Another chapter! The beginning of this one took a while to write, mainly because working a code into things like that takes a while to figure out, and I had to rewrite it several times so it made sense both ways.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy Gabriel's first day! I have a feeling Snape isn't going to be too pleased with this development...although this version of Harry is considerably closer to his expectations.
I apologize if it gets confusing, since I call Gabriel, Gabriel, but everyone else calls him Harry.
Also, in regards to Michael the gender-neutral character: I'm going to refer to Michael as 'ne/nir/nis' in place of 'he/him/his' mostly because that's the best gender neutral pronoun I could find. If anyone has a better suggestion, let me know through review or a PM! I'm open to suggestions. I was kind a surprised no one commented on him in the reviews.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter.
The scroll unrolled to reveal several sheets of parchment rolled together, and as Gabriel pulled them apart they enlarged until a normal-size stack of sheets sat on his bed. Curious, Gabriel reached for the top one, picking it up and seeing the marks in Enochian carefully penned with a quill.
Containing his surprise, Gabriel realized that whatever was written here was a nonsense code which required proof of his identity before it would unscramble. Hesitantly, and knowing that the ghosts would immediately recognize who it came from, he loosened his grip on his Grace and let a little of it leak through his hand and onto the page. It was too early to be throwing it around like this, especially as he was still slowly gaining it back.
The symbols rearranged themselves, flitting back and forth on the page until they had created something understandable. A breath Gabriel released over the paper caused them to glow, a trick used by angels ever since a need for code had been created. Leaning over the paper, he began to read, the paper lighting itself enough to allow him to read it in the dark.
The knocker who no doubt gave this to you has been enchanted to leave this knowledge only to my kin. I leave this note as proof of my presence here at Hogwarts. I have taken a female vessel, one of the four who wishes to create a haven for those killed in misguided faith to my Father.
Every one of these humans has talent, and I confess I was furious until I learned that they made no deals for their skill, but were born with it. My vessel has eagerly accepted my presence, on account of the knowledge I have promised to leave for future generations of this Fae-born race. I might fear for their advancement, if such trends as I have observed among the students persist in years to come. I admit to knowing little of the future, but I fear what may be simply because of arrogance and perceived superiority. The Mundane students who come here are fearful of even themselves, their parents having taught them that all magic is the devil's work. While the majority of the time on the first Earth this was indeed the cause, I have seen little of demons here. Perhaps Hell does not reach quite this far. Of my fellow founding wizards and witches, only Salazar Slytherin understands this as well as I do. He has been withdrawn, and of late bitter, ever since the attack came onto his family home by the Mundanes which had previously lived under their protection. I do not think I have leave to remark upon his condition, however.
Lately the Mundanes have become more bold, so my vessel's memories show me. In their hurry to please my Father and gain entrance into Paradise, they write away the rights of their fellows for the simple fact that they are different. Do they not understand that my Father's decree was to love? They seem to arbitrarily pick and choose who is worthy of the Lord without ever picking up the Lord's work.
Yesterday was the day I chose to leave this note behind, and now I am full of doubt. What if one not worthy of this seeks it and reads this note? I beseech whoever you may be, use this not for selfish gain but return the prize within to our siblings, and forgive me for taking it after its use was complete.
Each of us played our part, and yet I could not bear it. If it is you who has found this, then when you find the treasure know that I am sorry for what I did; stealing it was unfair to you, as I know how much you treasured it.
The key is in the letter I leave to you here, and if you are unable to decipher what clue I leave you then consider it a warning to stay away from what is in upper years' work and not yours.
Please let no one see this besides your eyes.
2 places in Hogwarts are mine alone, the dorms I created for my students being the other one of them.
Left behind as my legacy is this school and my vessel's status as a reputable sorceress. I hope this will not go to waste.
Each student is to be treasured.
Fear no evil as long as you linger in the halls, for the school in protected against every creature currently known to these men.
The other Founders halls are their own secrets, and unless you are decreed worthy of their House leave those secrets be until the right one comes along.
3 years' work has gone into this. Keep this secret with your life, if it does come to that. Our Father bless you, and I hope you are the right one.
Muriel
Gabriel leaned back onto his pillows as he finished. An angel as one of the Founders...so Muriel had been here before, and the evidence of his wand said that Samandiriel had as well. How many of his brothers and sisters had traveled here?
