Chapter 60! What a mile marker. I can hardly believe I've been working on this story for almost a year now. This chapter was going to be a bit longer, but I figured I'd end it here and post it sooner [since it's been a while since the last chapter] and give myself something to go off of for the beginning of the next one.

It was interesting to see your reactions to the last chapter! A couple reviewers asked some fairly interesting questions, so I've decided to once again answer them in my author's note so I don't get any repeats.

Will any other archangels be making an appearance?

Honestly, I very seriously considered it at one point. Originally Lucifer was going to come back when Michael did. The ramifications of them alone would have fueled a decent plotline. But no. Raphael and Lucifer are staying where they are for this story, however seriously I have considered resurrection in the past.

Will Sam and Dean ever meet the Hogwarts group? Or Gabriel's kids?

Eh. Maybe. It depends on how the plot works. The Hogwarts group, maybe. But his kids? Unlikely. I have a pretty solid idea of where the plot is going from here, and they don't figure into it a whole lot. Apologies to those who liked those scenes.

Why's Dean so rude to Gabriel?

Dean doesn't like Gabriel. Gabriel may have helped out, and Dean does respect that, but both of them were being a bit ruder than they normally would be due to Michael's presence [since neither of them really like nem]. But he does acknowledge that Gabriel's honestly trying to help. I didn't mean to make him sound unempathetic, but with Gabriel as a narrator we don't get a lot of shots of Dean in situations where he's willing to relax and be nice.

Hold on, wasn't Muriel the angel that stole his horn, ran off to Hogwarts, and somehow got sick while in Rowena Ravenclaw?

Ehehehehehe. I was wondering if someone would notice that. There's a reason I brought in Muriel, after all. For those who don't remember, in 9x09 [Holy Terror] Muriel was the angel who answered Castiel when he prayed, before they were both summarily captured and tortured by Malachi and his buds. Muriel was actually killed in that episode, but we're pretending that she was just dragged off somewhere and Castiel didn't have time to find her before making his escape after he stole Theo's Grace.

I've also posted a one-shot called Muriel's Tale, so if any of you were wondering what happened to her with the Founders, go take a look!

And I can't believe I forgot to mention this earlier! An author by the name of izaiza14 has actually begun translating this fic into French! For anyone more comfortable in that language than in English, I've included a link on my profile!

That's basically it, so I'll stop taking up room and let you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter

"Yeah, thanks a lot for leaving me to deal with that lot alone," Gabriel snapped, landing in Michael's room without bothering with knocking.

Michael looked strangely guilty, which really meant that ne looked a bit more regretful than Gabriel had expected. "I didn't mean-"

"Do you know how determined Iaoth is?" Gabriel demanded without letting nem finish. "They were Zachariah's second in command! I swear, they were half a second from taking out an angel blade to get some answers. I did not sign up for bullshitting answers because you didn't feel like giving them!"

"I didn't mean for you to have to!" Michael shot back.

"Well, that's what happened!"

Michael looked on the edge of letting whatever retort ne were biting back slip, but nir self-restraint won out and all ne did was turn away.

Gabriel paused for only a second, surprised that Michael didn't start shouting back. "Surprised you were so against going back." He said eventually.

"I'm not." Michael replied sharply. "I...it's not the right time."

"The right time," Gabriel repeated, leaning against the doorway in false nonchalance. "When's that?"

The look Michael gave Gabriel might have been classified as a glare, if there was any anger behind it. "Is it a crime to want to stay here a little longer?" Ne asked pointedly. "Voldemort's still around."

"I didn't say anything like that," Gabriel retorted. "It's called curiosity."

There was a short pause during which Michael seemed unwilling to reply, and changed the subject instead. "That angel," Ne said. "What was her name?"

"Muriel," Gabriel replied shortly, and Michael swung back around to look at him.

"Muriel? As in the one who possessed Ravenclaw?"

Gabriel had almost forgotten about that, to be perfectly honest.

"Yeah, that was Muriel," He said, almost thoughtfully [and mostly to himself, to continue with the streak of honesty]. "Didn't think you remembered that."

"It's difficult to forget." Michael was staring at nothing in particular [even if it looked like ne was focusing with an unnerving - to a human, at least - intensity on one of the bedposts]. "Especially when they write you a letter."

