Honestly, I'm just sort of hoping we can get to some of the main stuff in this chapter.

I really do apologize that not much happened in the last chapter, but I can't do much now. I have a very clear idea of where I want the story to go from here - be it in the spn!verse or the potterverse or a mix of the two - but I still need to build up to that and it's very difficult to do that when I have half of the next chapter already written in my mind.

[Is it a bad thing that I already know exactly how this story is going to end?]

In any case, I'll attempt to make this chapter more attention-grabbing, but I always write the author's notes before any of the actual content, so no guarantees there.

[A private warning for inukagome15; I'm going to get back at you for those cliffhangers...eventually. Just you wait. Apologies to any other readers who might be inconvenienced by these upcoming plot twists].

I apologize to anyone who might be put off by later developments, since in this chapter [mild spoiler] Michael finally runs into the Winchesters, who aren't exactly the most respectful of nir pronouns. I'm going to write in a correction as soon as reasonably possible to stop the Winchesters from being so accidentally rude [even if it is Michael because, come on, they don't really have the best relationship] but they wouldn't immediately *sense* Michael's preference for different pronouns and so they do call nem 'he' for the first bit of their encounter. So, sorry about that, but I'm really trying to be realistic here.

On that note, however, I do think once it was gotten across that Michael isn't a he, then neither of the Winchesters would really be rude enough to keep calling nem that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter

There was plenty of speculation as to how, exactly, Katie Bell had ended up in the hospital wing perfectly fine and with absolutely no memory of the preceding twenty-four hours, but not a single one was even close to being correct.

Of course, it's not like many students would guess angelic intervention.

The rumors surrounding the odd occurrence were in full swing, barely dying out even weeks after Katie was released from the hospital wing. Whoever had done it was either not in Hogwarts [more likely] or keeping their distance from Gabriel, because he hadn't been able to detect any malicious thoughts among what students he could without reading their mind.

And hey, minds were private. Even Gabriel respected that.

Most of the time, at least.

Another minor annoyance was Horace Slughorn, who had been brought back [again] to fill the vacancy left by Snape moving to the Defense position. Gabriel didn't like the man any more than he had last year - in fact, if anything, the elderly professor seemed to have gotten even more annoying.

He was constantly sending out invitations to influential or talented students - or at least that's what Hermione said, because Gabriel hadn't bothered to pay the least bit of attention to the little rolls of parchment being circulated every once in a while.

Hermione, it seemed, did not have this luxury.

"You don't have to go."

"I don't want to refuse, it would be impolite." Hermione said impatiently, voice at a whisper, since the two of them were currently in the library.

"Screw impolite," Gabriel scoffed. "If you don't want to go, don't go."

"You're oversimplifying this."

"Am I?" Gabriel raised one eyebrow. "What's so bad about the parties?"

"Well, they're not that bad - the one I went to, in any case." Hermione sighed. "But Ron keeps getting irritable about all of it, and all the other people there can be a bit stuffy."

"I don't get why you're still hanging around Ron." Gabriel shook his head, glancing down at the essay he was supposed to be working on.

"We're friends," Hermione said idly, flipping a page in her textbook.

"You're arguing half the time you're around each other."

"He can be annoying sometimes, but you can be too."

"Me?" Gabriel put a hand over his heart, leaning back in a dramatic display of [obviously] false offense. "Hermione, I'm hurt."

Hermione only rolled her eyes. "Slughorn keeps asking if you'll be able to come to the next one, you know."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I'd ask."

"Oh, come on. Now he'll actually be expecting me."

"You could just go."

"Why?" Gabriel snorted. "Please. I've got better things to do."

"Like what?" Hermione put down her quill, giving Gabriel an oh please look. "You don't seem like you're doing anything."

"Something might come up. I'm keeping a look out for anything weird happening." Gabriel shrugged, feeling the weight of the 'borrowed' phone in his pocket.

"Weird like what?" Hermione's brow creased. "I thought the reason you were so busy over the summer was because you were fixing things?"

"Yeah, but that takes more than just one summer, Hermione," Gabriel replied, the edge of a laugh mixed with something darker coloring his voice. "I'm kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop, honestly. It seems like it was almost too easy."

