Unfound
Chapter Thirty-Six
Harry couldn't sleep. There were too many thoughts bouncing off every corner of his mind and he could feel anxiety bubbling up under his skin.
He wasn't sure if it was anxiety or magic. He didn't know which was more unsettling because when he thought it might be magic, he tried casting spells. They didn't work.
Finally, after a couple of hours of tossing and turning, he gave up.
Maybe a walk would help.
He quickly dressed and headed out of his room. Before he had gone to sleep, he had made sure that Sirius was safely behind a warded door that Sam and Dean couldn't get through. He was sure Castiel could, if he wanted, but he trusted the angel.
Which was a very strange thought for him.
Harry had spent a lot of time thinking about Castiel and what his return meant. It was a bit of a relief - a pressure taken off his shoulders. He had been worried that he was going to have to leave his brothers to protect his godfather. Sam and Dean may still not be big fans but they were unlikely to try and hurt him.
Of course, his brothers' quick embrace of the angel brought up other feelings in Harry as well. But he shook those nasty buggers from his brain, not wanting to go down that road.
He managed to get outside of the Bunker (with Sirius here, his brothers didn't bother trying to stop him from leaving anymore) and climbed the steps to one of his favorite places.
It was summer – the night was pleasantly cool. A relief from the heat of the sun without it being cold.
Harry didn't know what was in the building that had the Men of Letters Bunker below it but obviously, nothing of consequence since, as far as he could tell, it was abandoned.
The top of buildings had always been a safe space for him. The first time he ever apparated, it had been to his school's roof. Dudley had lacked the agility to climb after him and the intelligence to look up when Harry had run away.
He had discovered, not that long ago, that there was a very small garden on the top of this building. Mint, Black Eyed Susans, Snow Drops, Chives, and Marigolds were some of the plants. If it hadn't been so well kept, Harry would have suspected that the Men of Letters had planted this here for Potions. But this garden wasn't overgrown enough to have been dormant for fifty years.
He noticed some weeds growing near the flower beds. He didn't have a shovel, but something about the late night and warm summer air made him feel like he had to tend to them. With his fingers, he started digging.
"I'm glad you found this place," a deep voice said behind him.
He jumped.
"Sorry," Castiel said, sheepishly. "I did not mean to startle you. I saw you slip out."
"And thought you'd follow and scare the crap out of me?"
"No," the angel replied. "I just wanted to talk."
"To me?"
Castiel tilted his head. "Yes. No one else is out here."
Harry groaned and stood up from where he had been kneeling to dig out the weeds before. "And what would you like to talk to me about Castiel?"
The intensity of the angel's stare would have once annoyed Harry. Now he had a better understanding of what it meant.
"I didn't tell you everything earlier," he started.
"Color me shocked," Harry sighed. "Just can't change your ways, can you?"
"Color you… why would I…?"
"What do you want to say, Castiel?" Harry asked, impatient.
"I wanted to talk to Jack first. Then you."
"Not Sam and Dean?"
"No. Not Dean and Sam."
That shouldn't have surprised Harry, and yet, it did. "And what are you hiding from them now? What happened to, 'I don't lie to Sam and Dean,'?" Harry mimicked Castiel's deep voice and American accent as he quoted the angel.
"I didn't lie to them," Castiel said with infuriating calm. Harry had been hoping to get under his skin. "This just doesn't have to concern them. Not if you don't want it to."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You think that I keep secrets from my brothers?"
"Of course, you do," Castiel said. "And they keep secrets from you. And each other. Humans are sneaky like that. I want to talk to you about your grace. And I thought that you might appreciate hearing this news in private."
Harry said nothing, waiting for the angel to continue. And he did.
"What Asmodeus did to you – it wasn't just to hurt you."
Harry snorted. "No shit."
Castiel ignored him. "He was trying to find a way to demonize a wizard's soul."
That couldn't be good. "What does that have to do with me?"
"Arguably, you are the only wizard who had his soul…transformed. And you were the only angel to have a soul."
"Jack."
Castiel smiled a little. "Yes, Jack has a soul."
"Don't all Nephilim?"
"No," Castiel said. "The angels that sired children in the past didn't have grace strong enough to create a vessel that could hold both angelic grace and a human soul. It is part of the reason Nephilim are considered to be abominations. They don't have a human soul but they can pass as humans. In the past, they have done terrible things."
"So, Jack has a soul because his father was an archangel?"