"When they-" It took Gabriel a moment to remember the letters he'd found in Muriel's room - that, and the fact that one of them had been addressed to Michael. "Oh. Right." He'd gotten Death to deliver those, hadn't he?

"I assume you got one, too."

"Yeah. Earlier than you did yours." Gabriel was not entirely sure what had happened to the mood of the conversation, but the mood for picking fights had left him.

"I figured that you must have found them." Michael replied, sitting on the end of the bed, "But I didn't see you leave it."

"I didn't." Gabriel shrugged. "Death did."

"Death?" Michael sounded amused. "What did you do to get him to agree to that?"

"It was a mutual-favor thing," Gabriel replied evasively. "I figured he'd be the only one who'd be able to get into the Cage, anyway."

"The Cage?"

Michael's outward expression didn't change, but there was an ominous creak from the wooden headboard as nir hands clenched it tightly. Gabriel was reminded of the fact that the Cage was probably not the best topic of conversation to bring up. Michael's next words, however, surprised him.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Gabriel frowned. He was beginning to get the sense that something was off. "When exactly did you get this letter?" Funny, he'd have thought that Death would be the last person to procrastinate. Maybe that just applied to people whose time was up.

Michael seemed puzzled as well, although going solely by nir expression Gabriel would have been hard-pressed to guess that. "Right before terms started," Ne replied, as if it should have been obvious.

Oh, of course.

Gabriel laughed, turning away slightly, and he could feel Michael's confusion. "Right after I gave him the third one," He muttered. "Smooth, Death. I should have known."

"Known what?" Gabriel heard the creak of the floorboards that told him Michael had stood up, and turned around to face his sibling with the momentary grin gone.

"That Death would skimp out on delivering it right away," He replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I found 'em - well, back in first year technically, but I didn't give them to him until after the Tournament."

That seemed to give Michael pause. "The Tournament? That long ago?"

"It's only two years, Michael. Less than that, even."

"I guess humanity messed up my sense of time a little." Michael glanced down for the briefest of seconds. "You, ah...you struck a deal with Death to get a letter to me?"

Ah.

"Well-" Gabriel was struck with a very acute sense of discomfort, and had to make a conscious effort not to fidget, a reflex he'd picked up after so many years down on Earth. What he wasn't going to say was that even after the whole Apocalypse business, with Michael in the Cage, he'd still thought that the latter deserved - or maybe needed - to hear what Muriel had to say.

Especially going by what had been in the one she left for Gabriel.

"They weren't just for you," He ended up saying.

Michael only nodded in understanding. "She left one for you too, didn't she."

Gabriel just nodded back, a short, sharp movement. Michael didn't need to know about the one that must have found its way into Lucifer's hands by now - or the one for Raphael that Gabriel had stuffed in the bottom of his trunk, left still undelivered.

Michael let out a breath, a puff of air in the surprisingly still dorm room. "I've never even properly met her," Ne said abruptly. "Today was the first time I even saw her, actually."

Gabriel didn't reply. He'd never met Muriel properly either, but wasn't willing to mention it. That would classify as common ground between them, at least, and only people who were attempting to reconnect brought stuff like that up. Michael started talking again, to fill in the silence that had begun to weigh on the room.

"We messed up," Ne sighed, sitting down again in the same place. "This can't be the way They wanted it to go."

"Like either of us are ever gonna know." Gabriel closed his mouth sharply, but the vehement words had already left it. Michael didn't look up at him, but linked nir hands together and rested them over nir mouth.

"Do you think this was one of Their tests?"

The question caught Gabriel off guard.

"Maybe it is," He said. "So what?" Gabriel wasn't sure when this had become a sibling bonding session, and was subtly glancing around for excuses to leave the room.

Fortunately, one practically landed in his lap.

A prefect opened the door, huffing as though she'd sprinted up the staircase. "Michael, there's someone - oh." She had obviously not expected someone else to be in there. "Um, were you busy?"

"No," Gabriel said shortly, shouldering through the doorway next to her. "I was just leaving."

No, you weren't. Gabriel snapped of his connection to angel radio - again, he didn't know why he kept opening it back up - but Michael's slightly accusatory tone lingered in the back of his mind.

"You won't believe what I got in Slughorn's class."