Gabriel wrenched his attention back to the note. Muriel had obviously expected to be discovered, if the note was anything to go by, though not for several years. She had taken one of the Founders as a vessel, and left behind some sort of legacy and a treasure for whichever came after her.
A thought gave Gabriel pause. What if Samandiriel had discovered the same things he had? It would have been easy for the younger angel to replace the letter, and there might not be a treasure to retrieve anymore.
Gabriel cast that aside. Even if there was nothing to find, this would provide a welcome distraction from classes. A key was worked into this somewhere, and not even his low power could deter him from figuring it out.
Gabriel was down in the common room already when his dorm mates arrived. He had seen someone who must have been Professor Flitwick arrive, as Gabriel had seen the short man at the staff table the other night. The Professor simply nodded to him in greeting, going up the staircase to the dorms. Gabriel assumed he was here for Michael.
How odd, Gabriel realized, that someone named Michael would be neither one nor the other, not unlike Gabriel's brother of the same name. He shrugged and returned to the book he was skimming over; he had come down early in the morning to try and find out more about the Founders. There had been four, and the Houses were apparently their namesake, but after hearing some of the wizard last names Gabriel found that a little less ridiculous. Ravenclaw had been a woman, and reportedly used feats of magic which she credited to an unknown source she had discovered in her search for knowledge. Gabriel glanced up at the statue of a woman that he had noticed last night in the common room.
It was most likely of Rowena Ravenclaw, and whoever had carved it had made her standing tall, a wand held by one side. She was wearing a strange sort of circlet, with embellishments showing where the jewels would be. Gabriel snorted at the artist's license and went back to the book.
The only Founder's chamber it mentioned was the legend of the Chamber of Secrets, with no mention of the other Founders building one. Gabriel was combing the pages for something he might have missed when his classmates stumbled down, seeming surprised to find him already there.
"What are you doing?" Asked one of them. Gabriel didn't look up from the book.
"I would think it was obvious." He closed it in frustration, resisting the urge to throw the volume at someone.
"Ravenclaw's meant for the smart, but I don't think we're supposed to take it literally." said another boy, glancing around at the shelves which filled the common room. The room was open and airy, being in a tower and all, with gold constellations painted on the ceiling. There were plenty of spaces to sit and do work, and a circle of comfortable chairs and couches surrounded a small grate which was currently empty of anything save a few logs. Gabriel stood up, making a show of stretching like someone would after sitting down for a while.
"Well," he said, "I'm going down to the Great Hall. How long do we have until classes start, half an hour?" He grinned at his classmates panic at finding they had so little time left, and as he closed the door behind him he twisted his hand slightly, disabling the spell he'd set up and returning time to its normal speed.
He may not have had a lot of Grace to waste, but what was the harm in some small pranks?
Older students had already partially filled the hall by the time Gabriel arrived, having taken nearly twenty minutes to find his way back downstairs. He took a seat at Ravenclaw table, and someone immediately passed a stack of parchment to him. Gabriel was about to shove it back at the girl before he realized that it was their schedules for the year. He located his and pushed the stack onto the table in front of the empty seat next to him.
Transfiguration took up the first two periods, then straight to lunch. Potions after lunch, then History of Magic, and right before dinner was Herbology. Astronomy was, apparently, on Tuesday at midnight. The schedule went on to detail the rest of the week, but Gabriel folded it up and stuck it in his pocket for now. His bag had been enchanted by a woman he'd met in Diagon Alley the day after McGonagall had left, and so every one of his textbooks was carried around in it and the bag still felt like it was empty. Gabriel had taken care to remember the words and the little flick of her wand she'd given, and made a note to practice the spell first chance he got.
His classmates piled into the hall several minutes after Gabriel got there, stuffing their faces and hurriedly exchanging schedules. Gabriel went on his way early to Transfiguration. Not that he intended to be early, of course, but he needed time to explore the castle. Ravenclaw challenge aside, who knew what he might find?
He was ten minutes late to class.
In Gabriel's defense, he really didn't know that the fourth-floor corridor didn't reach a staircase until it was at the other side of the castle.
He opened the door mid-lecture, receiving a stern look from Professor McGonagall.
"Sorry," he said, entirely unapologetic. "I got lost."
"Sit down, Mr. Potter." said McGonagall dryly. "In the future, I expect you to be on time to your classes. Understood?" Gabriel nodded as he sat down in the only empty chair.
