And we've officially hit over 1050 reviews! I honestly think I didn't think I'd ever get this popular. Anyway, thank you all!
Yes, I know the last chapter focused a lot on the angels, but for now we're moving back to the Potterverse. Sort of. In the later half of the chapter. I wrote this author's not before most of the chapter. *Cough* Anyway, it's mostly because I want to bring Adam back into the story and come on, medical degree notwithstanding, if he's a Potter nerd he's going to do his best to convince Gabriel to let him see Hogwarts.
I hope you weren't too disappointed by Gabriel and Castiel's little chat last chapter, but it is Supernatural. What kind of proper fanfiction would this be without a fuckton of angst?
Anyway.
And guys, please: It ANYONE in any chapter notices that I've fucked up Michael's pronouns, please let me know! Whenever I reread this story I always come across a couple 'he's or 'him's/'his's. If you see one, send me a message or leave a review to let me know!
This has taken a while to get up, I know, but I've managed to start writing two other stories in addition to this one and I want to keep updating those semi-regularly as well.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter
Gabriel almost left the next morning, having no desire to hang around with the Winchesters any longer than necessary, especially with Dean still glaring holes into his head over the whole Michael thing.
Like it was his fault.
But he also knew that Dean still had the Mark of Cain.
"You're planning to do what, exactly?"
"I'm making it up as I go along," Gabriel said, eyeing the mark distastefully even though it was mostly concealed under one of Dean's many shirts. His Father may have put it there, but Cain had been a Knight for so long that it had been warped and changed.
That was probably the only reason he'd managed to pass it off to Dean in the first place.
"Well, that's incredibly reassuring," Dean snarked, tugging his sleeve down his arm to cover the mark more fully, having no doubt noticed what Gabriel was looking at.
"Like you've got any other options," Gabriel shot back. "What the hell made you want to accept that in the first place?"
"Abbadon," Sam said by way of explanation. "Only the First Blade could kill her, so-"
"Or my blade," Gabriel grumbled. "Morons. Six months ago I left that message, and no one takes advantage of it. See if I ever do anything for you again."
"Aren't you right now?"
"Shut up, Dean." Gabriel almost interrupted the hunter, not caring if the latter was offended. "You're telling me you seriously couldn't do anything else about Abbadon?"
"Nothing that she wouldn't see coming," muttered Sam.
Gabriel sighed. "Let's just get this show on the road before some other horror gets accidentally resurrected." When the Winchesters were involved, he didn't doubt that it might actually happen.
Cain didn't take long to show up.
Probably because he would have known the minute Gabriel got within fifty miles of the place - an archangel at full power was hard to miss.
The light flicked on, and Gabriel didn't bother to grin at Cain from his position lounging in one of the latter's chairs. "Cain. I kinda hoped I wouldn't have to deal with you again."
"It wasn't you the first time, unless you changed my memories." Cain still dressed like it was the nineteenth century, but he only stood warily in the doorway. "What are you doing here?"
"Mostly, about him." Gabriel jerked a thumb over to the sofa, where both Winchesters were sitting. Dean looked sullen, while Sam appeared interested despite himself, wary yet studying Cain with an intense, thoughtful expression.
"You mean the Mark." Cain looked resigned.
"Yes." Gabriel stood up casually, but the lights flickered and the door closed itself with a solid click behind Cain. The taller man didn't turn around.
"Giving your Mark away..." Gabriel began slowly, taking a few steps to circle around the small end table and closer to Cain. "To Dean Winchester, of all people. I don't know why - or how - and I can't say I'm interested in hearing whatever explanation you can cook up."
"Good." Cain hadn't moved an inch, but his eyes had followed Gabriel's every movement. "I wasn't planning on explaining myself to you."
"Then we're in agreement." Gabriel stopped when he was standing a comfortable distance away and in front of Cain.
"What are you really here for?" Cain could be so mistrustful, but like the Winchesters, he had a good reason.
"The Mark's your punishment, Cain." Gabriel said flatly. "Not Dean Winchester's." Both brothers were watching the exchange intently by now.
