards, and they were still standing around a table with the locket gingerly placed on top of it with no idea what to do.
"If we had the sword-" Ron began. He was sitting down, arm in a sling Hermione had conjured.
"If," Hermione interrupted. "And if we had something else that could damage it conveniently at hand, yes, we could destroy it, but we don't."
"So what do we do?"
Hermione hesitated. "I don't know," she said. "We've got to keep it safe, obviously...Harry?"
Harry, on some instinct, closed his eyes. Gabriel opened them.
Ron and Hermione both stiffened imperceptibly. The flash of blue was always a dead giveaway.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
"I'm gonna regret this," Gabriel sighed, "but what the hell."
He reached forward, too quickly for either of them to stop him, and grabbed the Horcrux.
Both Hermione and Ron had to turn away from the bright flash, throwing their arms up to shield their faces. When it receded, Gabriel staggered and then caught himself on the edge of the table.
"Harry-" Hermione made an aborted movement towards him.
"Yeah," Harry said breathlessly. "I - that was surreal."
"You're telling me, mate," Ron said, staring at the locket in the middle of the table, dented and crumpled and definitely destroyed. "What the hell is Gabriel?"
None of them had intended, or even so much as expected, to run across a scruffy man wearing a dirty trench coat in the middle of a forest. Life was just weird like that.
"Bloody hell," Ron yelped, hand jumping to his wand.
Hermione already had hers out. "Who are you?" She demanded.
Harry's eyes flashed blue. "Castiel?" Gabriel said incredulously.
Castiel stared back, frozen in the middle of hurriedly backing away. "Gabriel?"
"What," Ron said.
"How the hell are you here?" Gabriel demanded.
"I don't know," Castiel admitted awkwardly, with an uncomfortable pause between the words. "I - where is this, exactly?"
"Gabriel, who is this," Hermione hissed out of the corner of her mouth. Gabriel ignored her, pushing her wand hand down in lieu of an answer.
"Where is this?" He asked her, hand still on her wrist. "I haven't been paying attention, which I'm sure you're thrilled by."
"Let me go," Hermione snapped. Gabriel took his hand back.
"Well?"
"It's the Forest of Dean. Who is this?"
"The Forest of Dean," Castiel muttered to himself. "Where is that?"
"England, roundabouts, how do you not know where you are, Castiel?" Gabriel demanded. Castiel was still staring at Gabriel like the latter was a 15-car pileup and seemed too distracted to answer.
"Would someone please explain what's going on!" Ron shouted.
"Just to be petty, no," Gabriel said shortly, grabbing the lapel of Castiel's coat. "You are coming back to the tent with me, I don't know what the hell happened to keeping clean but obviously you've been a little busy-" He was already striding away, Castiel stumbling in his wake. Ron and Hermione stared at each other for a few moments before hurrying to follow.
Castiel looked even worse, in the light of the tent. The dimness of the forest hadn't made it obvious that he wasn't just scruffy, but unshaven and quite possibly unwashed. The trench coat barely bore mentioning.
Gabriel didn't appear to have stopped talking. "I don't even want to know how you managed to not notice all this dirt-"
"Hey!" Hermione shouted, managing to cut him off. Gabriel looked over at her sharply. "Would you stop for three seconds and tell us who this person is?"
Gabriel hesitated.
Castiel took the opening. "Brother, what happened to you?" He asked, making as if to put a hand on Gabriel's shoulder and appearing to change his mind at the last moment.
"Brother?" Ron repeated incredulously.
"Never mind that-" Gabriel said loudly.
Hermione poked her wand sharply forward, and a piercing whistle sounded. Ron winced, raising his hands to cover his ears. Castiel and Gabriel looked at her.
"All of you, sit down," she said, and pointed at Castiel. "You are going to explain what you're doing here, and you-" She rounded on Gabriel. "I want to talk to Harry."
"Suit your damn self," Gabriel snapped, and Harry staggered with the force with which Gabriel receded.
"Are you all right?" Hermione questioned.
"I'm fine," Harry said. Castiel was staring at him with a penetrative stare that reminded him of Dumbledore.
"You're Gabriel's vessel," he said slowly.
"I'm my own person too, thanks," Harry said, leaning away slightly.