"No," Castiel scowled. "Lucifer isn't why Jack has a soul. Lucifer played a very little part in making Jack who he is. You and Jack…you are equals. You are connected. And you were connected from the very beginning – both of you owe your souls to your mothers."
"Kelly," Harry said.
Castiel nodded. "Yes. Her love for Jack was greater than even I realized. She didn't die from childbirth, not like the other mothers of Nephilim. She died by gifting her soul to Jack. She chose to die for him to have a chance to be good. I don't think I need to tell you the power of such a sacrifice."
"That's possible?" Harry, having a hard time keeping up with his thoughts.
"I didn't think so. Even though Billie said that was how she died. But Jack – he let me feel his soul, and, Harry, it was beautiful. I could feel his mother's love – her soul."
This all made Harry's head spin. He wondered if he had fallen asleep and if this was all a very bizarre dream. "I don't understand," he finally said, sitting on the ground.
Castiel joined him. "Jack's goodness – the best part of him, the strongest part of him, didn't come from Lucifer, it came from Kelly."
"Alright," Harry said, as he stopped trying to wrap his mind around it. "And that has what to do with my sacrifice…"
"Not your sacrifice," Castiel interrupted. "Your mother also gave you her soul."
"Mom still has a soul," Harry said. "I know that she does."
"Not Mary. Lily," there was a reverence in his tone.
"Mum?"
Castiel nodded.
That made Harry think. "You know – when I was younger, before Teddy, but after I had returned to Hogwarts from the US, I used to wonder why Mum would have given her life for a kid that wasn't even hers. But I understand now. Bobby said it best – 'Family don't end in blood.' He's not my blood but if the only way to save Teddy were to die, I would do so. Gladly and with a smile on my face."
"I didn't use to understand that either," Castiel said.
Harry looked at him, a little caught off-guard. "You do now?"
"Yes. I know that may surprise you. Parental feelings – they are so human. Angels – we're not parents. We're children of an absent father and we're siblings. But Jack reached out to me. When he was only in the womb and I – I loved him from then on."
"You know – he loves you too," Harry said.
Castiel smiled. "I do."
"So…we're connected?"
"Yes. Jack's humanity started with his mother's sacrifice and love, but I believe that it is you that will keep him from becoming something darker. Gabriel knew what he was doing when he brought you back. When he anchored your existence here on Earth to Jack, he made it so that you need each other. Literally. If you die, so does Jack. If Jack dies, you die. It's – balanced. Billie was pleased about that, at least."
"Huh," Harry said. While they had theorized about the connection, he and Jack shared this confirmation was blowing his mind. He was still not convinced this wasn't a dream. "He reversed the Prophecy on me, didn't he?"
Castiel considered. "Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives," he remembered.
"Right. I guess I should have known that you'd know it by heart, Castiel," Harry said. "Neither of us can live while the other dies?"
"Or neither of you can die if the other lives," Castiel said.
Harry shuddered. "Do we know that?"
"No, it's just a theory. But I think it's also the key to you getting access to your grace back."
"Access to my grace?"
"Yes. It's still there, of course, you know that. And I think, without Jack, you would have it back," Castiel said. "But Jack is…conflicted. And unsure. And scared. He doesn't want access to his powers, not really. He doesn't want to become the monster that Dean thinks that he is and he thinks the only way to prevent that is to…"
"Is to not use his own grace," Harry said.
"Yes. Of course, he doesn't quite understand that wizarding magic is grace, but I believe that this is why you were able to do magic earlier. When Jack practices magic, he is opening up something in him that also…"
"Allows me to use magic," Harry said. Never, in a million years, would he have realized what was going on here. "But I was only able to apparate, I couldn't do any other magic, and Jack has been working his way through the entire Hogwarts curriculum."
"It's still small magic, compared to what you are used to doing," Castiel said. "Try something small, see if it works."
Harry glanced around him. He saw a petal that had fallen off one of the flowers. "Wingardium Leviosa," he cast. Nothing happened.
"You're trying to do that wandless," Castiel pointed out.
"I apparated wandless! Why shouldn't I be able to cast a first-year spell without my wand?"
"You're asking too much of your depleted grace. And of the magic that Jack has done."
Harry growled in frustration. "I didn't bring my wand out here with me," he said.
"You walked out of the Bunker unarmed?" Castiel asked, concerned. "That was foolish."
"Maybe," Harry admitted. "You planning on killing me again?"
"Later, try again with your wand," the angel ordered him, ignoring the jibe. Harry rolled his eyes.
"Sure, whatever you say, Uncle Cas."