"They need it. He does." Cain corrected himself, or maybe clarified for Gabriel's benefit.
"Really?" Gabriel arched an eyebrow, pointedly skeptical. "For the First Blade, if I remember correctly."
"For Abbadon."
"Ah yes, your fellow Knight." Cain's face twisted momentarily at being grouped with Abbadon, but Gabriel caught the movement, however brief. "What's the matter, no friendly feelings for your old bandmates?"
"I don't have any love for Abbadon. Or the others." Cain's face had retained some of the tightness that had passed over it when Gabriel first mentioned Abbadon.
"The others?" Gabriel snorted. "Those long-dead bastards? Who cares about them?"
Cain's expression was carefully blank, and Gabriel wondered about the ramifications of the purposeful neutrality.
This was dragging on longer than he'd anticipated. Gabriel huffed out a breath, made a split decision and grabbed Cain's wrist - the one on the arm that used to bear the Mark.
Cain jerked backwards slightly in surprise, but his arm stayed firmly in Gabriel's grip - archangel outranked Knight, however closely in this particular situation.
"Dean," Gabriel said sharply. "Get over here."
"What are you planning to do?" Dean approached warily, Sam close behind him, despite the fact that even if he'd stayed sitting he and Dean would never have been further than five feet apart.
"Just shut up." Gabriel's other, unoccupied hand shot out and grabbed Dean's wrist as well, dragging him forward.
"Hey! What are-" Dean's sentence was interrupted as Gabriel pinned his hand down on the table, trapping Cain's on top of it so that they were curled together in a mockery of a handshake, or at least a tenuous grip.
Cain was watching darkly, but he'd made no further attempts to get away, which only put Gabriel further on edge. Cain had given the Mark away freely - why accept it back just as easily?
Dean shouted out as Gabriel began, Grace creeping up the former's arm, stretching unerringly towards the Mark. Dean tried to clamp his other hand over the Mark, which almost looked to be glowing, but he snatched it away in the next moment like he'd touched a hot stove. Dean gritted his teeth together and instead clamped his free hand on Sam's shoulder, as if to keep himself steady.
Meanwhile, Gabriel continued on with his original goal. He reached towards the Mark with his Grace, almost flinching away when he came into contact with it, but forcing himself to persevere. As his Grace wrapped around it, on Dean's arm it looked like the Mark was being absorbed.
Sweat had broken out on Dean's forehead, his grip on Sam looked painfully tight, and he exhaled sharply as Gabriel yanked, dragging the Mark slowly but surely off his arm and towards where his and Cain's hands were joined.
The demonic energy of the Mark was burning at Gabriel, and he was wincing too as he continued on. Thinking quickly - if he lost his focus, Gabriel would have to do the whole thing over again, and he didn't want to give Cain a chance to do anything - Gabriel pushed harder at it, pushing past the blackness and red smoke of the mark to the center.
It undeniably had his Father's touch to it, but Gabriel didn't dare stop to linger over the faint trace, and as he pushed the Mark [now just mixed red and white lines of light moving down Dean's arm] further, it leaked red smoke onto the table which dissipated before it could touch the varnished wood.
In a few moments that seemed to last both decades and only a second or two, the Mark washed up Cain's arm much more easily than it had left Dean's, and reformed. It was perhaps a little paler than it used to be, but Gabriel just let go and stood back, more tired out than he'd expected to be.
The Mark was old, that much he knew, but maybe he'd forgotten just how old.
Cain was rubbing his arm, a resentful look in his eyes, while Sam was hovering over Dean, who had put out a hand to steady himself on the nearest chair.
"What the hell was that?" Dean panted.
"A 'thanks' wouldn't go wrong about now," Gabriel suggested dryly.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked his brother, darting a glance at Gabriel.
"I'll live." Dean straightened, steadying himself surprisingly fast, and Gabriel made a valiant attempt to shake off his exhaustion and stood a little straighter.
Turning towards Cain slightly, Gabriel gave him a wary look. "Why'd you bring up the other knights?"
Cain's arm dropped. "You brought up Abbadon." He walked towards the window, moving in front of a small bookshelf on his way there.