"You said you had problems, didn't you?"

Gabriel shrugged, spreading his hands slightly in an I don't know gesture. "I went in, found the problem, a bunch of us got together and solved it."

"It's not usually that easy? In Heaven, I mean?"

"It's never that easy anywhere."

Hermione worried at the feather of her quill absentmindedly, staring at it without seeming to really see it. "Katie wasn't involved in any of this, was she?"

Gabriel glanced up at Hermione. "No, that was just wizard stuff."

"So who did that?"

Gabriel shrugged. "Hard as it may be to believe, I don't know everything."

"But it was a wizard," Hermione pressed, continuing once Gabriel nodded. "Do you think it's connected to whatever Voldemort's doing?"

"It depends on whether he's recruiting teenagers now," Gabriel answered dryly. "And I kinda doubt that, so if it is connected to him it's someone working alone to try and gain favor."

"By what, Imperiusing a Gryffindor?" Hermione asked skeptically.

Gabriel's fingers tapped on the table, a random pattern that kept changing. "She said she had to take a message to Dumbledore."

Hermione, as soon as she understood Gabriel's meaning, looked horrified. "You don't think-"

"That a wannabe death eater would be desperate enough to curse someone and turn them into some sort of magical suicide bomber?" Gabriel shrugged. "Going off of what I've seen of Voldemort's goons before, it's pretty likely."

"She wouldn't have stood a chance." One of Hermione's hands had strayed to rest over her mouth. "Dumbledore's too powerful-"

"But he wouldn't be trying to hurt Katie," Gabriel remarked, mentally dismantling the plan. "Meanwhile, under the curse, she'd be throwing everything she had at him."

"That's horrible." Hermione breathed.

Gabriel shrugged again. "We're at war, Hermione. This kind of stuff isn't exactly gonna be uncommon."

"I wish it was."

Luckily, by the time the hypothetical shoe loosened the tenuous grip it had on whatever was holding it up, Gabriel was outside the castle and therefore actually able to answer the phone.

Feeling it vibrate in his pocket [and glad for an excuse to leave the stadium - why Michael still liked Quidditch was even more beyond him than it had been previously] Gabriel stood up and started scooting towards the staircase, edging around people, most of whom drew their legs back and out of his way.

Once halfway down towards the ground, Gabriel snatched the phone out of his pocket, cursing his luck. It had stopped ringing right when he'd gotten onto the stairs, but it was easy enough to find who had called him [Dean] and, with a grimace, call back.

The hunter picked up on the second ring.

"Gabriel?"

"No, the other guy who has your brother's phone," Gabriel replied sarcastically. "What'd you call me for?"

There was a miniscule pause on the other end before Dean answered. "Look, we got...a bit of a situation over here, and Cas said we should call you just for backup." Gabriel could hear the underlying growl in Dean's voice that conveyed exactly how much of a bad idea he thought this was.

"Well, I could have guessed that it wasn't your idea." Gabriel retorted dryly. "What kind of situation?"

"I don't fucking know, that's why Cas said you should come. It's something to do with angels, but we don't have much more info than that."

"Angelic, huh?" Gabriel sensed Michael moving towards him from the stands and his eyes flicked upwards momentarily at the creak of the staircase. "Sounds interesting. Maybe."

"Are you gonna come or not? 'Cause I ain't sitting around waiting for you to show if you're not going to."

The stairs creaked again.

Gabriel made a decision and hung up.

"Is that a phone?"

"Glad to see you're not that out of touch with non-magical stuff." Gabriel slipped the phone back into his pocket, not turning around to look at Michael.

"Are you going to go?"

"And here I thought you didn't eavesdrop." Gabriel replied dryly.

"Dean doesn't exactly make an effort to be quiet." Michael replied, one hand resting on the railing.

Gabriel only raised his eyebrows and used one hand to swing himself onto the next flight of stairs, descending manually rather than fly - and he'd rather it take that much longer for Michael to follow him.

Michael was still leaning over the railing above nir younger brother. "You haven't answered my question."

"Yep, that was intentional." Between one step and the next, Gabriel decided he'd had enough of the overly-creaky stairs and vanished from the stadium.

