Unfound

Chapter Forty-Five

"You spent time in Asmodeus' little corner of this hell, right?" Gabriel asked Mary.

"I was tied up most of the time, but yeah, he showed me around."

"He showed you around? Really?" Gabriel knew the demon was an idiot, but he realized he had severely underestimated how much of one.

"Muggle, remember?"

Gabriel snorted. "Did he forget that you're a Winchester?"

Mary smirked. It was refreshing to be valued again for who she was – not whose mother she was. "Evidently."

"Did he spill all secrets? Did you see any conversations between him and Lucifer?"

"He was working with Lucifer?" Mary asked, going a bit pale.

"Unclear," Gabriel said. "But I think so. I can hardly imagine that he was the mastermind behind this all – he wasn't the brightest of Lucifer's bulbs if you know what I mean."

"It did seem like a fairly complicated plan for him. Did you know that Peter was working for one of them?"

Gabriel's face hardened. "Do you think I would have told you to stick by him if I did?"

"I would hope not, but…"

"He's a rat. And I knew it. But I thought that he was smarter than that. Once I've handed him over to Harry…"

"Hand him over to Henry?" Mary said sharply. "Before the attack, they were telling me that they ought to have known that he was a traitor because of what he did to get himself thrown into Purgatory. They thought I knew. I don't. But you do, don't you?"

"I…yes," Gabriel said.

"You knew he was a traitor and then trusted him to look out for me?"

Gabriel flinched. "I never said I trusted him. I told you not to trust him."

"I don't care. What did he do to my son?" Mary took a step forward that Gabriel found so threatening, he actually backed up a little.

"Not so much what he did to Harry," Gabriel said. "He was Lily and James' Secret Keeper."

Mary's eyes got wide. She remembered Henry mentioning that his adoptive parents had been betrayed but…

"He's the reason Henry got sent to the Dursleys?"

Gabriel nodded.

Mary's face got red. "That son-of-a-bitch," she said. "You let me spend time with him? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Gabriel raised his hands in defense. "I told him that if anything happened to you – anything at all, that I would personally make sure that he was alive when Harry and the Winchesters came for you and I would let him have his revenge."

Mary slapped the archangel.

Gabriel rubbed his cheek. That had actually hurt - his grace was well and truly failing. "I suppose I deserved that," he said.

"How am I going to explain this to Henry? I have my own feelings about Lily and James but he loves them. And I spent time with…"

"Harry won't blame you for one second," Gabriel said with confidence. "That's not who he is."

"Right. Since you know him so well," Mary said bitterly.

"I do. I've been keeping tabs on him his whole life. He's an incredible man." If only I had recognized it sooner, he thought to himself. "Did you know – when he first found out about Peter, that Sirius and Remus were ready to kill him for what he had done? And Harry, as a thirteen-year-old, told them not to."

"Why?"

"Because he said that he figured his dad, James, wouldn't want them to become murderers on his behalf."

Mary couldn't stop the hot tears from running down her face. It wasn't fair. With Sam and Dean, she felt like she had given her life to protect them. But she never even had a chance to give anything of equal worth to Harry and, somehow, despite all that he had gone through, he still turned out so good. And she may never see any of them ever again.

Gabriel reached out to comfort her with a pat on the shoulder.

"Don't touch me," she hissed.

Gabriel backed off. "Right. Of course," he said. "We're gonna find a way back, you know that, right?"

Mary gave him a look.

"And if we don't – your sons won't give up on you. It's not in their nature. They are stubborn assholes. All three of them."

Mary laughed through her tears.

"Now, I'm going to need to know every detail about Asmodeus' operation that you know. Knowledge is power. We're going to need to raid their camp to get what we need."

"Right," Mary said, wiping her tears away. There was no time for that. "It's not very big, so it shouldn't be difficult…"

III

Harry woke up with anxiety flowing through his veins. He hadn't slept well, but he realized that he had gotten about all that he was going to get. He glanced at the clock in his room – it was only about five-thirty in the morning. Sam would be up in about half an hour and Dean a half an hour after that. It was too early for him to come out.