"Yeah, and you mentioned the other Knights. Why?" Gabriel still felt like something was off about the situation.
"And why..." Cain reached towards the bookshelf. "Should I explain myself to you?"
What a drama queen. Gabriel turned around.
"What're you-" Sam's expression changed in a heartbeat. "Gabriel!"
Gabriel whirled around and was given only a split second to process that Cain was lunging at him, jaw-blade in hand and weren't the Winchesters supposed to have gotten rid of that fucking thing.
Gabriel instinctively jumped out of the way, nearly tripping over the coffee table in the process, but the blaze of sudden pain along his side told him he hadn't quite managed to avoid it.
"You sonuva bitch!" With Dean's shout the world abruptly snapped back to regular speed, and Gabriel had no idea that the weird slow-motion thing in movies could happen in real life, but the rest of his mind was too occupied with ow and fuck did I just fall onto the coffee table that's embarrassing to pay much attention to the thought.
His next thought, as he noticed Cain [with a bloody blade] looking furious and standing over him was now would probably be a good time to leave.
He almost forgot to bring Sam and Dean with him.
Gabriel landed awkwardly sprawled against a wall somewhere in the bunker [at least he'd managed to get to the right place], and felt a mild spasm of irritation that somehow, in whatever way possible, whatever deity watched over angels seemed determined to give him as little control over his wings as possible.
Maybe his Dad was screwing with him.
"Gabriel?" The yell was faint, and the short conversation that followed even fainter, but Gabriel could make out two distinct voices, shortly joined by a third - Castiel.
"What's going on?"
"What's...that Cain freaked out...stab Gabriel!"
"Where...?"
"...don't know."
"Gabriel?"
"Hey, yell if you can hear us!" That was definitely Dean.
"Fuck you!" Gabriel shouted back, one arm clamped over the side of his torso. The blade had caught him right under his vessel's ribcage, and Gabriel only hoped that it wasn't as deep as it felt.
He was probably bleeding all over the floor - and his jacket - but the state of the Bunker was the last thing Gabriel felt like being worried about.
"Gab-" Sam walked through the doorway and stopped dead. "Holy - Dean!"
"What?" Dean raced through behind Sam, closely followed by a pale Castiel. "Shit!"
"Glad you're so concerned," Gabriel grumbled, shifting slightly and using the nearest bookshelf and his free hand to drag himself further into a sitting position.
"No, I - I don't think you should be moving." Sam held up a hand, the universal stop signal, and wasn't it adorable that he thought he could tell Gabriel what to do. He actually looked fairly worried, which was gratifying.
Gabriel cracked a grin. "Aw, I'm flattered. You guys do care."
"Of course we do." Castiel looked briefly confused.
"You gonna help me out, then, or keep sitting there? I'm kinda bleeding everywhere." Gabriel retorted.
Castiel reached out a hand. "Can you move your arm?"
Well, shit. Bracing himself, Gabriel gritted his teeth and tried not to wince as moving his arm relieved the pressure on the area and set off new sparks of pain over his torso.
Luckily, Castiel was quick. Unluckily, all he could do was stop Gabriel leaking blood all over the place.
"That was quick," Dean said warily.
"It's not that simple," Castiel explained, watching Gabriel with worry etched into the lines of his vessel's face. "The vessel is easily enough repaired, but..."
"I'm still hurt, is what he's trying to say," Gabriel filled in, slumping back against the shelf which he now realized was incredibly uncomfortable. "Can't do shit about an angel blade wound."
"That wasn't an angel blade." Sam stated, confusion creeping over his face.
"I am aware, Sasquatch, considering I was just stabbed with the fucking First Blade." Gabriel leveled a glare at the other three. "Any of you want to explain why it's in Cain's hands?"
Sam and Dean glanced at each other, both appearing to be at a loss, and then a flash of understanding flashed over Sam's face, followed by disgust. "Crowley," he spat.
"Crowley?" Dean and Gabriel asked at the same time, an odd bit of synchronity that left Gabriel feeling off-kilter. He was never doing that again.