McGonagall continued with her lecture, and Gabriel looked right at her the whole time while wondering if the raven in the corner was going to be their demonstration. He leaned forward when she turned the desk into a pig, impressed with her concentration. Unfortunately, she turned it back into a desk before he could tell whether the pig was alive or not.
"You won't get to things like this quite yet," McGonagall told the class, to their disappointment. "For now, you'll start off small...Mr. Goldstein, please pass these around." Goldstein came around with a box full of matchsticks, handing them out.
"Your first task," said McGonagall when everyone had a match in front of them, "Is to change this match into a needle." She demonstrated the spell for them, moving her wand slowly and deliberately. "You may begin."
Gabriel brought out his wand, staring at the match thoughtfully. He could have done it in a heartbeat with his Grace, or his Pagan power if he had any, but magic was new. If he wanted to learn how to do it properly, he wouldn't be able to cheat. Sighing internally, Gabriel reached for the core he'd found all those years ago.
Magic turned out to me much more finicky than anything he'd used before. It kept trying to twist its way along different paths in Gabriel's body, and when he finally got it into his hand it was difficult to get it to channel through the wand. He finally succeeded, though, performing the movement and watching the little stream of power wind through his arm and escape the wand tip. His match grew very silver, but it still looked like a match.
Gabriel scowled at the offending metal matchstick, and set himself to the task again with even more determination.
In the end, Gabriel's match stayed a match, and he steamed about it all through Potions. It was only the hasty intervention of his Hufflepuff partner that stopped him adding the wrong ingredient...several times in a row. Gabriel had a feeling that he wouldn't be partnering with them anytime soon.
Potions had the potential to be interesting, or at least Gabriel thought it did, but the Professor really ruined it. When he came to Gabriel's human name while calling attendance, he put the register down and stared at Gabriel.
"Ah yes," Snape said softly. Gabriel frowned. "Harry Potter. Our new...celebrity."
Oh boy. Someone giggled in the back of the classroom, and Gabriel resisted the urge to turn around and glare at them.
Snape finished calling names and put the register down. He began to pace the front of the classroom, robes sweeping dramatically around his feet.
"You are here," he said softly, yet the students could hear every word - none of them dared talk over him. "To learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."
Gabriel raised his eyebrows. He'd been almost impressed, but the last sentence had caused his opinion of the man to plummet abruptly.
"Potter!" Snape turned suddenly to Gabriel. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Gabriel stared at the man, wondering if he'd just had nonsense words shouted at him. Powdered what to an infusion of what?
"No answer?" Snape's lips curled into a smirk, and Gabriel realized that he'd purposely asked a question he knew Gabriel couldn't answer. His opinion of him again descended, falling somewhere into the realm of disdain. "Let's try again," the Professor continued, unaware of Gabriel's thoughts. "Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
"Probably in the cabinets over there." Gabriel gestured with his head, nodding towards the half-open cabinets on the other side of the room. Snape's face tightened.
"Five points from Ravenclaw for talking back," he snapped. "One last time, Potter. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"Probably their names."
"Another five points from Ravenclaw." Snape turned away and spoke to the class at large. "Powdered root of asphodel in an infusion of wormwood creates a sleeping draft so potent it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is found in the stomach of a goat, and monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. Well? Why aren't you writing this down?"
There was a sudden scramble for parchment and quill pens. Snape watched them write furiously, flicking his wand at the board. Instructions began to write themselves on it, chalk appearing on the black surface.
"When you are ready," he called over the scratching noise of quills, "Get your ingredients ready and begin making the potion. The instructions are on the board."
Gabriel stared, his mouth nearly dropping open. All that blabber about the subtle sciences and whatnot - and he just expected them to make a potion perfectly with only instructions? No warning on what might happen, or explanation as to why it happened or why ingredients couldn't mix?
Gabriel had seen Muggle chemistry classes with better instructions.
He had never been more relieved to leave a class. Gabriel made another mental note to ask someone why the Potions Professor hated him.
Flying lessons?
Gabriel stared at the notice on the board, the crowd of first years around him to excited to notice his expression. He didn't need flying lessons! He'd been flying since before this school had existed! What in Heaven and Earth did they even offer flying lessons for?