"How the hell are you Gabriel's brother?" Ron asked, stomping to try and get mud off his shoes.
Castiel tilted his head, turning to face Ron. "Is it impossible for one to have family?"
"Yeah, but he's..." Words failed Ron.
"Brother or no," Hermione broke in, "What did you mean, when you asked Gabriel what happened to him?"
Castiel glanced at Harry. "He did not exactly...look like himself."
"Doesn't he look like me?" Harry asked, bewildered.
"No," Castiel replied. "Not the way we see each other."
"Well, this is all very properly confusing," Ron said loudly.
"I didn't mean it to be."
Hermione cleared her throat. "Maybe you could let us have a private conversation for a minute?" She asked pointedly. "There's a bathroom in the back."
Castiel looked down at himself, as if suddenly remembering the state of himself. And his clothes. "Ah," he said. "Of course."
All three of them waited until Castiel was out of sight, and then they all started talking at once.
"Another one-" Ron hissed.
"I don't think-" Hermione began.
"I didn't know Gabriel had a brother," Harry said.
They all subsided awkwardly, and then Hermione said, "Well, him being Gabriel's brother isn't exactly a glowing recommendation of trustworthiness."
"And we don't know who he's possessing, anyway," Ron said. "I'd like a talk with whoever else is in there before we decide anything."
"Decide what?" Harry said. "It's not like he's likely to go to Voldemort and spill all our secrets."
"Harry, I hate to say it, but you're hardly unbiased," Hermione said. "You've - well, I think Gabriel affects you even if he's not trying. And just because this Castiel isn't in league with Voldemort doesn't mean he's trustworthy."
"Hey-"
"Mate, Hermione's right," Ron said. "We don't know a thing about him-"
"Oh come on, Ron-"
"Except that he looks like he's been wandering around on his own for weeks," Ron continued loudly. "And that he somehow managed to run across us-"
"What, you think he did it on purpose?" Harry scoffed. "I saw his face as well as you did when he realized who Gabriel was. And he definitely wouldn't have tried to find us because of any of us three. If he did."
"All I'm saying is that we should be careful," Hermione said. "We've got enough on our plate already."
Harry looked down, unable to disagree. Gabriel looked up with a distinctly sour twist to his mouth.
"And if Castiel doesn't live up to your expectations?" He asked levelly.
"It's not like we're obligated to keep him around," Ron retorted. "We've kind of got a Dark Lord to get rid of, in case you hadn't noticed."
Gabriel's lip curled. "And I'm sure this is how you treat your family."
"Leave my family out of this," Ron snapped. "What are you going to do if we decide we don't want him around?"
"I'll go with him is what I'll do," Gabriel shot back.
"You can't do that," Hermione said, one hand on her wand.
Gabriel leaned closer until she had to lean back to maintain personal space. "Fucking watch me," Gabriel said, and there was a fluttering noise and a hand on his shoulder and Castiel was pulling him back.
"This is entirely unnecessary," he said.
Gabriel whirled on him. "The hell it isn't-"
"You cannot threaten to steal away in their friend's body merely to assure my presence," Castiel informed him, voice still gravelly but the rest of him far neater (and cleaner) than he had been five minutes ago. There was, however, still something fidgety and restless about him.
Gabriel snorted so hard the force of it might have made him bend in half. "You expect me to find you wandering around like that in the middle of a forest and not be worried! I've seen the kind of crap you get up to-"
"I was under the impression you had removed yourself as far as possible from that fight," Castiel said, dry as a desert.
"Don't you dare," Gabriel warned, stabbing a finger at him.
That scene ends a little abruptly because I never finished it, so just assume they come to some kind of agreement and Castiel ends up staying with them.
One night, Hermione woke late, for no reason that she could immediately figure out. She lay in bed for a few moments, before she realized that there were quiet voices coming from the direction of the tent flap. She sat bolt upright in the bunk, barely avoiding hitting her hand, and was half out of bed with her wand in her hand before she recognized Castiel and Harry staring back at her in the darkness.
"Go back to sleep," Gabriel said - and it was Gabriel, that wasn't Harry's accent. "It's only us."