Wherever the Winchesters were, it was nighttime, and chilly - not that Gabriel really felt it, but he could still tell - and Sam jerked in surprised as he appeared.

"We shouldn't have expected - what?" Dean swung around when he noticed his brother's reaction, one hand on where his gun was no doubt tucked into his waistband, and then relaxed minimally with a snort.

Castiel only nodded in greeting. "Gabriel," he said, a note of relief in his voice. "We weren't sure you were coming."

"Just because I don't come immediately like you do?" Gabriel waggled his eyebrows at the innuendo, though most likely it had gone right over Castiel's head. "Mind giving me a few more details on whatever mess you're in now?"

Before any of them could answer, there was another flutter of wings and both Gabriel and Castiel stiffened.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked roughly, gun drawn this time and pointed towards the unknown. Gabriel noted that Sam was holding the Colt - and here he'd been thinking that they'd lost track of it after they failed to kill Lucifer with it.

"Michael." Castiel breathed. He obviously recognized the presence, if not the vessel, and was staring openly. Both of the Winchesters did double takes, eyes moving rapidly between Michael, Castiel, and Gabriel, Dean's eyes squinted in suspicion at the latter.

"How the hell did you find us?" Dean demanded, gun still cocked.

"I followed Gabriel," Michael replied, and Dean's gaze - as well as his gun - switched to point accusingly at Gabriel.

"Don't look at me like that," Gabriel scoffed, raising one finger and swiping it sharply to one side, the silver gun following the movement and clattering out of Dean's hand. "You think Michael's first on my list of people to hang out with?"

"Doesn't explain what he's doing here." Sam was still aiming the Colt unerringly at Michael, whose face gave a twitch of irritation at the misgendering, but ne didn't say anything.

"That's not going to work," Ne said flatly.

"Wanna bet?" Sam asked.

"Don't be an even bigger moron than you two usually are, Sam," Gabriel scoffed, spinning on his heel and glancing around where he'd landed. Some empty and - for the most part - undeveloped land. Judging by the lights in the distance, they were on the outskirts of a town. "It didn't work on Lucifer, you think it's gonna work on Michael?"

Sam's eyes flicked down to the Colt, then back up at Michael, before he scowled and tucked it back in his jacket.

Gabriel spread his arms. "Details, please?"

"Oh, not with him here." Dean jerked his thumb at Michael, who was looking progressively less and less pleased.

"Dean," Sam hissed, jerking his brother to the side.

"What?" Dean snapped.

"I don't like Michael either but please don't deliberately provoke an archangel."

"Still waiting," Gabriel reminded them.

Dean glared at him, then walked away from the group to go retrieve his gun, leaving Sam awkwardly standing among three angels. Castiel was still keeping two wary eyes on Michael, which was understandable, considering that last time the two of them had been within ten feet of each other Castiel had molotoved nem with holy fire.

It wasn't exactly favorable circumstances for a reunion, but Michael didn't seem to be glaring at Castiel, or doing anything at all to suggest that ne were anything less than perfectly wiling to just stand there waiting for whatever was going on to be explained.

"Uh..." Castiel turned slightly so that he was more facing Gabriel than the other archangel present, eyes still occasionally flickering over to watch nem. "We think we've found one of Malachi's old headquarters."

"Malachi?" Gabriel questioned. "Didn't they-"

"Lead one of the factions when we were trapped down here," Castiel finished, nodding. "They and Bartholomew were...the main powers behind the factions that formed."

"And you think you've found where they were holed up?" Gabriel frowned. "Why bother? Isn't everyone back upstairs? Or most of them, at least."

"Not all." Castiel shook his head. "It was Hannah's idea, to make sure that all those who were still down here wanted to be here."

Gabriel raised his head in sudden understanding, gaze sharpening. "You think something might have been left behind."

"Yes." Castiel hesitated before continuing. "Or someone."

Michael's mouth thinned, and Gabriel knew he must look to be in a similar state.

"Where?" He asked, as Dean finally rejoined the circle, standing next to Castiel and glaring for all he was worth at Michael.

