So.

I hope no one hates me for where I ended the last chapter.

Okay, let me start of by telling you that yes, the scene with the Mirror of Erised was necessary to the plot. Really, it was.

*Coughs and dodges something thrown from the audience* But we're continuing on now! There's another little scene with the ghosts in this chapter, and I'll try and get to a place where we're finally moving on to the action, or just the climax.

Another thing I've decided: I will put all the years Gabriel spends at Hogwarts in one place. This won't end after first year and there'll be no sequel - we shall simply continue on to second [my god I just remembered Lockhart and started laughing]

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter

Michael must have noticed something the next morning, but ne didn't say anything about it to Gabriel's face. Ne did seem to pay an inordinate amount of attention to him, though, and Michael wrote a long letter which ne refused to tell Gabriel anything about in the common room that night.

Winter break, for the most part, continued on as normal. Gabriel didn't tell Michael about the mirror, but he did show nir the cloak.

"An invisibility cloak!" Michael had gasped. "That's amazing! Where did your dad get it?"

Gabriel shrugged as he folded the cloak and put it back in his trunk.

"It's in really good condition, too," Michael said. "Someone must have renewed the charms on it."

Gabriel hummed his agreement, while wondering if the spellwork he'd sensed on it had anything to do with how long the cloak had retained its power.

The most interesting event of the holiday occurred only a few days before school was due to start again.

Peeves got his attention in the corridor one day, while Gabriel was walking alone.

"Psst!" Gabriel glanced around and saw the poltergeist drifting in the corner, beckoning nervously. Gabriel walked over, wondering what he wanted.

"What?"

Peeves cleared his throat, which was really very unnecessary considering he was dead. "I've been asked to give you a message," he said quietly. Gabriel wasn't aware he was capable of anything lower than a lecture hall level of volume. "The ghosts are meeting - they.." he trailed off and then seemed to steel himself for the next bit. "They'd like you to come. We've been wondering about your...intentions here."

"Oh." Honestly, Gabriel was surprised they were that organized. "Sure, then. Where are they?"

Peeves led him through a mess of hallways, taking routes that led away from the occupied areas of the castle and high into one of the towers. There was a door at the top, the handle dusty with disuse, and Peeves floated right through it. Gabriel turned the handle while touching as little of it as possible and opened the door.

The room was absolutely stuffed with ghosts. Gabriel could barely see the other side, so it was lucky they'd found a space big enough. There were the four House ghosts he'd been told about, plus Peeves, and several others dressed in clothing from various periods. There was even the ghost of a girl in a Hogwarts uniform, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

"Ah," said the Gryffindor ghost, Sir Nick. "I see you've come! Er - welcome."

"Thanks." Gabriel kicked the door shut, stirring up a cloud of dust. "What's this meeting about?"

"Well-" Nick looked severely discomfited, and the other ghosts weren't much better. "It's an annual thing, really, to consider how things are going as a whole in Hogwarts. We, ah, were merely wondering about your intentions in the school-"

"I'm not here to send anyone on to the afterlife, if that's what you're wondering."

They all relaxed simultaneously. "Excellent news, then," Nick said cheerily. "May I ask - how did you end up as Harry Potter?"

"Accident," Gabriel said shortly. "Believe me, if I could leave I would. I assume one of you is from the Founder's era and recognized what I am?"

"Yes." This time it was a female ghost who spoke up, one Gabriel hadn't seen before. "I have seen your kind before. My mother-"

"Wait, your mother?" Gabriel stood up straight and looked right at her. "Mother? You're related to Ravenclaw?"

She seemed put off by his eagerness. "How did you guess?"

"Oh this is excellent!" Gabriel almost jumped on the spot. "You have to tell me - did she leave anything behind? Any directions, to a secret room maybe, something she wouldn't trust to anyone outside the family?"

The Ravenclaw ghost froze. "You are another one of them," she said heavily. "Seeking it for your own gain."

"Wha- no," Gabriel said forcefully. "Look, just tell me if she told you anything about it!"

The tension in the room returned tenfold. The other ghosts started to edge away from Ravenclaw, and her eyes were wide. When she spoke, her voice was heavy with bitterness.

"I fought with my mother," she said. "I do not think she would have told me any secrets. But I did know that she had a secret she kept from the other Founders. I saw her writing something, once, and as she finished she enchanted the parchment so that the words were rearranged into meaningless runes." The ghost paused, then continued. "I never found her room, but I knew what she intended to hide - the diadem, her legacy, or so she called it. I-"

She faltered slightly, then steeled herself to continue. "I took the diadem," she said, forcing the words out. "I ran off with it and did not return. When my mother fell ill-" and Gabriel frowned at that, because an angel getting sick? "-She sent the Baron after me. He was man who had desired my hand in life, and my mother must have known that he would not rest."