"You gave Crowley the first blade?" Gabriel asked, sitting up again to look at Sam incredulously. "How many bad decisions is it possible to make?"
Sam barely flinched at the criticism. "I was trying to keep it away from Dean."
"So you gave it to a demon," Gabriel said flatly. "A demon who happens to be King of Hell, and who you apparently trust beyond measure."
"I don't trust Crowley, it's just-" Distaste and frustration were prominent on Sam's face. "He was the only option."
"Oh, of course. Absolutely no other options." Gabriel's voice hardened. "Except for maybe me!"
Sam didn't seem to have an answer for that.
Gabriel bent forward in an attempt to get up and then collapsed backwards again, swearing profusely under his breath. "Fucking Cain."
Castiel offered him a hand and Gabriel took it, neither of them pointing out that his sleeve was soaked in blood along one side and Gabriel letting his little brother haul him to his feet with a wince and a little more swearing.
If anyone noticed that Gabriel kept a hand on the bookshelf to steady himself - and they had to have done so - no one pointed that out either.
"I can take care of this," Castiel muttered, and Dean looked relieved to have an excuse to leave the room. Sam followed, if less exuberantly. Gabriel and Castiel were left alone.
"Ugh." Gabriel made his way over to the nearest chair and eased down into it, trying not to aggravate his side. "Why is it that whenever I help out the Winchesters I end up getting stabbed?"
"Are you alright?" Castiel still looked worried. "Did I-"
"Calm down, Castiel, you did fine." Gabriel pulled up his shirt. "I don't see anything - well, there's still a hole there and blood all over this jacket, but I'm pretty sure you weren't talking about that."
"What about Dean?"
"Your boyfriend's fine too."
"He's not-" Gabriel could swear that Castiel had started blushing.
"Oh, puh-lease, Cas, spare me the denials." Gabriel gave Castiel a really? stare. "You two have been dancing around each other for years."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Castiel muttered, and he was definitely blushing now.
"Suuuuure."
"I don't. Besides, Dean's not-"
"Ha!" Gabriel sat up abruptly, hand flinging out to point one finger accusingly at Castiel. "Ow, fuck." He probably shouldn't have sat up that quickly. "You do admit it!"
"What?" Gabriel had taken his brother thoroughly off-guard. "I didn't-"
"'Dean's not interested', is that what you were going to say?" Gabriel demanded. "Oh please, bro, you must be blind."
"No, my eyes are working perfectly-"
"It's an expression."
"Regardless," Castiel said tightly, "Dean has never shown any interest in the same gender. This vessel-"
"Pssh." Gabriel scoffed. "Screw that. Dean is so deep in the closet, he's halfway through Narnia by now, that doesn't mean he's not interested!"
"How would you know?"
"Are you joking?" Gabriel looked Castiel straight in the eyes. "Cas, the only ones who haven't realized it are you two. You're not exactly subtle."
"I don't think - Dean - it's not allowed."
"Nephilim aren't allowed," Gabriel corrected him. "Your vessel's a dude. Last time I checked, two guys can't have biological kids."
"That's not-"
"That's exactly what the rule is. Did Dad ever explicitly say that angels couldn't love humans? No."
Castiel swallowed nervously. "Do you really think..." He seemed to loose his nerve.
Gabriel groaned. "Cassie. Come on! Would I be sitting here encouraging you if I didn't think you had a chance?"
"Possibly."
Gabriel considered this. "Eh, maybe. But not something like this." Gabriel grinned at his brother. "Give it a chance! I bet he won't turn you down."
"...Thank you."
"There's enough sexual tension between you two to suffocate someone. Believe me, I'm doing myself a favor, too."
"Hey."
"He - oh my God!" Adam jumped in his seat, the book in his hands falling to the floor with a thump. "What happened to you?"
Gabriel glanced down at himself, realizing that while his shirt was black, his jacket was not and he'd forgotten to clean it. "Whoops." It was lucky Adam was the only person in the room.
Snap. "Better?" Gabriel spread his arms, ignoring the twinge that shot across his torso at the movement but quickly putting them pack down.
Adam was still staring at him. "Any particular reason you're covered in blood?"