"A little ways north of here," Sam said, jerking his head up the road. Gabriel could vaguely see a sharp corner poking around the bend - some building sitting on the side of the road, out of the way with no people likely to come by.

It was a smart place to stay, but that just made him angrier. Why couldn't Malachi have been an idiot? Things might have been so much simpler, and any angels that might be in there would have already been rescued.

Or killed, a voice in the back of his mind whispered, but Gabriel squashed it down and spread his wings.

"Not a very pleasant place, is it?" Gabriel remarked.

Castiel's wings had scooped the Winchesters along with him as he followed Gabriel, and Michael was there as well [to Gabriel's disappointment, although he hadn't really expected nem not to come]. The brothers were looking around at their surroundings - and more specifically, the burned imprints on the ground.

"Someone's been here already," Sam observed, skirting the shape of a person sprawled half on the wall. Gabriel was very pointedly not looking at them.

"No shit, Sherlock," He said as scathingly as possible, frustration seeking an outlet. Castiel looked distinctly uncomfortable, and although he was keeping silent on angel radio Gabriel got the feeling it was for a very different reason than being uncomfortable with dead angels.

Michael had already started striding down the hall, turning into the first doorway ne found.

"Where are you going?" Dean called after nem, voice still harsh with mistrust, but Michael's reply only came in the form of a withering look and nem disappearing through the door.

"We might as well split up and look," Sam said, sounding faintly exasperated. "We won't find much otherwise."

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "I'm going with Cas. You comin'?" He set off down the hallway, peering into doors [and resolutely avoiding the one Michael had ducked into] without waiting for an answer from Castiel, who of course was already following him.

Sam glanced down at Gabriel, and then shrugged and started walking down the hallway as well.

"What's that look for?" Gabriel called, setting off after Sam and carefully not stepping on any of the blackened imprints - something no one else but Michael had bothered to do. "I'm a joy to be around."

The resulting look sent in his direction could have dried the Dead Sea, but even so Gabriel didn't grin. The joke had been mostly empty anyway.

It was difficult to laugh when you were surrounded by all that was left of your siblings, even if you didn't know them.

Malachi's warehouse was mostly abandoned, although there was no shortage of stuff that had been left behind, neither Sam nor Gabriel had come across any angels, captive or otherwise.

Sam's eyes skirted across tables of instruments, which mysteriously vanished as soon as he stopped looking at them. He turned on Gabriel, an irritable expression twisting his features. "Will you stop that?"

"Stop what?" Gabriel asked innocently, as the tray Sam had been aiming his flashlight at only moments previously emptied itself. He'd be damned if he let the Winchesters get their hands on some of the stuff Malachi had left lying around, but vanishing just some of it would be too suspicious.

Sam frowned, glanced back at the tray, and proceeded to conjure up an even more annoyed bitchface, but Gabriel just smirked and turn to step through yet another doorway. The place seemed to be made of nothing but tiny adjoining rooms - and unless Gabriel had been there, he guessed that the Winchesters might have been wandering around in the same rooms for ages before they realized it.

"See anything?"

"We're in the same room. I doubt I'm seeing anything you aren't."

If eye-rolling was an emotion, then Sam Winchester would be the picture next to the definition in the dictionary. "Look," he said. "I get that you're not thrilled about having to help us out, but no one made you-"

"It's great to know you think you're important enough to affect my mood that much," Gabriel interrupted him. "And by great, I mean I don't care. But please, go on talking to yourself, if it makes you feel better."

"Is this about Michael?"

Gabriel didn't answer, but his frown deepened.

"Do you not get along wi-"

"Do I look like I get along with them?" Gabriel snorted. "In case you don't remember, Sasquatch, I'm a runaway. Michael didn't exactly take it well, but that's to be expected from them."

"...Them?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"Yes, Sam," Gabriel said dryly, nudging a cart out of the way of a locked door and absentmindedly breaking the lock. "Also known as a way of referring to a person. You never heard of it before?"

Without waiting for an answer, Gabriel swung the door open and then froze.

Behind him, Sam sucked in a breath.

"I'll go get Cas," he said, glancing at Gabriel and seeing his stony expression. Sam's footsteps rapidly receded, but Gabriel was a bit occupied with the angel chained in cuffs which were practically glowing with the energy they were leeching off her Grace to contain her.