Castiel made a noise of annoyance. He stood up, removed his trench coat, draped it over his hand, and conjured Harry's wandblade. He held it out, handle out, not making any direct skin contact with it.
"I didn't know you could do that," Harry said.
"It's…ill-advised," Castiel said. "Please take it – it doesn't like me."
Harry smirked, stood, and took the wandblade. "I wonder why," he mused.
"Because I tried to destroy you and by, extension, it," Castiel explained. "Now, try the spell again."
Did he just make a joke? Harry wasn't sure the angel was capable of that. And as much as he disliked being told what to do, he was curious.
"Be sure to use the correct wand movement too," Castiel said.
"Oh, really?" Harry asked. "All these years and now someone tells me that the movement matters?"
"I would have thought they would have covered that at Hogwarts. Jack was telling me about how in this one textbook…
"Shut up, Castiel."
Wisely, the angel shut his mouth.
Swish and flick, Harry thought as he said, "Wingardium Leviosa." Not only did the petal that Harry had been concentrating on float up, but so did all the others on the ground. "Woah."
"Was that difficult?" Castiel asked, a hint of smugness in his voice that Harry particularly loathed.
"No," Harry said. "But it appears that…" the words were difficult to say, "you were right."
Castiel inclined his head.
Smug git, Harry thought.
"Alright. So, my ability to do magic is connected to Jack. Now what?"
"I don't know. I think though – I think that maybe this isn't the best environment for him. Dean – his heart is in the right place, but when he looks at Jack all he sees is your mother's death and mine. He sees Lucifer when he should see Kelly. And Sam – Sam sees the opposite. He sees a savior. Jack can't live up to either of those expectations."
Harry couldn't disagree with that. Another way we're connected, he thought wryly. He'd been both villain and hero. "Are you going to take him away, then?"
"No," Castiel said. "I don't think that would be any better. I think that you should take him away."
"Sam and Dean would never…"
"Dean and Sam couldn't stop you if it's what you wanted. The decision doesn't need to be made tonight, but I think that Jack would benefit from an environment that was a little less stifling."
"And you? Who gets custody of you? You know that even the suggestion is going to piss Sam and Dean off. You just got back. Do you want to set them off already?"
Castiel sighed. "They'll understand."
"I'm sorry, have you met my brothers?"
"Maybe not right away," Castiel amended.
"I'll think about it," Harry said. Although, he knew his mind was already made up. He was just going to have to figure out how to break the news to Sam and Dean. It wasn't going to be easy. Or fun. Maybe it was time for him to go home, anyway. He had argued with Teddy and Sirius about it but he had to admit they were wearing him down a little.
"I appreciate that. I think we should get back inside before someone wakes up and does think I've killed you again."
"Was that a joke?" Harry asked with astonishment, no mistaking it this time.
Castiel gave him a gummy grin. "It was!"
"I didn't know you could do that." They both started walking to the ladder that they could use to climb down. "Wait," Harry said.
Castiel turned around.
"I – er, I wanted to say, on his behalf at least, I mean, it doesn't really make up for it, but for what it's worth…" Rambling, Potter, he thought to himself. "I'm sorry that Sirius killed you. He shouldn't have done that."
Castiel looked at Harry was astonishment. "Are you really? I would have thought my death would have come as a great relief to you."
"It wasn't," Harry insisted. "And not just because Sam and Dean were devastated. I don't like what you did to me. I – I'm beginning to see that maybe you played more of a role in my ultimate decision to sacrifice myself."
"You finally understand what I did?"
"I think I always knew, on some level," Harry insisted. "And it wasn't ok. But I can see you've changed. And – and maybe I haven't completely forgiven you as I said, but I think I will. If you were still dead, I don't think I could have ever come to terms with it all." Admitting that cost Harry a lot. But he could feel the truth in his own words as he spoke them.
"You don't know how happy I am to hear that," Castiel responded sincerely.
"To hear that I don't forgive you?" Harry asked, incredulously.
"To hear that you are finally valuing your life as you should," Castiel corrected.
Oh, Harry thought.
The two of them went the rest of the way back in total silence.
III
"Hermione, you've got to take a break," Ron pleaded with his wife. He had come all the way over to the Ministry to come and get her. She hadn't been home in days.
"I can't, Ronald," she snapped. "I could be removed from office any day now and I need to make sure that I get as much done as I possibly can. People are dying."
"It's not your fault," he said.
She snorted. "Yeah, ask the general populace that. They think that this is all happening because we disbanded the Men of Letters."