"Past tense, I think."
"Fine. Were? Is there a reason you're such a stickler for grammar now?"
Gabriel shrugged. "Three kids in the house still learning English, you learn to pick up on the little things."
"Are you going to actually answer my question?"
"Yes, there is a reason, but I don't feel like sharing."
Adam huffed, but only bent down to pick up his book again. "Where were you?"
"With your bros." Gabriel settled himself onto the sofa, perching with his feet tucked under himself. "I have no idea how they manage to get involved in so much shit, but they do."
"Yeah." Adam looked down at his book, but more as if to avoid looking at Gabriel than any intent to actually read it. "I'm aware."
Of course he was aware. If Gabriel remembered correctly, the kid had been dragged out of Heaven and back into this whole mess just because Dean wouldn't cooperate.
Whatever answer he was about to muster was lost when a phoenix appeared on the table.
Gabriel stopped and stared, and Adam dropped his book again. "Holy shit," The latter whispered almost reverently. "Is that a phoenix?"
"Yep. What's it..." Gabriel trailed off as he noticed the letter in the bird's beak. "Oh. Hey, Dumbledore has a phoenix, right?" He distinctly remembered another letter being delivered in a similar manner the previous year.
"Yeah, Fawkes." Adam had sat up straighter and was watching the phoenix in astonishment. "Do you normally get letters like this?"
"From Dumbledore? Yeah, but not often." Gabriel peeled the seal off the parchment - and really, it was weird that he'd actually gotten used to doing so in the last few years - and unfolded the letter.
"What's it say?"
"Nosy much? He wants to talk." Which was weird, because Dumbledore didn't seem like the type to send a letter just to have a chat. What was so important that this had to happen now?
"He sent you a letter just to say that?" Adam seemed to share Gabriel's mindset.
"It says 'asap', in not so many words." Gabriel folded the parchment back up almost absentmindedly. "Wonder what's so important?"
"Why don't you go see?"
"Well, I could, but that would give the impression that I have nothing better to do than answer a wizard's summons."
Adam actually rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that's the last thing he's going to think - if anyone would understand that you can't control an archangel, it would be Dumbledore. Besides, if he put that you should come soon, it's probably important."
"How important could it be?"
"It could have to do with Voldemort." Adam suddenly looked shifty. "Um - you are dealing with him, righ-"
"Yes, Adam, you haven't 'spoiled' anything for me." Gabriel's tone made physical airquotes unnecessary. He stood up, wincing momentarily and nearly putting his hand to his side, but Gabriel resisted the urge. "In any case, if he's sending it with the superfast bird then it probably is something important."
"Who was saying all that about not going a minute ago?" Adam said, looking bewildered.
"I said I could, and if I don't go and see what's up I might end up missing some giant, necessary bit of information that Dumbledore hasn't seen fit to share with the rest of his order." Gabriel snorted. "I'm sure he's got plenty of secrets hanging around."
"Couldn't you just..." Adam made a vague gesture. "Read his mind? Angels do that, right?"
"You may have met my ruder siblings," Gabriel said dryly, "But I prefer not to invade people's personal space without permission."
Adam looked away, but he didn't apologize.
"I'll be back later, I suppose," Gabriel said, spinning on one heel and nimbly - at least, for someone who not an hour ago had been bleeding from a chest wound - avoiding crashing into the corner of the sofa. "See ya."
He took off before his other foot hit the ground.
Dumbledore was in his office, as Gabriel had expected, and the moment or so after Gabriel arrived in a flutter of wings Fawkes appeared on their perch in a burst of fire.
Dumbledore jumped at neither sudden occurrence. "So you did get my letter," He said genially. "I was hoping you would, though most people would knock."
"Knocking's for losers," Gabriel replied. "And you're an exception. I don't usually come when 'summoned'." This time Gabriel did use air quotes, to get the point across.
"Of course, and I'm glad you did." Dumbledore leaned forward, one hand nudging something on his desk forward. "I have something I thought might interest you."
Curious, Gabriel stepped forward to get a better view of the thing on the desk, and let out a whistle.