[Well, the vessel was female, at least].

A single snap and the cuffs vanished, the angel's eyes shooting open to the accompaniment of a surge of Grace which made Gabriel slide back a few inches with pure force.

She'd been locked up a long time, with a backlash like that.

The previously trapped angel scooted backwards, stiffening when her back hit the wall and hands scrabbling among the scattered contents of the upended tables in search of a weapon.

"It's alright." Gabriel held up his hands, very slowly moving to sit on the threshold of the door to make himself shorter. "It's alright," He repeated. "I'm not here to hurt you." He let his hands rest on his knees, resting and very obviously not holding anything dangerous.

The angel didn't look like she believed him, but she stayed perfectly still, gaze fixed on Gabriel, who remained in the doorway.

"I'm not with Malachi," Gabriel said carefully, and wasn't surprised by the slight flinch the angel gave at the name.

"How do I know?" She asked warily, one hand clenched around a knife.

"They're dead."

Her eyes widened, but her grip didn't loosen. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't, I guess." Gabriel shrugged. "But I am." He knew he wasn't being exactly reassuring, but no one working for Malachi would have given up on even trying to convince her that they were telling the truth.

The angel seemed to realize that, too, relaxing minutely. "Who are you?" She asked, not making a move to leave the corner she'd crowded herself into.

"Gabriel."

Her breath hissed in, the sharp inhalation obvious in the silent room. "No," She said almost, whispering. "All the archangels are dead."

Gabriel shrugged, spreading his hands slightly. "Surprise."

The angel stared at him for a moment longer, eyes moving slightly - Gabriel guessed that she was looking at him more carefully, noticing what she might not have before, especially since Gabriel had folded his wings so that they were much more easily mistaken for one pair.

It never hurt to be a little cautious.

"Why are you here?" The angel asked, and Gabriel was going to answer when he felt someone land behind him, and the angel's head jerked up to look at whoever was behind him.

"Castiel!"

"Muriel." Castiel said, relief and an edge of sorrow clear in his voice.

But, wait a moment.

Muriel?

Gabriel would have twisted around to look at Castiel, except the younger angel was suddenly in front of him, walking towards Muriel. "Are you alright?" He asked, pausing when Muriel edged back.

"Fine," Muriel said, voice shakier than it had been a moment ago.

"Don't crowd her, bro," Gabriel said, rising to a kneeling position. Castiel, realizing his mistake, retreated slightly.

"You're injured," he said, and it was true - there were trails of blood on Muriel's vessel, but Gabriel couldn't sense any major wounds in her Grace - which meant either she'd been here long enough for the worst of it to heal, or else she hadn't been that seriously injured in the first place.

Judging by what he'd heard of Malachi, Gabriel was leaning towards the first option.

"Dean and I haven't found anyone else," Castiel said, turning to Gabriel slightly. "I believe Muriel is the only one still here."

"You're saying we should go, then?" Gabriel asked, raising one eyebrow.

Castiel nodded. "This is...not a place I want linger in."

"Well, I'm with you there." Gabriel pushed himself to his feet, looking back towards Muriel before moving anywhere. "What do you say?" He asked, inclining his head towards the doorway. "Ready to leave this dump behind?"

Muriel scattered some of the equipment in her attempt to rise, pulling herself up using the post she'd been chained to. "Please, yes."

Muriel was the first one out the door.

Dean jumped back as she wrenched the door open, practically sprinting out the door and only stopping once she'd gotten a few feet away, dropping to her knees in the grass and staring up at the sky.

"What's up with her?" Dean asked, staring after the freed angel.

"She's been inside for who knows how long," Gabriel replied, giving Dean a look that conveyed his feelings about the depth of the hunter's intellect. "Wouldn't you want to be outside?"

"That's the angel you found?" Dean asked, ignoring the look.

"Yes." Castiel nodded, as the rest of them exited the building. "Muriel. I...met her briefly, once before."

"Huh." Sam glanced at her again. "She alright?"