Things had been bad in Britain since the trials and sentencing of the Squibs and Muggles that had made up the Men of Letters. A lot of very powerful people had been removed from their positions. At the time, Hermione had seen it as a victory.
Shortly after, everything went to hell.
Supernatural creatures all over the world seemed to feel the end of the Men of Letters whose network extended far past Britain's borders. Attacks from them on magical populations were on the rise. For the most part, Great Britain had been spared, but Hermione thought it was only a matter of time.
The problem they had here was demons.
Demons had never really bothered witches and wizards before, but the Men of Letters had opened a door that seemed impossible to close, and disappearances were quickly spread throughout the land. Most of the truly awful crimes that the Men of Letters had committed had been hidden from the public. At the time, Hermione had made that decision to try and stop a wave of violence against Muggles and Muggleborns.
That decision may have been the worst political decision she had ever made.
The public didn't understand that what the Men of Letters had been working on is what had landed them in this situation. The Department of Mysteries had only been able to get a hold of a couple of demons to question them, but it seemed that demons had caught wind of what the Men of Letters had been doing to magical people in the United States and taken up where they have left off. Only, they were far less subtle and more violent than the Men of Letters had ever been.
Fifty witches and wizards were missing. They had already found and identified the magically drained bodies of twenty of them. And there was no end in sight.
The wizarding public was scared.
Hermione was scared.
And when people got scared, they got mean. Times felt nearly as dark as they had during the war. Hermione was working day and night to try and figure out not only how to protect her people, but also figure out why this was happening.
Sure, she knew that demons were evil. But this was all too organized for the general chaos they usually caused.
"Just another couple of hours, please, Ron," she begged her husband, she was buried in a report. "Then I'll be home in time to say goodnight to the children."
"Hermione, it's six o'clock in the morning."
"What?" She asked. She looked out of her window. The signs of dawn were just beginning to show. "No."
"Yes. Please. Rosie and Hugo are worried. Merlin, I'm worried. Come home, get some sleep, and then take a fresh look later."
Hermione didn't want to. She wanted to keep working. But she was exhausted and knew that she was probably approaching uselessness. "Ok," she agreed.
"Really?" Ron seemed shocked.
"Yeah. I'll sleep for a couple of hours. Are Rosie and Hugo terribly disappointed?"
"They're alright," he said. "They understand. But they would like to see you."
"They can't possibly understand," Hermione said, guilt overcoming her. "But hopefully soon…"
"You're doing the best you can," Ron reassured her. "Even if they don't understand now, they will someday."
Hermione heaved a heavy sigh. "Ok. Shall we go home?"
Ron hugged her. "Yes."
III
"Do I need an escort?" Sirius asked with amusement when Harry appeared in the magical part of the Bunker.
"No," Harry said evenly. "But I thought that you might want to come out and join us for breakfast, instead of sitting in here all alone. Now that the kneazle is out of the bag."
"Oh," Sirius said. "I – is it safe?"
"For whom?" Harry asked with amusement. "If you don't threaten them, they'll not threaten you." He thought for a second. "Probably. Don't try to talk to Dean before he's finished his first cup of coffee. No one is really safe from him before then."
Sirius cataloged that information for future use as the two of them headed into the kitchen.
Sam was already in there. He had a cup of coffee and was concentrating closely on his laptop.
"Already been on your run, Sam?" Harry asked.
"Hmm," Sam said, not paying attention. Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"You want coffee, Sirius?"
"No. But I wouldn't say no to a good cuppa," Sirius sat down at the table – but as far as possible from Sam.
Harry, anxious to avoid an awkward morning conversation, busied himself with the kettle. Sirius looked around the kitchen with interest. Before, when he had been in here it had been to see how he could pull a prank. But it really was quite incredible, what the Muggles had managed to build in this underground shelter.
Harry put a cup of tea in front of Sirius, before going to the refrigerator to start making breakfast. It was a pretty big group that he needed to cook for now. At least now he didn't have to pretend to be super hungry to make enough servings to include Sirius.
"You don't have to do that, you know," Sam said, finally looking up from the laptop.
Harry put the eggs on the counter and went for the flour before responding. "I know," he said. "But I like to."
"We could just eat cereal. Dean and I lived on worse for years," Sam pushed.
"Yeah, and I know how much you loved all that road food," Harry said. "We've got a full kitchen, why not use it?"