"Well, then." He hadn't expected Dumbledore to ask him to come over just to hand over the third Hallow, but Gabriel wasn't about to turn it away. The stone was bleeding Death's magic all over the place, attached to a simple gold band that Gabriel was pretty sure was not a part of the Hallow, since none of Death's artifacts would have allowed one of Voldemort's soul...things to attach itself to them.
Glancing up at Dumbledore, Gabriel opened his mouth to speak when he noticed the headmaster's blackened right hand. "Whoa. Where'd that come from?"
Dumbledore saw where his eyes had gone and smiled, shaking the sleeve of his robe further over his hand. "Merely an unfortunate accident."
"That's one hell of an accident. Magical, right?" Gabriel guessed.
"Indeed." Dumbledore's smile became rather grim. "This ring had...quite the curse on it, and I did not realize until too late."
"Innteresting." Gabriel picked the ring up, plucking the dark stone from the band easily in front of Dumbledore's astonished eyes and forgoing it in favor of examining the band itself.
"What are you-"
"Huh," Gabriel mused to himself, ignoring Dumbledore. "He must have tried to attach this to the ring itself, but obviously it didn't take to the stone...I assume you know what this is."
"Yes. The Resurrection Stone." Dumbledore replied quietly.
"The Res-" Gabriel's eyes darted to the stone sitting innocuously on the desk, and then to Dumbledore's mostly covered and blackened hand. "Oh. You put the ring on, didn't you?"
Dumbledore's smile was full of emotion - and not good ones. "I am only human," He said by way of answer. May I ask how you know about-"
"The bit of Voldemort in this ring band?" Gabriel held up the aforementioned bit of jewelry. "Run into something like it a couple times before. If you know about it, though, why haven't you told your Order?" Gabriel had no idea his random guess would be so spot on.
"I could not risk Voldemort learning that I had discovered his Horcruxes."
"His what now? Oh, you mean these things. That's seriously what they're called?" Gabriel peered at the band.
"Yes." Dumbledore had gone grave - how many emotions could a human feel in one short talk? "It is a portion of a human soul placed in an independent container-"
"Well, that's a load of bullshit."
"Excuse me?" Dumbledore had probably never heard someone swear like that in front of him, much less an angel, but Gabriel didn't really care.
"A portion of a soul?" Gabriel scoffed. "You can't just rip up a soul and put the pieces in little boxes or whatever the hell you want. You can't rip up a soul, period. They can be tortured, bent, mutilated even - but never broken. I don't know who came up with that idea, but they obviously had no idea what they were doing."
"They must have had some semblance of an idea, otherwise that would not be here and the inventor of the ritual would never have succeeded in creating it." Dumbledore indicated the tarnished gold band. "Voldemort has used these before. I believe they may have allowed him to escape death after he failed - after the incident at the Potters'."
Gabriel hmmed in thought. "Well, this is obviously something - I did wonder, how a wizard managed to do something that should be impossible, but it must be more complicated than that."
"You seem very sure."
Gabriel gave Dumbledore a Look. "You may be magic," He said dryly, "But you're only human. There are laws in this universe even I can't break, and souls are one of them."
"Then what do you think it is?" Dumbledore propped his hands up, moving the injured one gingerly, and actually looked interested in whatever answer Gabriel had.
The answer was a shrug. "Hell if I know," Gabriel replied. "I have been around a while, but you've actually been in this wizarding world longer than me. I don't know that much about your magic. Why do you think I agreed to come to this school in the first place?"
"...I see. Pardon an old man for asking," Dumbledore questioned, "But how many of these have you encountered?"
"A few." Gabriel thought. "That diary. The snake that tried to kill the Weasley dude. And this ring, of course."
"I see."
"You think he made more?"
"I think it's very likely." Dumbledore say back in his chair, and Gabriel absentmindedly flipped the gold band in his hand.
"Do you know where?"
"Unfortunately, no." Dumbledore watched in fascination as Gabriel caught the gold band and squeezed his hand into a fist. There was a puff, a faint scream, and a sprinkle of gold dust that rained down on the carpet when Gabriel opened his hand again. "But I have been looking."