"Nothing major," Gabriel answered for Castiel, shrugging again. "She seems pretty okay to me. I don't think Malachi bothered...well." The words were reluctant to leave his mouth, but the other three seemed to get the gist of it.

"Where'd Michael go?" Dean glanced around, as if only then realizing that the older archangel was no longer with them.

"You think I know?" Gabriel asked, one eyebrow arched.

"Wh - no one knows where he is?"

"I thought you didn't care," Gabriel quipped.

"I care enough not to want them who knows where without anyone watching," Sam muttered.

"I can assure you, I'm not up to anything."

All four of them jumped at Michael's sudden appearance, and Gabriel was starting to get why humans had always been annoyed when he just popped in an out at will.

"Jesus Christ," Dean muttered.

"I would appreciate it if you kept him out of the conversation." Michael didn't look any happier than Gabriel felt about the warehouse in general, which [with the old Michael] would have meant that it would be up in flames - or gone in Grace - by now.

"What, you think I'm gonna do what you want me to do?"

"Dean-" Sam looked alarmed.

Michael was glaring now, and Gabriel noticed that Castiel - like himself - had one hand near his angel blade and eyes fixed on the angry archangel.

"I am not in the mood right now, Dean Winchester," Michael said, quietly but severe at the same time, and ne'd always been good at that. "So if you would just-"

Gabriel didn't want to know where that sentence might have gone, had they not been interrupted by the sudden arrival of several angels.

All four angels spun around to face the group that was now standing on the road. Muriel had shot to her feet, and was nervously edging closer to Castiel.

"So it's true." The lead angel's eyes were fixed on Michael. "You're back."

Michael's only movement was to nod slowly. "Iaoth." Ne said by way of answer, and Gabriel mentally noted it as the lead angel's name.

Iaoth looked bewildered. "But - where have you been?" They asked. "Hannah and Verchiel said you were in Heaven - ages ago! Why haven't you come back?"

Ah.

Gabriel gestured discreetly at Castiel. Get out of here.

What about-

NOW, Castiel.

With something like a grimace, Castiel reached out for Muriel, who allowed him to grasp her shoulder. He vanished with a double flutter - Muriel must have flown as well - and accompanied by the disappearance of the Winchesters, but Gabriel was more interested in observing the conversation between his siblings.

Michael had taken a while to answer, and while that meant that Gabriel hadn't missed anything during his hurried, telepathic conversation with Castiel, it also meant that Iaoth was getting a bit agitated.

"I aided Gabriel in reopening the Gates," Michael said finally. "I returned to other business after that."

"Other business?" Iaoth seemed uncomprehending. "I - you could have simply stayed in Heaven."

Michael closed nir eyes briefly, opening them almost immediately. "Yes."

Iaoth appeared taken aback by the short answer. "Then - why not?"

Even though there was no way in Hell - or rather, Heaven - that Gabriel would ever be able to see into Michael's thoughts, he could practically feel nir indecision. "I have been occupied with other business."

Iaoth stared. A small smile was fastened on their face - one born of the belief that whoever they were listening surely must be joking - right? "You are Michael," They said, uncomprehending. "You are our leader. What other business is there? You must lead Heaven." They became more insistent towards the end, and Gabriel stiffened.

Michael did, too.

"I must lead," Ne said, and Iaoth's smile faded as they realized what they had said.

"I didn't mean-"

"What did you mean, Iaoth?" Michael asked, not letting them finish.

"It's been chaos since you were tricked." The words came pouring out. "First with the war, and then with Raphael and Castiel fighting, and then - this business with Metatron - Heaven is - we need a leader." Iaoth looked pleadingly at Michael. "You are our General."

"I know." Michael seemed almost resigned to it, but that couldn't possibly be right. "And I know what has happened, Iaoth."

"Then why?"

The question hung in the air between the group of angels for longer than words normally did.

"I am still your General," Michael said quietly. "And I will return. But not now, Iaoth. I am not meant for rebuilding."

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

Michael's mouth tightened and for a moment Gabriel thought ne might be getting truly angry again - but the moment was gone as soon as it came.

And then Michael was gone.

This chapter's fairly long, and boy did I shove some major plot points in here. I hope you don't mind the tiny cliffie too much.

Read and review!