"You could also let someone else cook," Sam said. "It was a shock to me when we first moved in here, but Dean is a surprisingly good short-order cook. His burgers especially."
"Are you saying that you'd like to have hamburgers for breakfast, Sam?" Harry asked as he started pouring ingredients into a bowl.
"Of course not," Sam said. "But – "
"Stop badgering him," Sirius said, annoyed at this conversation. "He doesn't have to do what you say."
"I know," Sam snapped. "But he also has this thing where he thinks that if he doesn't…"
"ENOUGH," Harry said, slamming another bowl on the metal counter. "Sam, I'm happy to make breakfast. Sirius, he's just worried that I'm cooking to appease Dean and him. He's been on about it for years. He thinks the Dursleys abused me, but…"
"They did," Sam and Sirius said at the same time, both looking displeased that they had agreed with the other.
"They didn't," Harry said. "But look, you agreed on something. Progress."
"What are we agreeing on?" Dean entered the kitchen. He wasn't in his usual robe, which meant that he thought about the fact that it was more than his brothers in the Bunker. But he was still not awake.
"Nothing," Harry said, hurrying to get him a cup of coffee before anything could explode.
Dean frowned at the cup. "You don't have to…"
"No, we're not discussing this again," Harry said. "Sit your arse down and be quiet."
"Grumpy," Dean muttered, as he sat across from Sam. He slowly sipped on his drink and looked blindly ahead while Sam buried his head in the laptop again and Sirius ignored them all. "What got his panties in a bunch?" He finally asked when he had gotten halfway through his cup.
"The tension," Sam said. "And now he's stress cooking again."
Dean looked up at Harry, really seeing him for the first time today. "Do you think he slept at all?" He asked.
"Doesn't look like. I ran into Cas this morning, before my run and he said that…"
"Seriously?" Harry asked, annoyed. "I'm right here."
"We know," Dean said. "Why didn't you sleep last night?"
"I dunno maybe it had something to do with my psychotic older brother threatening to kill my godfather for just existing."
"Touchy," Dean said. "Do you think it's his anxiety?" he asked Sam.
Sam's mouth twitched.
"I'M NOT ANXIOUS, AND IF I WERE I THINK IT WOULD BE PERFECTLY UNDERSTANDABLE."
"Woah, Harry," Teddy said as he entered the kitchen. "It's not even nine in the morning yet. Why are you yelling already?"
"Sam and Dean are teasing him," Sirius said. He didn't want to be, but he was pretty amused by this whole situation. It was the homiest he had felt since being at Grimmauld Place with the Order.
"Ah. They do like to do that. Does that mean that you've already had your first cup of coffee, Dean? Because I'd really like to talk to you about this thing that Jack and I were…"
"Good morning!" Jack greeted everyone in the room.
"Oh good, Jack, I was just starting to talk to Dean about what we were talking about last night I wanted to hear his opinion on…"
Harry chose to stop listening and concentrate on making breakfast. As annoyed as he was that his mental health had been a topic of discussion this early in the day (or at all), he was pleased that no one had attacked each other yet. And if Sirius was going to verbally spar with someone, better Sam than Dean. Sam could keep up – Dean would end up flustered.
And he was anxious. He had been up for the rest of the night thinking about his conversation with Castiel and trying to figure out how to tell Sam and Dean that he was going to take their recently resurrected best friend and Lucifer's son to England with him and that they couldn't come. They were not going to be happy. He also realized that Hermione did not want him to return to England either. Which could cause all sorts of problems. (Not that he expected his best friend would do anything to cause actual trouble for him, but it seemed that he was doomed to live in a tense situation no matter what he did.)
He finished what he was doing without really paying any attention, just letting the routine of cooking breakfast for family guide his steps and actions. Like a self-steering broom, he placed plates in front of each person, only vaguely aware that he was giving the egg-white omelet to Sam, putting extra bacon on Dean's plate, arranging the chocolate chips and blueberries in a smiley face pattern on Jack's pancakes, not forgetting to use any fruit other than blueberries for Teddy, and giving Sirius a little bit of everything because he didn't know what he would like best.
"…eat?" He heard out while he was wiping down the countertop.
"What?" He looked up, everyone was staring at him.
"Are you going to eat?" Sam asked, pointedly.
"Not hungry," he said as he continued to clean. He concentrated on his task so that he didn't have to see the looks of concern on his family's faces. This all would be easier when Castiel showed himself.
As if by magic, Castiel came into the kitchen. He gave Harry a look that made him realize that he must have prayed without realizing it.