Gabriel saw her hesitance. "No, it's - you don't have to go that far. Just...what did you do with the diadem?"

"I hid it," she said spitefully, and Gabriel's heart sank. "In a forest in Albania. I never went back to retrieve it."

Great.

"It wouldn't happen to still be there, would it?"

"No." Of course it wouldn't.

"Wait - how do you know?"

He could see her hesitance. "There was - another. Many years ago. He was kind, charismatic, and I thought-"

"Okay. Right." Gabriel paced in a circle, aware of the silvery specters giving him nervous looks. "This is just perfect."

"What do you want with Ravenclaw's diadem?" The student ghost asked curiously, seemingly more bold than her fellows.

Gabriel sighed. "Well, you saw that Ravenclaw was like me. Turns out, she took something of our sibling's - that crown's not just enchanted, it's a weapon." He saw Ravenclaw turn a lighter shade of silver. "I was hoping to find it before someone else did."

"I am sorry." Ravenclaw did look rather guilty, but it was mostly hidden behind a mask of indifference. "If I had known-"

"It's all done now, there's no use apologizing." Gabriel tapped his fingers against his leg, his energy seeking an outlet. "But - if the diadem's really missing, then what's under that dog in the third floor corridor?"

"We do not know." The Friar spoke, his usual smile reappearing. "The Headmaster didn't make it known to us! But there are many protections guarding whatever it is."

"Thanks." Gabriel exhaled loudly. Things had, very suddenly, gotten a lot more complicated. "Uh, you, Ravenclaw - who was the other guy you told about this? If you don't mind."

She seemed surprised at his politeness. "His name was Tom Riddle."

Gabriel didn't recognize it. "Okay. Thanks." He turned to leave. "I suppose you're all safe from Heavenly wrath and all that nonsense...not like you weren't in the first place. Oh, and Peeves?" Gabriel stuck his head back through to door. The other ghosts had all abruptly moved away from the poltergeist.

"Yes?" There was a quaver in his voice.

"Try to avoid getting the first years lost. They really don't need the help."

As soon as he was far away enough to stop the ghosts from fleeing in terror, Gabriel swore violently and kicked the wall for good measure.

The diadem was gone?!

Who the hell Tom Riddle was, Gabriel didn't know, but he mentally put him first on his mental list of 'people to fuck with'. That diadem was more powerful than he could possibly imagine, and now thanks to a mother-daughter spat it was completely out of his reach!

Gabriel kicked the wall again. Then he looked around and guiltily repaired the cracks he'd made in the stone. Continuing down the hall, his mind spun with ideas.

The corridor was a no-go, as the diadem obviously wasn't there. Ravenclaw's daughter had said she hid it in an Albanian forest, but if Tom Riddle had gotten there first [maybe he'd given up on the vague directions and it was still there, said the little voice in Gabriel's head that was always wrong] then there was no telling where it might be now.

And a weapon of Heaven in a teenager's hands...well, there probably wasn't much left of him.

If he had managed to draw a reaction out of it at all, or even find it. Ravenclaw the younger may not have managed to lay any protection over it, but that did not mean whatever it was had allowed this Tom to find it.

Gabriel found himself in front of the door to the common room, the eagle knocker waiting patiently.

"Um, sorry, could you repeat that?" It had obviously already given him a riddle. The eagle repeated it, and Gabriel answered absentmindedly, walking up to the common room with half a mind still on the problem of the diadem.

The first thing Gabriel saw was that his dorm was empty. The second was that the papers in Enochian were still strewn on his bedside table, half stuffed into the drawer.

Resentment and frustration surged through him at the sight of the damn papers which he'd taken so long trying to decode only to discover that they were worth nothing. With a yell Gabriel swept them off the table, parchment scattering and drifting in the air. Phrases darted in and out of view and Gabriel started snatching at them, smacking them out of the air and crumpling them.

He was left standing in a sea of wrinkled parchment, panting and a furious expression. Unbidden, he remembered the ghost's words, describing what had happened and how little she saw.

I saw her writing something, once, and as she finished she enchanted the parchment so that the words were rearranged into meaningless runes.

Meaningless runes...

Gabriel stooped and picked up one of the pieces of parchment. To anyone else, it would look like simply odd squiggles, or a made-up language. He remembered what Ollivander had said. Something was nagging at Gabriel, some connection he hadn't quite yet made.

OH!

The runes! They had been in English when Ravenclaw wrote them! That was why Gabriel couldn't crack the code - he was working in the wrong language! Gabriel quickly gathered up the parchment again, tossing it onto his bed and hurriedly pulling the curtains shut. It wouldn't do to be caught messing with something like this.

