Dean is grumbling quietly to Jo over dinner that night, absently pushing his food around his plate, when he sees Castiel, Balthazar and Anna walk into the hall together. Balthazar wraps an arm around Castiel's back and hugs him loosely, before he moves off to the Ravenclaw table. Castiel and Anna carry on whatever conversation they're having as they sit down at the Slytherin table on either side of Crowley.
"Any reason why Winchester is glaring a hole into my skull?" Crowley deadpans as he looks up from shovelling food into his face. Dean is glowering at him from the other side of the hall. The blonde girl sitting beside him seems to be lecturing him about something that he obviously cares little about.
"He glares at everyone." Anna replies, small smirk on her face. "Well, everyone that's not Sam or Cas. Or that girl sitting next to him, apparently."
"Isn't she the Gryffindor Quidditch captain?" Crowley asks, narrowing his eyes at her. "Name's Harvelle or something. Oh, that reminds me. Ruby told me to tell you that Quidditch practice is tomorrow, and on Thursday. Something to do with us needing to be ready to beat Ravenclaw."
"Does she realize that game isn't until February?" Castiel frowns, twisting his fork between his fingers. "It isn't even Christmas yet."
"Probably. But she also probably overestimates the abilities of the Ravenclaw team. But then, it's Ruby. I think she gets some kind of sick enjoyment out of working us like dogs."
Castiel frowns at his plate for a second, pours himself a coffee from the pot in the middle of the table and looks up. Dean is now no longer eyeing Crowley, and is instead staring at him. He stares back until the girl next to Dean taps him and draws him away.
"Stop staring at him! It's weird." Jo chides him, elbowing him in the side.
"He does it all the time." Dean replies with a huff, dropping his cutlery to his plate and sighing.
"So? His whole family do, I don't know if you've noticed. Michael was the worst for it; he used to terrify me during practice." Jo retorts. "And besides, just because he stares at you doesn't mean you should stare back. If he fell off his broom, would you fall too?"
Dean narrows his eyes at her, and she just laughs.
"Actually, don't answer that. You probably would."
"I hate you."
"I know."
"I'm going to go say goodnight to Sam." Anna announces, swinging her legs over the bench and standing up. "I'll see you in the common room." She hugs Castiel around the neck and moves quickly off to the Hufflepuff table.
"How does it feel?" Crowley asks, draining his glass and slamming it on the table.
"How does what feel?"
"Your sister already has more friends than you. She's twelve, Cas."
Castiel stays silent, drinking his coffee quietly until only the dregs remain.
"I have enough friends."
"Really? Name one."
"I have you."
"I don't think that counts. We grew up together."
"So, what are you then? Are you still just the idiotic seven year old who lived next door and got his broom stuck in the tree in our front garden?"
Crowley frowns at him, straightens his blazer haphazardly with one hand and gets to his feet.
"I told you not to talk about that. We made a deal." He narrows his eyes at the other boy, and Castiel raises his eyebrows as if humouring him. "So, I'm going to try and get this Potions study finished before bed. Are you coming with me?" Crowley continues, offering out his arm.
"I suppose I'd better. I finished it on the day it was set, but I know you'll complain if I let you go alone."
"You know me so well." Crowley smirks at him, grabs his arm and pulls him out of his seat and down the gap between the tables to the doorway. Dean watches them go from the Gryffindor table.
"If you glare at him any harder, I think you might actually explode because of all of your suppressed rage." Jo comments with a laugh in her voice.
"Shut up and eat your chicken."
"So, I don't think Winchester likes me much." Crowley laughs as he leaves the Great Hall with Castiel on his arm. Castiel frowns at him, but doesn't say anything, then pushes his free hand through his unruly bangs and lets Crowley drag him to their common room.
"What's an appropriate use for a bezoar?" Crowley asks later, after two hours of flicking through the mountainous pile of textbooks next to him. Castiel sighs from the floor, where he's lying in front of the fire and staring out of the windows into the lake.
"They're an antidote to most poisons. That's first year knowledge, and I told you in class last week. Has your memory really gotten that bad?"
"I probably wasn't listening to you in the first place. Your voice has a certain drone to it that I tend to block out."