"Morning," the angel said to the group. Harry prayed for him to just sit at the table. He raised an eyebrow but moved to sit opposite Sam – the last available seat.
Teddy went back to jabbering away at Dean, who didn't look like he was paying much attention. "Yeah, yeah, that's all fine," he said to his nephew, not taking his eyes off Harry.
Sam closed his laptop and went over to where Harry was washing dishes.
"Let me," he said, taking a plate out of Harry's hands. Harry moved out of the way to start drying, only to find that Dean had saddled up to him on that side and already had the drying towel in his hands.
"Take a break, Harry," he said. "There's still plenty of eggs left. And you made enough bacon to feed an army."
Harry honestly didn't have the energy to argue with them. He went to go sit at the table.
"Could I talk to you, Harry?" Jack asked quietly.
"Er – sure," Harry said. "Here?"
Jack shook his head.
"Alright, let's go to my room," he said. He looked up at Castiel and Sirius who were very pointedly not looking at each other. "Teddy – keep an eye on them for me, won't you?"
Teddy grinned at getting deputized. "Yep. I promise I won't let them attempt to murder each other while you're away."
"Good."
III
Groggily, Hermione woke up. She heard voices downstairs. The clock next to her bed read that it was just past eleven. From the sunshine streaming through the window, she knew that it was daytime. Briefly, she wondered if Ron had dosed her with something. She couldn't remember the last time that she had slept more than a couple of hours in a row.
She dressed and headed downstairs. Maybe she could have a quick lunch with her children before heading back into the office.
The scene she came in on wasn't what she was expecting.
Charlie and Luna were sitting across from Ron and Ginny and the four of them were pouring over documents.
"… I really think that this might be the only way," Ginny was saying to the group of them.
"What might be the only way?" Hermione asked, startling them all. "And where are Rosie and Hugo?"
"At the Burrow," Ron said. "I thought you'd sleep better without their bickering and banter. Mum said she'd bring them back over at lunchtime – so in the next hour or so."
Hermione was a little disappointed, especially since Ron had convinced her to take this break so that she could see them. But the rest had been nice, so she couldn't really fault him.
She was ready to work again.
"Ginny?" She asked.
Ginny looked up at her. "Yes?"
"What might be the only way?" she repeated.
"You're not gonna like it…" her sister-in-law muttered.
"Honestly, at this point, I'll take whatever suggestions I can get. I don't know how much time I have to turn this around at the helm."
"Fine. It's Harry. I think you need to bring Harry back."
"No," Hermione said immediately.
"I knew you were going to say that but…"
"I just spoke with Harry the other day," Hermione said, unclear when exactly it had been because all her hours were melding together into meaningless blocks of time. "I told him to stay away from it all."
"He knows?" Charlie asked. "If he knows, that means that Sam and Dean also…"
"He doesn't know any specifics," Hermione cut her off.
"If he doesn't know them now, he will soon," Luna said. "Sam and Dean are clever. Between Sam's research skills and Dean's intuition, I'd expect another phone call from Harry sooner rather than later."
"I'm not going to bring Harry back for my political gain," Hermione said. "He's more than earned his anonymity. This would just be another trip to the circus for him."
"Plus, he can't exactly protect himself in the same way anymore, does he?" Ron agreed with Hermione. As much as he wanted to see more of Harry, he didn't want the life that his best friend had been living before his death back for him.
"His powers still aren't back?" Charlie asked.
"He didn't say when I talked to him," Hermione said. "I assumed that they might be if he was off on a case with Dean."
"They weren't when I talked to him," Ginny said.
That caught everyone by surprise.
"I thought he wasn't talking to you, Ginny?" Hermione, said, remembering a drunken evening when she had come over crying about it. Ron hadn't been home and Hermione had never mentioned it to him.
"He wasn't. But he called me."
"What about?" Charlie asked.
Ginny didn't want to say.
"Ginny…" Ron said. "What did Harry want?"
"It's weird, ok," she said. "Which is why I didn't tell anyone. I didn't want to worry you."
Hermione was essentially always worried. Now, even more so. "What was it?"
"He wanted me to do a spell for him," she said.
"Why'd he call you then?" Ron asked, a bit miffed.
"I think that he didn't want a big deal made about it," Ginny said. "I thought he was mad, but, it worked. I've been meaning to bring it up, but it's around the time of the Perry's girl disappearance and you've been so busy that I thought that we could just deal with it when this all blew over."
"This isn't going to blow over," Hermione said.