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked quietly, remembering that Ron was still asleep in the bunk above her. She stood up and crept closer, managing to avoid the table.
"Only talking," Castiel said.
"Nothing that's any of your business," Gabriel added.
Hermione sat herself stubbornly in the nearest chair. "I'm not tired," she said stiffly.
Gabriel scoffed. Castiel murmured something in a growling, guttural language that she didn't understand. Gabriel turned away from her, replying in kind.
Hermione drifted off at some point, not understanding a word of what they were saying, and woke later with a crick in her neck and Harry bending over her curiously.
"What are you sleeping in a chair for?" He asked.
"No reason," Hermione said grumpily. "Where's Castiel?"
It turned out that Harry didn't know.
Another skip here
Harry coughed out a very small scrap of bluish white light.
It was barely bright enough to attract attention, but he heard Ron shout somewhere in the distance. He was too busy staggering and trying to regain his balance to see what Castiel was doing, bent over the man he'd brought along (who was either unconscious or worse).
"Harry!" Hermione's voice was very loud in his ear, but her hand on his shoulder was a steadying presence.
Someone was laughing hoarsely. It turned out to be the guy Castiel had brought with him, rolling over with a groan that didn't put a dent in his humorous attitude.
"Hell yeah," he said, letting Castiel pull him to his feet. "You really came through, bro!"
"Gabriel?" Harry asked disbelievingly, and the man turned to him with a bright smile and the barest trace of unsteadiness in his limbs.
"You know it!" He slung an arm over Harry's shoulders, dislodging Hermione. "No offense, but this is much better than sharing headspace with somebody. New and improved! Well, not new per se-"
"Right," Harry said. "Um. This is you?"
"As close as you're ever going to get to seeing the real me," Gabriel said, and squeezed Harry a little uncomfortably close before letting go. All of him seemed to be very pale - pale skin, pale blond hair, pale eyes. His clothes were a stark black, in contrast and in the dim light of a forest in the evening.
Harry thought there might be a very slight edge of the otherworldly to him, but maybe it was just because he knew Gabriel.
"Enough!" Gabriel shouted, and he planted his feet firmly in the ground, and something leaped up around him.
The Snatchers collapsed like they'd been Stupefied, something white like lightning crackling along the ground towards them from Gabriel. Harry looked incredulously at Gabriel in time to see Gabriel waver.
Castiel was at his side in a second, just in time to keep Gabriel from hitting the ground. He looked very different, limp and only standing because Castiel was holding him up. Castiel didn't stick around long enough for Harry to see if Gabriel was even still conscious.
"What the hell was that?" Ron demanded. "I am getting really sick of having to ask that question all the time!"
"Back to the tent," Hermione said.
"We'd better take their wands first," Harry pointed out. Hermione glanced at Ron, then nodded at him.
They slipped into the tent quietly. It was dark inside, but Hermione turned on the lights with a flick of her wand, revealing Castiel hunched over a vaguely human-shaped lump in one of the bunks."
Castiel turned to look at them, pinning them in place with only his gaze. There was something entirely inhuman about him, in that moment, as he stared them down. Harry felt a shiver go down his back.
Then the moment passed, and Castiel looked away again, back at the lump that was undoubtedly Gabriel.
"What's wrong with him?" Ron asked.
Castiel didn't answer. After a very long time, in which the three of them risked moving further into the tent (carefully, as if the slightest movement might set something off) he asked, "How many times has he done this?"
"Pardon?" Hermione questioned.
"How many times," Castiel repeated, "has he done something like that for you?"
"You mean to help?" Hermione glanced at Harry. "Well...he broke the locket Horcrux."
"Snape," Ron said. "He definitely did something to Snape."
"Sirius," Harry added, without clarifying. It hadn't seemed like magic at the time, but time had stretched itself inordinately far to allow him to reach Sirius before the curse hit. He wasn't sure he could explain it.
Castiel looked down, mouth tightening into a stiff line. He looked upset.
"He didn't normally faint," Hermione said.
"I have no doubt that he did," Castiel retorted, suddenly sharp. "You were most likely too glad that your friend was in control again to wonder why he had vanished so quickly."