He hadn't been in this room for a bit, and last night he had just collapsed. So, he took some time to cast some cleaning charms, and strip the bed of the linens, making note to try and grab everyone else's and do some laundry. It didn't take much to tidy the room, but he wanted to stay busy.

There was a stack of research that he had been working on at one point or another, so he decided to sort through the papers to see if he could get rid of any of it.

Of course, this was pretty mindless work, so his mind had time to wander.

He replayed his conversations with Sirius in his mind. He regretted what he had said. As frustrated as he was with his godfather's attitude towards Sam and Dean, he supposed that he could understand it. At least, a little bit. He tried to put himself in Sirius' shoes.

Gone for two decades and back to a godson who had a completely different life than what might have been expected.

Harry knew that he was what was left of Sirius' family. He and Teddy, really. All of the changes probably seemed very sudden. And who knew what that git of a demon, Crowley, had poisoned him with. He wished that he had asked more questions about what had happened during his time with him.

Obviously, more than he had previously thought if Sirius wanted to go to him for help.

Help from the King of Hell. Yeah, that sounds like an awesome idea, Harry thought, ruefully. What was Sirius thinking?

He wasn't, was all that Harry could come up with.

All the papers were sorted.

He looked at the clock. Five forty-five.

Not great.

But he couldn't just sit here. And he didn't want to start making any noise in the kitchen either. Plus, the thought of food about now was a little nauseating. He quickly calculated the time difference with the UK and debated flying over there to see how things were going, but he wasn't confident that his powers were up for such long trips. He might need everything he got for whatever was coming their way here.

Which made him think – Jack.

He bet the kid was awake. He flew over to the Nephilim's room.

Sure enough, he was sitting on the bed, cross-legged, watching something on his laptop's screen.

"Good morning, Harry," he said, looking up.

"Morning, Jack," Harry said. "I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd come check on you. Do you mind?" He looked down at the bed where he could sit.

Jack smiled, reached out and pressed some buttons on his computer, removed the headphones that had been over his ears, and moved over. "I missed Netflix," Jack said. "At Hogwarts. I know that Charlie is working on making technology work there, so my phone worked, but without internet, I couldn't watch anything."

"Yeah," Harry said, not entirely sure what Netflix was, but he wasn't too concerned. "But you had a good time there, didn't you?"

"Yes! I loved it. I hope that we get to go back some time," he said. "I'll miss Hagrid."

Harry smiled fondly. "Yeah, he's pretty great, isn't he?"

"He is! But I like being here, too," Jack said a little too quickly.

"Uh huh. I know it's tough," Harry said. "And Sam and Dean – Dean in particular, is pretty rough around the edges, but they – uh, they do care for you, Jack. Like Castiel and I."

Jack didn't comment on that. "Is Ted going to be coming back here too?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I'd rather keep him out of this," at the look on Jack's face he said, "I'd rather keep you out of it too. But I'm afraid that you've not got a choice."

"Because of Lucifer?"

"Yeah. Has he – has he reached out to you at all, like Asmodeus did?"

Jack shook his head. "I would've told you if he did. I don't think he can wherever he is. Because he talked to me a lot when I was – when I was with Mom."

They had talked about that before.

"You know, you can talk about him, with us," Harry said, carefully, remembering what Asmodeus had said. There was something…off about Jack's tone, and he was trying to pinpoint what it was.

"I know," Jack said. "I don't want to."

"That's alright too." Probably better. "Jack – I want to talk to you about our connection…" This was a conversation that was long overdue. And now was as good a time as any.

"I overheard you and Castiel talking about it. But I wanted Asmodeus to stop hurting you. I thought…"

"It was great thinking," Harry said. "I just want to explain more."

Jack looked at him quizzically.

"I – I wouldn't be…alive without you, Jack. I don't know if you knew that. But Gabriel, he made a deal with Chuck…er, God…"

"My grandfather?"

"Yes. Him. Gabriel made a deal with him that he could bring me back – as an angel when there was something…someone as powerful as me. I thought that it would end there, but there's more."

"Where is God now?" Jack asked, which wasn't the follow up question Harry had been expecting. "I'd like to talk to him. More than with Lucifer."