"Sure you don't need help with your hand?" He commented casually.
"Help?" Dumbledore seemed startled by the offer.
"Yeah. I mean, that seems like a pretty stubborn kind of magic-" Gabriel indicated the blackened hand. "And I may not be the best at it compared to some, but I can still do.." he reached over the table and laid two fingers on the hand, the blackness receding almost immediately. "...This."
Dumbledore examined his now perfectly fine hand in a mixture of fascination and almost shock. "How convenient," Was all he said.
Gabriel shrugged again. "Comes with the position," He said, and turned to go, then paused when Dumbledore called out.
"Wait-"
"Yes?"
"There is one more question I wanted to ask you - something I wanted to make sure of before term started." Dumbledore seemed to have sobered.
Gabriel spread his arms, once more ignoring the twinge in his side. "Ask away."
"Regarding what happened at the end of last year, in the Ministry. Where some Death Eaters apparently addressed you as Loki, who caused the mischief here last year, and you answered in the affirmative." Dumbledore folded his hands on his desk, peering over his spectacles at Gabriel. "Or so those who saw it tell me."
Gabriel almost lied.
Almost.
He grinned, half apologetically and half smirking. "You'd probably like to hear me say that I lied to play for time, wouldn't you?"
Dumbledore seemed to simultaneously slump in his chair and grow stiffer and more imposing. "I had hoped that they heard wrong," He said frostily. "Are you Loki, then, or are you Gabriel?"
"Both." Gabriel kept grinning. "Why not? I was Gabriel first, and then I decided to be Loki."
"So Loki is your disguise."
"More or less."
Dumbledore's brow furrowed. "The the Trickster that I spoke to last year-"
"Was me."
Dumbledore's expression grew frosty. "You killed Professor Umbridge."
"Not much of a Professor, really, was she?" Gabriel leaned against the door behind him. "Yes."
"Why?"
"Why?" Gabriel asked incredulously, overdoing it to see if he could make Dumbledore feel guilty. "Do you pay any attention to what goes on in this school at all? When students started coming back from detentions with her with the lines they wrote carved into their fucking hands, I decided it was time to intervene."
"But murder-"
Gabriel groaned, sagging against the door. "Oh, spare me the morality talk. In case you didn't notice, you've got no grounds to stand on while you lecture me, Mr. Keeping-Secrets-From-The-Orginization-I-Founded."
"It was necessary-"
"So was Umbridge's death. How else was she going to leave Hogwarts?" Gabriel snapped his fingers, and several of the portraits jumped - they had been watching the conversation avidly, forgetting to pretend to be asleep as they had been when Gabriel entered - but Dumbledore did not move. "You didn't do anything about it, so I did. Besides, Snape's alright, isn't he?"
"Was that 'necessary' as well?" Dumbledore inquired coldly.
"I was on a roll." If Dumbledore wanted the truth, he'd get it - sometimes it hit harder than any lie could.
Dumbledore was quiet for several minutes. "May I ask," He said eventually, "Why an archangel would lower themselves to the status of a pagan god? Surely that is lower than your original position."
"It was...convenient." Gabriel hesitated before answering.
"I see."
Gabriel almost smiled at Dumbledore's naiveté. "No, you don't, but go ahead and pretend."
Gabriel stepped closer to the desk and picked up the Resurrection Stone, and something must have shown in his expression because Dumbledore looked almost surprised.
"Never bothered to read that story," Gabriel muttered to himself, and Dumbledore surprised him by answering.
"The tale says that if you turn the stone thrice in your hand, and think of someone, they will appear before you."
Gabriel stared at the stone, and then wrenched his attention away and stared pointedly at the window, hoping that Dumbledore hadn't noticed the longing on his face and knowing that the man had.
Besides, the stone probably couldn't reach Valhalla anyway.
"Well, then." Gabriel waved over his shoulder and yes, he was purposely half-mocking Dumbledore now, but it was the man's own fault for bringing Loki up and therefore out. "I'll see you in September."
Merry Christmas update! It's 11:59 and therefore technically still Christmas. Rushing to post this. Read and review!