Hermione shut her mouth abruptly. Harry could see the gears of her brain spinning, pulling up memories and no doubt trying to calculate the exact time it had taken after every instance they'd named for Gabriel to vanish and Harry to surface. He already knew the answers were all a matter of seconds. Maybe not even that long.
"So," Harry said carefully, "is it - is he hurt, or something?"
Castiel dragged a hand down his face. "He is a fool, mostly," he said. "And I - I cannot hope to explain except in the ridiculous way he explained it to me."
Harry sat down. He had a feeling it was going to be a long story.
"He compared himself to Kronos," Castiel said, sounding very irritated about it.
"From Greek mythology?" Hermione immediately questioned. Harry was hardly surprised she'd recognized the name.
"I assume so." Castiel sighed. "They're nothing alike. I assume it was for the parallel in their stories, but-" He visibly restrained himself.
"So?" Ron prompted.
It might have been Harry's imagination, but he thought the lights dimmed slightly. Castiel leaned against the railing of the bunk.
"Kronos was a Titan," he said. "He was cruel to his family and murdered his own father for the power that he commanded, so his youngest son was hidden away, because there was a prophecy that said that Kronos could only be defeated by his own son. The child, with the help of his mother and Kronos's mother, tricked Kronos into freeing his other children, and began a war against the Titans to overthrow their father.
"I don't know why he bothered telling me that part, since it has nothing to do with him. In any case...Kronos was too powerful to be killed easily, not by any tools his children possessed, so they scattered his essence so far and wide that he could never reform."
It took a moment for Harry to realize Castiel was done. "You're saying someone tried to kill him? Who?"
Castiel looked away. "Some of our brothers are..." He didn't finish.
Harry didn't like what he was implying. A glance at Ron and Hermione showed they were both looking back at him with huge eyes.
None of them spoke, for a long moment.
"Sorry," Ron muttered, eventually. "We didn't know."
"I wouldn't expect you to," Castiel replied, eyes on Gabriel. "Pride is one of the only things about him still perfectly intact."
Hermione cleared her throat. "You say he was...scattered," she said, hesitantly. "What does it mean, then? That he used...whatever power you two have to help us?"
"It means perhaps he saw something in you he thought worthy of spending what little power he had on," Castiel said, quietly. "Perhaps he was paying a debt." His eyes shifted to Harry. "You gave him a place to hide, and rest, and try and recover. However reluctantly."
More like incredibly reluctantly, Harry thought.
"That isn't really what I asked," Hermione dared to say.
Castiel looked at her for a very long moment. "If Gabriel overstepped his boundaries," he said, "if he tried to use more power than he had - he might - fall apart. Again."
"Oh," Hermione said.
"I can hope that whoever put him back together is still watching," Castiel said, with a sour curl to his mouth, "but I doubt it."
"Whoever - what?" Harry asked blankly.
"Gabriel was scattered," Castiel said severely. "I thought him dead, and he might as well have been. Your Dark Lord had a spell he should not have been able to find, and performed it with ingredients he should not have been able to obtain and managed to put enough power behind it that he could scrape together enough of my brother to allow him to act like himself. None of that is a coincidence. Someone arranged things to bring him back."
Harry stared. Castiel sighed, and it seemed like he wilted, becoming smaller than he was a moment ago.
"Some of him, at any rate," Castiel murmured.
Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione, and privately wondered what he'd do if either of them ever ended up like Gabriel. The enormity of Castiel's situation hit him like a punch to the stomach.
"He'll be alright," Harry said, somewhat anxiously. "Won't he?"
"We shall see," Castiel said, not sounding particularly hopeful. "If he has recovered before, he should this time."
Harry rolled over in the middle of the night, awake for no reason he could immediately discern. The bunk above his creaked, and he abruptly remembered who he was sleeping underneath.
He practically held his breath for a moment, but neither Castiel nor Gabriel (if he was even awake yet) appeared to be bothered. Castiel, however, spoke after a moment in a very quiet voice.
"It would be singularly rude of you to die after I've only just found you again, Gabriel."
Harry stayed still, staring into the darkness of the tent, for some time. Castiel did not speak again.
That's it? lmao I don't know how it ends, I never finished writing it out. I ad-libbed a lot of this because I lost track of the notebook/changed my mind, but it's basically what I started with.