"I don't know," Harry said slowly, thinking this was turning out to be a very strange conversation. "Sam and Dean might. I've never met him."

"Oh," Jack said. "Well, I'm glad that you're alive," he said.

"Thanks," Harry said with a chuckle. "I'm glad you're alive too."

"Can I ask you some questions about seventh-year Transfiguration?" Jack asked, changing the topic abruptly. "It's just, that I'm not quite sure that I understand this one theory. Professor McGonagall said that she wanted me to take the NEWTS to prove mastery but…"

"I will do what I can. It's been a while since I've looked at any of this stuff."

Jack pulled out a textbook.

Harry let all thoughts about Lucifer, wizard demons, Sirius, and trying to get into Limbo leave his mind for a little bit. Helping Jack with homework – felt natural. And homey.

And like a problem that he could actually solve.

III

Dean stumbled into the kitchen way too early in the day for his liking. Sam was already in there with a cup of coffee, a stack of books next to him, and his laptop open.

Sam looked up for a second, nodded at him, and then went back to what he was working on. It was something that Dean deeply appreciated about his brother. He knew better than to try and engage him in conversation before his first cup of coffee. The safest bet was to wait until the second, even, and Sam usually gave him that space.

"What are you finding?" Dean asked when he was finally awake enough to talk.

Sam sighed. "I think I can piece together the spell. The problem is that I have to adapt a ritual that is meant to open a rift in time and space to a whole other version of Earth."

Dean shuddered. "That sounds like a terrible idea."

"No kidding. Limbo is closer than an alternate reality. I don't think that it will require quite as much power. But then, of course, I have to adjust the other ingredients and if I get it wrong then…"

"What does it call for?"

"Archangel grace."

Dean sucked in a breath. "And both the archangels we know are currently in Limbo."

"Exactly. And also, both pretty unwilling to give it up."

"Harry would be able to talk Gabriel into it," Dean said confidently.

"True," Sam said. "But, like I said, I think we can actually use a substitution. Watered-down grace should still be enough to get us to Limbo."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Both Harry and Jack have grace thanks to an archangel. And Jack opened the rift once before. I'm thinking that together…"

"You really think that's a good idea?" Dean asked with a frown, remembering how terrible Harry had looked when they had rescued him. "After everything, Harry's already gone through?"

"It's not ideal, no," Sam said. "But if it's the only way…"

"I don't like it."

"I don't either. But don't look at me like that. I want to do whatever it takes to get Mom back. And if this is what it takes…"

"Just keep lookin'," Dean said.

"You could help, you know," Sam said sharply, pushing a book at him.

Dean glared, took the book, and started reading. Just to prove a point more than anything else. He knew Sam meant well. But he was worried about Harry. His middle brother was beginning to look a bit like he had before he had died. And Dean didn't want to risk him getting even close to that again. He wasn't sure that he would be able to live with himself.

III

"This is an absolute and complete nightmare," Hermione said after Ron had told her the news. "This is worse than anything I could have imagined. How are we going to keep people safe?"

"I don't know," Ron said. "But we'll figure something out."

"Ronald – this is bigger than us."

"So was Voldemort, and yet…"

"That was a fluke. And mostly Harry."

"That's not what Harry would say," Ron countered. "It was a group effort. And I'm not talking about just the three of us."

Hermione knew that was true. But, the last time, she hadn't been this responsible. And she felt like she was collapsing under the pressure. The demon attacks had largely stopped since Harry's miraculous save at Saint Mungo's. Popular opinion believed that he was responsible for bringing an end to those attacks. The Wizengamot was already starting to talk about another Order of Merlin for him. As if that was something he cared about.

But this – this felt beyond the abilities of both Harry and her government.

"Let's take this one step at a time," Ginny suggested gently, piping in for the first time. It was just the three of them. Bill was currently introducing Charlie to McGonagall. Castiel and Luna were with them.

"What's step one?" Hermione asked, a nervous giggle escaping her mouth. She had no idea where to even start.

"Well, they're demons, right?" Ron asked.

"Demons with wizarding magic," Hermione said. "I don't even know how that is possible."

"That doesn't matter," Ginny said. "They are more powerful than your average demon. But wizards have been safe from demons for…well, ages, really. But that's because they're scared of us."