The row of broomsticks that greeted the mixed Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff class when they came out did nothing to improve Gabriel's mood. He glared at the one at his feet as the students lined up into two rows, instinctively putting Hufflepuffs one one side and Ravenclaws on the other.
The teacher, Madam Hooch, was a hawk-eyed woman with a very short haircut. She stared at all of them severely as she talked about broom safety, and Gabriel got the feeling that if anyone did anything wrong she'd be on them in seconds.
"I'm not going to have any more accidents like the Gryffindor in the last lesson," Hooch lectured. "So be careful, and do not take off until I have said so. Now, stick your hand over your broom and say 'up'."
"Up!" was shouted collectively. Gabriel mutinously stuck his hand over the blasted stick and muttered "Up."
It didn't move at all.
"Get into my hand you damn stick." The broom fairly leapt into Gabriel's hand at that, smacking into his palm and startling him enough to make him stumble backwards. The Hufflepuff standing across from him sniggered, and Gabriel gave him a glare for good measure as Hooch started talking again. She went up and down the line, having people mount their brooms and correcting their grip. When she came to Gabriel, she gave him a hard look.
"Mr. Potter, you're going to need to loosen your grip a little bit, otherwise you'll never get proper control."
I can control my flight, Gabriel thought to himself as the teacher moved on, but let go slightly.
"On my whistle...three...two...one..." A shrill blast punctured the air, and the entire class took off as one. Gabriel pushed off, soaring up and managing to level off about ten feet of the ground when Hooch shouted at them to not go too high.
It wasn't as bad as he'd expected, Gabriel mused, but the unfamiliar feeling of a bit of wood supporting him was uncomfortable, especially as the class went on. Hooch was on her own broom, and directed them in several basic maneuvers before letting them fly freely.
"This is awesome!" shouted Michael as ne swooped past Gabriel. Gabriel smiled slightly, Michael's enthusiasm infectious.
"Hey!" There was a shout from one side. Someone, a student in yellow robes, was drifting higher and higher, obviously not in control of their broom. Hooch went to go see about the problem, steering herself closer to the girl.
Someone screamed about three seconds later. Gabriel looked up to see the girl sliding off her broom, which had jerked violently under her. She was falling straight for him. He barely had time to brace himself and reach out, an instinctual reflex, before she hit him. Gabriel seized her around the chest, his broom falling as the weight of two people bore down on it. The broom spiraled dizzyingly towards the ground, and Gabriel spread his wings to try and slow them down before he could remember what a bad idea that was.
Gabriel bit down on his lip as pain sparked across his back, his injured wings stretching painfully. They wouldn't be fully healed until he got his full Grace back, and so right now they were a mess, stripped of feathers and basically useless. Gabriel hunched over as they hit the ground hard, sending him and the girl he'd caught rolling across the lawn. Gabriel let go of her and tried to alleviate the soreness in his back, and hitting the ground had done that no favors.
"Mr. Potter! Ms. Bones!" Hooch had landed and was running towards them, the rest of the class touching down behind her. Hooch checked over 'Bones' quickly, before moving over to Gabriel.
"Your lip is bleeding," she muttered, and Gabriel realized he was still biting down on it. He opened his mouth and winced as some of the blood spilled onto his tongue. Hooch healed it with a word, and behind her Bones was sitting up with an awed look on her face.
"You'll both be fine," Hooch announced. "Thirty points to Ravenclaw for saving a classmate from a potentially very dangerous fall, Mr. Potter. Can you stand?"
"I think I'll stay on the ground for now," muttered Gabriel, the pain in his back fading to muscle cramps.
Hooch nodded and turned to Bones, pulling her to her feet and checking her over more thoroughly. "Both of you should see Madam Pomfrey, just in case," she decided, casting a worried glance at Gabriel, who remained sprawled where he'd landed. "Mr. Corner!" she called. Michael winced, but came over. "Do you know where the hospital wing is?"
Michael nodded. "I think so."
Hooch told nir the directions, and Michael screwed up nir face as ne tried to remember them.
"Take your classmates up to Madam Pomfrey," said Hooch. "Mr. Potter, you'll need to get up." Gabriel groaned, but hauled himself into a sitting position. He carefully got to his feet, batting away Michael's offered hand.
Michael led them through hallways, nir face the picture of concentration. Michael seemed relieved when the doors of the hospital wing came into sight, and Madam Pomfrey came bustling out.