He spent the better part of three hours muttering over the parchment, trying to find a trace of whatever spell had magically translated it into Enochian. The parchment was old, very old, and any trace the enchantment had left behind had mostly decayed and fragmented, but Gabriel was determined to change it back, even if it meant dipping into his still-limited reserves.

The rest of the day came and went. People shuffled around in the dorm, but Gabriel was so occupied in his work that he didn't notice someone trying to get through the stuck-shut curtains on his bed.

As the light dimmed down the witch-lights Gabriel had put there on his first night blinked on, providing enough light that he barely slowed, wand tapping over the paper.

"Damnit," Gabriel growled as what felt like the fiftieth spell he tried revealed nothing. "There has to be a way!" He paused, an idea occurring to him. "Oh."

He stared at the paper, debating internally whether the results were worth the effort it would take to get them. Deciding that yes, they were, Gabriel took a deep breath to brace himself.

He pulled at the power in him, circling it around the papers in his hands. They lit up, Enochian runes glowing, and Gabriel felt for what he was looking for and bent, taking the time and history of the paper and pulling it in the opposite direction.

The parchment began to whiten, the yellow of age leaking away from the paper as if it were being pulled away towards the edges. The runes blackened, growing fresher with each passing second. Gabriel gave a savage yank upwards, and the paper fluttered into the air, as fresh as the day it was written.

The toll was visible. Gabriel slumped back against the headboard, propped at an awkward angle with the papers strewn over his lap. He felt himself sagging away, consciousness slipping out of his grasp, and his last thought was that whoever found him was going to have a hell of a time trying to explain the situation.

Something in front of him was very white. Gabriel blinked in bemusement - or at least he tried to. His eyes didn't seem to be responding.

Someone was talking next to him. Gabriel tried to turn his head to see who it was, but that didn't seem to be working either. Was something wrong with his vessel?

The events of the last night slipped foggily back into his brain. Gabriel groaned as he remembered the papers and the subsequent exhaustion, and hoped that the trace he was looking for had survived however long he was out.

The talking next to him stopped abruptly, and then resumed at an even louder tone. Gabriel winced as someone started talking in his ear, and did his best to shift away. The words gradually got clearer.

"...ry! Harry are you alright? Answer me!" That was definitely Hermione. There were two other people talking in the background, one of which was definitely deeper than the other - Gabriel guessed that this was Michael.

"Harry!" Gabriel managed to wrench his eyes open fully. Michael and Hermione were staring down at him with worried looks. He appeared to be in the hospital wing.

Hermione shrieked and choked him in a hug. Madam Pomfrey quickly disentangled her, saying "Ms. Granger! He's just woken up, give him some room!"

The two students watched from the sidelines as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Gabriel. "How are you feeling, Mr. Potter?"

Gabriel had to quickly revise his answer in his head before he swore. "Not great." He said, and coughed. When did his throat get so dry?

"Here!" Someone shoved a small glass on water in front of his face, which Gabriel took with arms that he had to struggle to use properly. Gabriel mentally took stock of himself, because 'not great' didn't even cover it.

His entire body seemed rebellious and shaky and refused to move properly.

His head hurt.

There was a scratch on his arm which stung slightly.

He didn't just feel 'not good'.

He felt human.

Gabriel felt slightly sick as he realized what exhausting his Grace entailed.

"Harry?" Michael was staring at him anxiously. Gabriel tried his best for a reassuring smile. He took a sip of the water, listening to the mediwitch as she spoke.

"You seem to be in relatively good condition," she said. "I still don't know what knocked you out in the first place, though. Do you have any allergies, or chronic illnesses?"

"No," Gabriel replied, setting the glass of water aside.

"Hmm." Madam Pomfrey studied him carefully. "Well, I'd have said that it was a classic case of magical exhaustion, except your core seems perfectly fine. Still, I'm giving you a pass for the rest of your classes this week, just in case. I'm sure Ms. Granger will be able to provide you with any missed assignments." She smiled at Hermione. "I'll leave you three to talk for a little."

Hermione looked a tiny bit tearful, but restrained herself from hugging Gabriel again, which he was grateful for. Michael didn't look any better.

"I thought you were..." he trailed off. "When you were in your bed...I finally got the curtains open and then you were just lying there and you wouldn't wake up...!"

"Sorry," said Gabriel, entirely sincere. The idea of Michael finding him like that hadn't occurred. Something he suddenly remembered made him try and sit up, but Hermione rushed to push him back down.

"The papers," said Gabriel, looking straight at them. "The ones I had. What happened to them?"

"That's what you're worried about?" Michael asked incredulously. "Not the fact that you've been out for three days?"

"Three days?" Gabriel glanced around, looking for some sort of calendar.

"We didn't think you were going to wake up," said Hermione softly. Gabriel began feeling a bit guilty.