"If the answer is a grade under an EE, you're right, I wouldn't believe it." Gabriel ducked the balled-up bit of parchment Hermione halfheartedly tossed at him.

"All joking aside-" She began.

"When is any sort of joking aside with me?" Gabriel asked, one eyebrow raised.

"As I was saying." Hermione sent him a sharp, pointed look and Gabriel raised his arms in mock surrender while leaning back in his chair, feet propped on the table.

"As you were saying...?"

Hermione held up a tiny gold bottle.

Once Gabriel looked closer, it became obvious that it wasn't the bottle, but the contents, that were golden, and it seemed to shift in constant movement.

"What kind of potion is that, again?" Michael asked from the other side of the table, nearly [but not quite] directly opposite Gabriel, mostly because the latter had moved a few inches to the side as soon as ne sat down.

"Felix Felicis," Hermione said proudly. "He said he'd give it to whoever could make the best potion - and as not many people got into NEWT potions, it wasn't exactly difficult."

"How many people are in the class?"

"Not counting Michael?" Hermione made an 'eh' face. "Maybe three."

Gabriel whistled. "Let me guess. Snape discouraged most people?"

"Well, actually, no. Slughorn let in anyone who wanted to take it, regardless of what Snape said at the beginning of last year. This one Slytherin, though, something Nott, he came fairly close."

"Not surprised he didn't beat you," Gabriel commented, and Hermione blushed as she tucked the bottle back away. "What's Felix whatever do, then?"

"Felix Felicis," Hermione corrected. "And it's a luck potion."

"Luck?"

"It makes you lucky," Hermione explained further. "Whatever you do after you take it, you'll be incredibly lucky, although it's dangerous to take in large amounts - never more than a tablespoonful, he said."

"And I'm sure Slughorn's the leading expert on this thing." Gabriel muttered with raised eyebrows and an accompanying eyeroll.

"He is the potions teacher. I'm sure Dumbledore wouldn't hire anyone he didn't think was capable."

"Are you forgetting Lockhart?"

"That's different. No one wants the Defense job - whoever applies is hired!"

"Lockhart wasn't anywhere near competent, you have to admit," Michael said, nudging a few books out of the way of Gabriel's feet.

Hermione huffed irritably and propped open a book, eyes immediately dropping to scan the text. "He wasn't that bad."

"Hermione, he quizzed us on him. Not the subject. Him."

"Well, at least he never tried to kill you." Hermione said pragmatically.

"Like that makes it better."

"Oh, no."

"What?" Both Gabriel and Michael looked up at the same time, having gotten used to receiving bad news at the breakfast table, since that was when Hermione - like so many others - got the paper. Not many people were discussing the news, although that was partly because not many people were in the hall anymore - it was Saturday, and at this time most people were either in their common rooms or in bed.

"There's been some sort of attack." Hermione was hidden behind the paper, since Gabriel had somehow ended up seated next to Michael. They were at the Ravenclaw table, after all. "They think it was the Imperius - the person who did it doesn't remember anything."

Michael frowned. "That's not usually an effect of the Imperius." Ne said, leaning forward as if in an attempt to read the paper nemself.

"I know." Hermione tilted the newspaper slightly, so she could see over it. "It's odd, don't you think? I mean, not realizing what you're doing while under it is one thing, but memory loss isn't a usual side effect once it's been removed."

"What else does it say?" Gabriel asked, propping his elbows on the table and refusing to lean forward as far as Michael had.

Hermione's head bent down towards the article again, her face inches from the print as her eyes zipped over it. "The victim was a boy whose parents kept him home instead of sending him to Hogwarts - oh, how horrible, they made him attack his own parents-"

"Muggleborn?" Michael asked.

Hermione paused, reading a bit further down. "...No, actually."

"No?" Gabriel echoed, sitting up with a frown.

"It says he was a halfblood - witch mother, muggleborn father - so really more like three-quarters wizard." Hermione was frowning, too, confusion twisting her mouth as she puzzled over it. "This doesn't sound like a death eater attack at all. It says there wasn't even a Mark left, so the neighbors were the ones who called it in when they noticed that no one had gone in or out in a few days."

Michael glanced at Gabriel. Gabriel pretended he didn't notice. "So what do they say?" He asked conversationally, as if they weren't discussing a brutal murder.

"They're still blaming it on Voldemort."