"What's happened now?" She asked the three of them, eyes skimming over the dirt-stained robes two of them possessed. Michael hurried to explain, summarizing the events neatly.
"Twice in one day," Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Come over here, then, and I'll see what I can find." She sat Gabriel and Bones on two different beds, and Gabriel then discovered that Bones' first name was Susan as Madam Pomfrey clucked over her.
"You'll just be a bit sore," the healer told Susan. "I'd avoid classes next week, until you think you're ready to fly again. Don't let anyone pressure you into getting back on a broom until you're ready, alright?" Susan nodded. "Good. Now, I think you should stay here until your nerves have recovered a it, but otherwise you seem fine. Which doesn't bode well for you, Mr. Potter."
She turned to face Gabriel. "Now, let me see..." she flicked her wand at him, and Gabriel felt a weird, tingly cold wash through his body. Madam Pomfrey seemed to be upset with the results. "It seems you've landed rather heavily on your back and side," she muttered. "No doubt why Miss Bones has very minor bruising. I'll get some bruise balm and be back in a second." Madam Pomfrey bustled off, leaving the three students awkwardly sitting around each other.
"Thanks," blurted Susan, flushing red. "I-I mean, if you hadn't caught me, I'd probably..." she trailed off.
"You were falling right on top of me," replied Gabriel. "It was sort of a spur of the moment thing. But you're welcome."
Susan blushed even harder and looked away. Luckily, Madam Pomfrey took only a few minutes to return with a small tub of some whitish-yellow cream.
"You'll need to take off your shirt," she told Gabriel, who looked out of the corner at his eye at Susan, wondering how she'd react if she had blushed that hard only talking to him. Madam Pomfrey caught the look, and Gabriel could have sworn that she had rolled her eyes before she pulled a set of curtains shut around the bed Gabriel sat on. "Now, please."
Gabriel took off the layers he was wearing, the school sweater, tie, and shirt sliding over his head. Madam Pomfrey had him turn around so she could easily reach his back, where what was sure to be an impressive bruise was faint along his side - or rather, it might have developed into one had it not already done do and begun healing as they walked to the hospital wing.
"That's quite a birth mark, Mr Potter," said Madam Pomfrey as Gabriel put his shirt back on. Gabriel glanced down to see what she was referring to, and saw a whitish mark the size of a quarter at the base of his ribcage.
"Mhm," he agreed, trying to disguise how his mind was rushing. How had he not noticed this before? Well, it wasn't like he got naked a whole lot, but still, something like that wasn't easy to miss!
Gabriel thought about it as he walked back to the dorm with Michael [there was no point in returning to the flying field] and suddenly got a chill as he realized what it was. Fingers absentmindedly traced the mark as Gabriel recalled the event that had trapped him in Harry Potter's body in the first place.
It wasn't a birthmark.
It was a scar.
Gabriel was sure that, had Madam Pomfrey been paying attention, she would have found a smaller, identical mark exactly opposite the first on the small of his back. He had no explanation for how it had suddenly appeared there, and no idea why he hadn't noticed it before now.
"You alright?" Michael was giving Gabriel an anxious look, fiddling with nir hands anxiously.
"I'm fine," said Gabriel idly, pretending to be fascinated with the pictures on the wall. Now there was another question added to the first challenge he'd found - where did the scar come from? Or if it had been there the whole time, why hadn't he noticed it?
Gabriel flipped through his books during lunch, trying to figure out Potions further. It wasn't like Snape was going to teach them anything useful. Gabriel was about to turn the page in the ingredients section, when something caught his eye. It was the entry for asphodel.
Gabriel read the entry with growing astonishment, then flipped through to find what was written under wormwood. He didn't understand at first, but then the two entries combined in his head and Gabriel let out a soft 'oh' of surprise.
He closed the book and laid it carefully on the table, and wondered how Snape knew Lily Potter, and why he'd felt the need to speak in code to someone who, for all intents and appearances, was eleven years old.
I'm gonna end it there.
For those of you wondering, the Snape thing refers to the symbolic meanings of asphodel ['my regrets follow you to the grave', also means a type of Lily] and wormwood [absence, bitter sorrow] which when combined could mean 'I bitterly regret Lily's death. IT's taken as fanon that that's what Snape meant when he asked all those questions.
Read and review, please! You got a super long chapter this time!