"Yeah, I know that now," Ginny said, clearly upset.
"Why do you think he called you?" Luna asked. Per usual, there was no judgment in her voice, just curiosity. She would have thought that Harry would have gone to her before Ginny just because she knew that he didn't want to cause Ginny any harm – even if she thought he was being a bit silly.
Ginny reddened. "It wasn't something you could've helped him with. There are actually pretty few people around that could."
"Are you going to tell us?" Ron asked, impatiently.
Ginny sighed. "He asked me to do the four-point spell for Sirius."
Whatever any of them had been expecting, it wasn't that.
"Sirius Black?" Ron asked.
"Yes."
"Oh, that's it. Clearly, Sam and Dean have driven him off the deep end. We should bring him back. Not into the public eye, obviously, but maybe we could tell his old mind healer and…" Ron when straight into strategy.
"It worked," Ginny interrupted. "The spell worked. Sirius was in Chicago."
"You're sure it wasn't some other Sirius?" Hermione asked, feeling overwhelmed. What had Harry gotten himself into? Did he have the power to bring people back to life? Although, if he did, she supposed that he wouldn't be looking for him in the first place.
"I'm sure. He's the only Sirius Black that I know."
Silence.
"I'm sorry – who is Sirius Black?" Charlie asked.
"Harry's godfather," Luna answered her. "I never got to meet him."
"His dead godfather?" Charlie asked.
"Yes," Ginny said.
"What is going on?" Ron asked the question they were all thinking. "First, we get Harry back, then the Men of Letters try to bring down the magical world, demons are attacking witches and wizards – and now Sirius Black is back from the dead twenty years later?"
"It's got to be all connected," Hermione said.
"This sounds like the kind of mess the Winchesters would step in," Charlie said.
"Or create," Ron said, cynically.
"Ok," Hermione said, realizing what they had to do.
"Ok, what?"
"I'm not sure about revealing him to the whole world. But we need to get Harry here. Sooner rather than later. It'll be easier if I'm still in charge of the government."
"You know, he'll likely bring Sam and Dean with him," Charlie pointed out. She was all for it – she loved seeing her friends, but she knew the stir they caused wherever they went.
"If he has to bring them, so be it," Hermione said.
"But 'Mione…"
"Ronald. I know don't like them, but if that's the only way to get Harry, we'll have to deal with it."
"Fine. Andy will be happy – she was hanging out with Mum earlier just lamenting how little she's seen of Teddy."
"Are you ready to have a Nephilim in England?" Luna asked, thinking of the entire group.
Hermione sucked in a breath. She hadn't thought about the Nephilim. Molly was enamored with him so she didn't think he'd be a problem. She hoped he wouldn't be, at least. "Can't be worse than demons, right?"
No one answered.
III
"Harry – I'm sorry," Jack said when they got to the older man's room. He looked like he was about to cry.
Harry was concerned. "Why?"
"Castiel – he talked to me last night. He told me – he said that he thinks that your powers aren't back yet because of me. I promise, I'll try harder," he said.
"Jack – I don't blame you for any of this."
"But you're always yelling at Sam and Dean about binding your grace. And this – this is just as bad isn't it?"
Harry shook his head and wondered how anyone could think this young man was anything but good. "Did you know by not using your powers that I wouldn't be able to use mine?"
Jack shook his head. "No, no, of course not, you've gotta…"
"Exactly," Harry cut him off. "What Sam and Dean did…they knew what it was going to do to me. And they did it without my permission. I know they had my best interests at heart, but that doesn't mean that I think they had the right to do what they did. That's not what you've done. Jack – I know that you don't look like one, but you're just a kid."
Relief flooded Jack's face and Harry felt terrible.
"Are you going to tell Sam and Dean?"
Harry shook his head. "I wasn't planning to. I don't think that you need any more pressure than you already have."
"But…" Jack stopped short.
"But what?"
"Won't they hate you if you keep a secret like this from them?"
Harry couldn't help himself. He burst into laughter, surprising Jack.
"I'm sorry," he said, still laughing but doing his best to control it. "It's just – " He tried to think of the best way to put it. "If we hated each other for keeping secrets we would have split off from each other a long time ago. I wouldn't be surprised if they were keeping a secret equally as big from me right now."
"Why don't you trust each other?" Jack didn't understand. These men claimed to love each other. To be brothers but, from what he had seen, they spent all their time yelling at each other and keeping secrets.
"We do trust each other," Harry said. "Mostly."
"What does that even mean?"