"Well hey," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm awake now, right? And I'm...okay ish."

Michael nodded tightly, though ne didn't seem very reassured. "Right. You're okay."

Gabriel wasn't allowed out of the hospital wing for another two days, by which time the school week was half over. Everyone seemed curious as to what had happened to him, not just the other Ravenclaws, and Gabriel avoided answering any questions by taking refuge in his dorm. He spent a lot of time making up missed homework, as Michael had been delegated by Hermione to make sure he did all of it.

The papers were another problem. Gabriel still hadn't gotten them back, and he was determined to have not wasted his Grace. So on the Saturday after he left the hospital wing, Gabriel hauled himself out of bed and went to go see Flitwick.

Knock, knock, knock. "Come in!" Someone called, and the door creaked open without Gabriel touching it. Flitwick sat at his desk, bent over a sheaf of parchment.

He looked up, surprise on his face. "Mr. Potter! Please, sit down." Gabriel obliged, mainly because he still felt like being on his feet too long would make his fall over. Luckily, Flitwick's office was very close to the common room.

"Is there a reason you've come here?" The Charms professor was watching him carefully, no doubt looking for any sign of sickness. Gabriel made an effort to sit up straight.

Showtime.

Flitwick expected a nervous, slightly ill eleven year old, and Gabriel would give him that.

"It's about the papers I had," he said, pretending to fidget slightly in nervousness.. "When I got knocked out. I, um, didn't find them in my dorm room when I got back. Do you know if anyone took them?"

"Ah," Flitwick seemed to know what he was talking about. He rummaged in a desk drawer for a moment, and then withdrew a small stack of parchment tied together with a blue string. "Is this what you mean?"

"Yes!" Gabriel could see the Enochian runes, and it was obvious that the parchment was still fresh. His spell had lasted longer than he'd thought.

"I must say, these are very curious runes," said Flitwick, flipping through the papers. "I have found myself unable to identify them. Do you know the language?"

"No." Gabriel faked embarrassment, looking away from the professor. "They're...I just made them up. I, uh..." Think, you idiot! Think of something reasonable! "I was looking at the design on my wand, and I thought it looked a bit like runes, so I drew some of them and I just kept going." Gabriel scratched the back of his head. "It's not a proper language at all, really."

Flitwick seemed to believe him. "I see. Well, they look very interesting," he said, handing the sheaf over the desk to Gabriel. "I should like to see it, if it ever develops into a proper language."

"Sure," Gabriel mumbled, taking the stack and leaving the office quickly. He sagged against the door as soon as it closed, holding the parchment tightly. Thank Dad he didn't ask any more questions.

Standing up, Gabriel made his way back to the dorms. He didn't intend to wait any longer than he had to.

Unfortunately, the recent disaster ensured that the only tools at Gabriel's disposal were his wand and the magic he'd inherited from Harry.

Frowning, he readied his wand, raising it over the stack of parchment in his lap. Great, what now? It's not like I know a spell for the occasion. Maybe just intent will work, like with the troll?

Gabriel did his best to convey what he wanted. I need the translation spell to be gone. He tapped the parchment.

Nothing happened.

Of course.

It took three more tries for Gabriel to give up and go downstairs to look up spells for reversing other spells. Two hours and a helpful seventh-year later, he tried again, armed with Finite Incantatem.

I just hope there aren't any other important spells on here.

Gabriel flicked his wand, trying to copy the movement he'd been shown. "Finite Incantatem!" This was some of the worst Latin he'd ever seen.

It didn't work either.

"Finite Incantatem!"

Nothing.

"Come on, you stupid paper," Gabriel growled. "Stop being so obstinate! Finite Incantatem!"

Something surged down Gabriel's arm powerfully and forced itself out of his wand, blowing his hair back. The Enochian seemed to lift off the page with the force of the spell, and as it fluttered back down to retake its place on the parchment Gabriel saw with a thrill that it was in regular English.

Success! Now we're getting somewhere!

Gabriel hurriedly stuffed the paper in his bedside drawer as footsteps came up the stairs. Anthony Goldstein came into the dorm, looking surprised as he saw Gabriel half hanging off the bed.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." said Gabriel, his voice a bit muffled as he tried to pull himself back up. "This never happened."

"Okay?" Anthony sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "Sure you don't need any-"

"I'm fine!"

Success! I have finished it!

Let me say something funny: I started chapter nine, then somehow forgot it was chapter nine, saw the doc for chapter nine, made a new one for chapter ten, wrote all of this, then REMEMBERED chapter nine when I saw the document only had 28 words, then copied all this over and deleted everything in the chapter ten document.

Basically, a lot of unnecessary work went into this because I couldn't remember how many chapters my own story had.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed.

Read and review, as always!