Castiel glares at him, and Crowley smirks almost playfully back at him as he scribbles down the few words on bezoars.
"See, you even bored Anna to sleep." Crowley points out as he rolls up his parchment and drops it unceremoniously on top of his copy of Advanced Potion-Making. Castiel looks up half-heartedly at his sister, who is sprawled out in one of the huge, leather armchairs, hair in her face and breathing quietly. Castiel smiles at her, almost affectionately, and hauls himself up from the floor to wake her.
She glares at him through her hair when she finally opens her eyes, and he almost smiles at her again as she bats him away and stumbles to her feet.
"You should go to bed." Castiel comments, eyeing his sister's sleepy frame. She pouts at him half-heartedly, but hugs him loosely with one arm around his waist and tells him goodnight before she heads for the girls' dormitories.
The two boys watch her go, and Crowley wraps an arm around Castiel's shoulders and steers him towards the stairs to the boys' dormitories.
"We should go too. Quidditch practice tomorrow, and all." Crowley sighs, sliding his arm away from Castiel's shoulders as he pushes him down the stairs. Castiel almost sighs, as if only now remembering. Crowley smirks softly, pushing Castiel into his bed before falling into his own.
He wakes the next morning to Castiel kicking his bedpost as he ties his tie.
"Get up. I can't take you to Transfiguration if you oversleep, I'd be late for Arithmancy."
Crowley groans at him and sits up, watching absently as Castiel rolls his shirt sleeves up and pulls his sweater over his head.
"Do I have to?" He grumbles, pulling himself up and fumbling around for his uniform.
"Yes. Unless you want Professor McGonagall on your case again."
Crowley huffs at him as he tugs his shirt on to his shoulders.
"I'll meet you in the common room." Castiel announces, scooping up his Arithmancy books. "And don't forget your essay on Animagi. I think that would get you killed."
The two of them stumble into the Great Hall ten minutes later, Crowley still straightening his blazer, with two rolls of parchment tucked under his arm.
"Remind me why I took Transfiguration?" Crowley sighs through a mouthful of toast as Castiel stirs his coffee.
"Because you're good at it, everyone else in your family took it, and you want to work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." He replies with an almost practiced rhythm as he thumbs through his Arithmancy essay.
"Oh, yeah." Crowley deadpans, voice toneless. He had forgotten that Castiel doesn't have the best grasp of rhetorical questions. Castiel drinks all but a mouthful of his coffee in one motion, slamming the mug down and getting to his feet.
"I'm going to Arithmancy. I need to speak with Professor Vector before class. I'll see you in Potions." Castiel nods at him, and Crowley attempts to nod back, but gives up and slumps forward instead. Castiel almost laughs before he walks away.
Crowley sits there, forehead resting on the table, and is almost drifting off into a nap when a cough startles him.
"You're Crowley, right? Castiel's friend?" Dean asks, standing on the opposite side of the table, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Indeed I am. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Winchester." Crowley pulls himself up into a sitting position and holds out his hand. "Crowley Fergus McLeod, at your service."
"Uh, hi. I'm Dean." The Gryffindor frowns at him, but shakes his hand anyway.
"Oh, I know." Crowley almost smirks at him, priding himself on the wide-eyed expression he receives in response.
"Excuse me?"
"Don't worry about it." Crowley stands up and pats Dean on the shoulder. "You're in my Transfiguration class, right? Let's take a walk."
"I actually needed to talk to you." Dean admits as the two of them cross the Transfiguration courtyard. Crowley raises an eyebrow at him.
"Oh, really? Fire away. I'm all ears."
"Castiel's your best friend, right? He's like family to you?"
"I suppose, yes. I have known him since we were children."
"Well, uh, do you know if he-"
"Is a mass of walking social awkwardness? Why yes. Yes, he is."
"That wasn't what I-"
"Do you really think talking to me is the right way to go about this?" Crowley stops in the doorway of their classroom to stare at him. "Given what you know about him, of course."
Dean's shoulders drop a little as he sighs.
"I guess you're right. I'll talk to him." He tries to push past Crowley and into the classroom, but the Slytherin grabs him by the arm and stops him.
"Now, when did I say I wouldn't help?"