"It means… it means that it's complicated," Harry concluded. From the look on Jack's face, he could tell that wasn't a satisfactory answer. "The three of us haven't had the easiest lives," he said. "And we've all made mistakes when it comes to the other two. Sometimes it's just…easier to keep things back."
"But it's not!" Jack argued.
"Maybe not," Harry conceded. "But it feels easier."
"That's stupid."
"Probably. But it is what it is. Do you want me to tell Sam and Dean?"
Jack thought. "Well, I don't like that you don't trust them," he said. "But I don't want Dean to hate me anymore and I don't want Sam to be disappointed."
"I think you understand better than you think you do," Harry said. "How about this – we won't tell them, but if they find out, it's alright. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
Jack frowned. "You think they'll find out?"
"I would bet money on it," Harry said. "But they don't need to know right now."
"Alright," Jack said. "Then what are we going to do about it?"
"Do about what?"
"Our connection. I need to learn to use my powers."
"You do. But what did Castiel tell you about our connection?" Harry didn't know what the angel would have said to explain it to the young man.
"He said that we are the same. Both Nephilim with souls. That we need each other to live."
Harry processed that. He wasn't sure if that was Jack's interruption of what Castiel said or if that is what the angel had said.
"That's true. But did he tell you why?"
"He – he tried to explain, but I don't think I understood," Jack said. "Something about our human mothers and archangel fathers."
Harry was happy that he wasn't taking a sip of anything at that moment because he would have spat it out.
"Was he wrong?"
"Uh – no. Not, strictly speaking, I suppose," Harry said. "I already have two parents more than most people and, Gabriel, the Archangel, is not one of them. When Castiel explained it to me, he told me that our connection had more to do with our mothers than our fathers. So yes, Lucifer was the one who created you. I guess, in a way, Gabriel created me as I am now too. But more than that, our mothers both gave us something that makes us…more human than regular Nephilim. Maybe something different entirely." Harry could tell that none of this was getting through. "It's our humanity, not our grace that connects us."
Jack's eyes widened. "Oh."
"I have a feeling that it's not really your powers you need to figure out. It's you that you need to figure out. And here we are now – cooped up in this Bunker with Sam and Dean is not the best place for you to get there. You need space to breathe and just be. I think your powers will follow but trying to force it is not going to work."
"What do I do then?"
"You let me worry about that," Harry said. "And about Sam and Dean. But I'm thinking of maybe taking you to England with me for a little bit."
"Would it be safe?" Jack asked.
"Jack, I want to take you to the safest place on Earth."
"That's not the Bunker?"
Harry shook his head. "No. It's not. It's someplace way better."
III
This was it. He had finally found a place where the barrier was so thin and weak that this was going to work. But he was going to have to act quickly – Limbo drained him of his powers quicker than he could use them sometimes.
Thankfully, he had kept some in reserve.
Just a little.
But that is all it should take.
He had been hoping to use it to destroy the boy or his little family but this was giving him the ammunition that he needed to do just that.
There were those still loyal to him on the other side. They had been working tirelessly on this project for as long as he had been stuck here. This would be enough to get him through, but soon after, his army would follow.
And without the atmosphere that suppressed grace he'd be able to make enough soldiers that when his army was able to come over, they would be joined by hundreds of their brethren.
He had been hoping to take Mother Winchester over with him. As a Muggle, it would have been nothing to bring her with. But she had been taken from his camp (and those who lost her had been severely punished) so she couldn't work as the bargaining chip that he had been hoping to use.
His followers told him that Crowley might try and stand in his way. That the demon was already actively working against him.
But he wasn't scared of this supposed King of Hell. After all, he didn't have the know-how that he did.
He took the syringe out of his pocket. There was nothing but a couple of drops left. He tilted the vial back and let them fall on his tongue.
With glowing green eyes, he got the slit open. He slipped through, the portal closing immediately behind him.
He took a deep breath. It was good to be home.
Asmodeus smiled.
It only took eighty-three chapters (I counted) since they first met (including all works in this series) for Harry and Castiel to sort of become friends.
There are a couple of Easter Eggs and hints at the future here. 10 points to whoever can identify what all the plants in the garden have in common.
I'll admit – I really like this chapter. Not a whole lot happens, but we see character development and some good brother moments. I love Sam and Dean teasing Harry the way they might tease each other.
Thank you, as always, to everyone reading. I'm not hearing much (this time of year tends to get that way) but hopefully, no news is good news and not everyone stopped reading news.
See y'all next week!