"Oh, come on," Gabriel objected. "No mark, weird Imperius thing - there's no way-"

"Gabriel," Hermione hissed. "Obviously they don't want to scare people by saying that on top of Vo - Voldemort there might be someone else running around doing the same thing! People would panic! They might suspect something, but they're not going to put it in the Prophet!"

"Alright, then." Gabriel grumbled, slouching slightly.

Hermione huffed before turning back to the newspaper again, most likely to finish the article. "Hm. That's odd."

"What is?" Michael questioned before Gabriel could.

"This says that they found a sort of 'yellow powdery substance' all over the place," Hermione read, not noticing the two archangels sitting across from her stiffen.

"Did they find a bad smell?" Michael asked conversationally.

Hermione dropped the paper. "How did you guess that?" She demanded, staring at nem in shock.

Ne pressed their lips together, a thin [and somehow tense] line on their face. "Lucky guess."

"No way that was a guess." Over the course of six years spent in Gabriel's company, Hermione seemed to have developed a remarkable talent for telling when someone was trying to bullshit her. "Michael, come on."

Michael sighed, leaning forward again, and Hermione mirrored the action. "Memory loss isn't a side effect of the Imperius," Ne began, "But it is a side effect of being possessed."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You think an angel-"

"Excuse me?" Gabriel said indignantly. "No. We have enough class and morals not to go around doing things like this, thank you."

"What he means is," Said Michael, throwing Gabriel a Look that he ignored, "Is that it was probably a demon."

Hermione inclined her head slightly, wearing a you've-got-to-be-kidding expression. "Demons are a thing?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"So what are they doing with Voldemort?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"They aren't, not necessarily," Michael replied, shrugging. "It could be an isolated incident."

"Demons do this for fun," Gabriel chipped in. "Maybe they stumbled across a wizard on accident, but most likely it wasn't motivated by anything."

Hermione looked slightly revolted. "That sounds horrifying. Are they difficult to defeat?"

Gabriel frowned momentarily, confused by what seemed like a topic shift. "Not really. Most of them are pretty far below my level."

"Oh, so it's easy then."

Gabriel was definitely missing something here.

"What's easy?" He asked when it became clear that Michael was not going to voice the question they were both thinking.

Hermione looked up, brows wrinkled in confusion and meeting two confused faces. "Defeating them, of course," She said, before hesitating. "You...do make sure demons don't do things like this, right?"

Oh boy.

"Don't look at me." Gabriel leaned away, distancing himself from the conversation and oncoming shit storm as much as possible. "I haven't been that involved with Heaven's business in ages."

Hermione frowned at that, but turned towards Michael expectantly. The latter looked like ne knew exactly what Hermione's reaction was going to be.

"Generally," Ne said slowly, "Heaven doesn't interfere with what happens on Earth."

It took a moment for Hermione to process what ne meant.

"Are you telling me-" The newspaper crinkled and was flattened on the table as Hermione stabbed a finger at the article, "That you don't do anything about things like this?"

"Demons aren't usually a big enough worry-"

"Not a big enough worry? They're killing people!" Hermione looked incredulous.

Michael didn't have an immediate answer for that, looking conflicted, and Gabriel knew why. A human conscience mixed with the justifications Michael must have had before? Not a great combination if ne was trying to win an argument.

"You don't even have an excuse!" Hermione, unlike Gabriel, had no such insight into Michael's mental workings, and seized upon the opportunity. "I can't believe you!"

"Hermione-" Michael attempted to interrupt, which never turned out well for anybody.

Hermione folded the newspaper with more force than was strictly necessary, throwing it at Michael. "I thought you were supposed to be the good guys," She said angrily. "Maybe being an angel changed you more than I thought."

Oh, that was low.

Hermione was storming away and didn't notice Michael's hands leaving indentations on the table, and Gabriel would have preferred not to, but it's hard to ignore things like that when our sibling is sitting right next to you and you can see nir wings folded so tightly it looks painful.

"You're going to tell me I deserved that," Michael said quietly.

"No, I'm not." Gabriel said flatly, before he got up and left the table too. There was only so much stuff like this he could take in one day.

Unfortunately, the matter was not laid to rest there.

"Two more attacks with a weird smell and the person remembering nothing." Hermione was staring pointedly over the newspaper. "One of the attacks doesn't even have a perpetrator - they just vanished."

Gabriel pretended to be absorbed in a book he'd picked at random out of the library, while Michael appeared to be reading the front page in avid interest.

"Don't pretend you're not paying attention to me!" Only Hermione could get the attention of two archangels so quickly.

"What do you want us to do about it?" Gabriel asked, one eyebrow raised. "We can't predict when they'll be attacking someone."

"You could find them, couldn't you?" Hermione asked, slamming the newspaper down again. She was less willing to let the subject go than Gabriel had expected [not that he'd really expected her to be willing at all].

"Find one demon?"

"You don't know it's one. These attacks occurred almost at the same time."

"It could be just one." Gabriel shrugged. "There's no way to-"

"I really doubt that, Gabriel." Hermione whispered the name so furiously that it was practically an inaudible hiss. "You haven't done anything! I really thought that maybe you had just gone off on your own when I wasn't looking but - you can't seriously say that you're okay with this!"

"You're saying you think I am?" Gabriel asked shortly, fed up with the entire discussion. Just because he wouldn't drop everything to up and go track down one demon?

Hermione pressed her lips together, but didn't look like she regretted her words. "I'm having a hard time telling right now."

Gabriel was at a loss for words [for one of the very few times in his very long life] and he didn't reply while Hermione swept her things into her bag, avoiding looking at either of them.

He was very aware of Michael's gaze, and something inside him twisted - he didn't want pity, thank you very much, he'd been on Earth for longer than the combined ages of the ancestors of everyone in this school - he knew how to deal with a few harsh words.

But for some reason, coming from Hermione, it hurt more.

Michael was gone most of the day, which suited Gabriel fine, and suddenly reappeared only shortly before dinner.

Literally reappeared, in fact, landing in front of Gabriel while the latter was walking back up to Ravenclaw tower and forcing him to skid to a halt to avoid crashing into nem.

"Crash into me, why don't you?"

"Sorry." Michael swept nir hair out of nir face. "I found that demon."

"That's where you were all day?"

"This is bigger than we thought," Michael said seriously, halting whatever Gabriel was about to say next. He looked closely at his sibling, noting the tension that he hadn't seen at first glance.

"What?"

"You'll want to see this for yourself."

Exactly what Gabriel wanted. More alone time with Michael. But if there was a demon doing something more than just what normally happened when demons were around..."Fine. Where'd you put them?"

"I'll show you. It will be faster." Michael put out a hand when ne saw Gabriel's expression. "One more thing."

"What?" Gabriel asked flatly.

"I don't want this demon knowing it's dealing with archangels."

"So tone down on the angelic-ness?" Gabriel asked dryly, catching onto the implied meaning.

"If you don't mind."

"Fine." Gabriel closed his eyes, concentrating on his Grace. "This might take a moment - this vessel doesn't have a soul or anything to use to camouflage myself."

"Whatever you can do is fine." Michael's presence waited patiently while Gabriel let his Grace recede, pulling it even tighter into the confines of his vessel. It was constricting, but he didn't hide it all the way, leaving some closer to the surface as he constructed a sort of screen over himself. Unless it was a particularly powerful demon, it wouldn't notice anything unless it looked really closely - and even then, Gabriel doubted it would be able to see through the screen. He'd easily be able to play it off as personal angelic warding.

The difficulty lay in the fact that - unlike Michael, who still retained nir soul from nir stint as Michael Corner, even if it was difficult to see through nir Grace - like Gabriel had pointed out, Harry Potter was dead, and therefore no soul remained in the body. There wasn't even the helping factor of his last vessel, which [being an actual pagan] had masked his Grace better than he'd hoped it would be able to.

Hence, the screen.

"Alright, I got it." He opened his eyes again. "What's so important about this demon that you don't want it knowing who we are?"

Michael shrugged, a miniscule movement of nir shoulders. "I think it would be better if as few people knew about us for as long as possible."

Well, that was basically what Gabriel had been trying to do, until Dumbledore had leaked it to the entire Order. "Fair enough," he said grudgingly.

The corner of Michael's mouth was tugged up for a second, before nir previous seriousness replaced it. "Let's go, then."

Ne were gone before Gabriel could say anything, and he rolled his eyes before following the trail Michael left behind nem.