"Yeah, because we have angelic magic," Hermione said. "If Harry and Castiel are to be believed. Wizard demons do too…"

"Ok. So, what if they do? With the Men of Letters gone, there is nothing stopping us from raiding their library," Ron said. He was glad for an excuse not to tell Hermione about the secret library at Hogwarts. "They were experts at fighting all manner of creatures. Including demons. And angels."

"And Sam figured out how to build a modified demon trap for wizards," Ginny remembered. "Ted told me it works – he used it on Sirius. Maybe, if the regular demon trap doesn't work, we can invent something new."

"How many people are going to have to die before then?" Hermione asked sharply.

"Hermione, we can only control so much," Ron said. "Hey – you know Harry got one of those tattoos that his brothers have? The demon trap one? You know, it stops them from getting possessed."

"How do you know that?" Ginny asked.

"He showed me," Ron shrugged. "When I asked him about what he had been up to – right when he came back from the UK."

"Are you suggesting we tell every man, woman, and child in Britain to get a tattoo?" This was getting beyond ridiculous. Harry or no Harry, she'd be booted from office the second she suggested it.

"Of course not," Ron said. "But it's a place to start, isn't it?"

"Take a deep breath, Hermione," Ginny instructed, seeing that her sister-in-law was starting to hyperventilate. "You're not alone. We're not alone. Not only do we have the entire government to help us out, but we also have the DA, the Winchesters, and Harry."

"Poor Harry," Hermione said, feeling a surge of sympathy for someone other than herself for a moment. "He can never catch a break, can he? Always the end of the world."

"Harry's fine," Ginny said. "And so are you. So – step one, right Ron? We send Aurors to Kendricks. Step two – we figure out how to protect ourselves from them. It's a start."

"It is," Ron said.

"Hermione?"

She nodded. She didn't feel better but it was better than nothing.

III

Castiel had always liked Luna. It wasn't just that she was special to the angels. He had watched her family several times over the generations, but all of Heaven knew that there was something special about her.

When she had collected his feathers and returned them to him as if they were something precious, she had sealed herself as a human he would never forget. There were a lot of those, at the current moment, for him.

But he wasn't so sure about this.

"It'll be ok, Castiel," she said. "You know I wouldn't lie to you."

"But you're also not all-knowing. And the angels mostly want to murder me."

Luna tilted her head. "They did. But times have changed. I know that you've mostly turned off angel radio, and I don't blame you, but you'll find that angels are far less likely to try and kill any one of each other right now."

Castiel still wasn't sure he believed her, but that didn't stop him from stepping up to the sandbox.

"Hello!" He called out. "Hello! It's me, Castiel,"

"Shhh," a sound came from inside the little structure on top of the slide in the jungle gym. Castiel was startled that he hadn't noticed there had been someone there with them the whole time.

The owner of the voice, an angel in a male vessel, came sliding down the slide, with a paper bag in his hand.

Castiel took his blade out, ready to defend himself.

"Indra?" He asked when he saw who it was.

"Castiel," the angel said, stumbling to his feet. "Nice blade. Uh, are we going to fight?"

"No, no," Castiel denied. "I don't – I don't want to. I…I just need to get into Heaven."

"Ok, who's stopping you?"

"This isn't exactly the welcome I was expecting," Castiel said cautiously.

"Yeah, well, we're all learning how to deal with disappointment lately. Look I could, uh…get it together to, uh…battle if you want. I mean, none of the angels are exactly thrilled with your, uh "ongoing adventures." But personally? Meh."

He drank from the paper bag.

"Is that a…are you drunk?" Castiel looked back at Luna slightly to confirm that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing. She nodded but continued to just stand and watch the interaction.

"Well, not yet," Indra said, "but if I keep drinking at a pace, it starts to at least take the edge off."

"Indra," Castiel scolded. "This is an important responsibility. You're guarding the gates of Heaven."

"Oh, you think it's an important responsibility? You?" He laughed and continued to drink from the bag.

"Indra!"

"Hey, hey, between us, if you wanna just…say we fought and angel blade me right now, that'd be ok."

"Is that a joke?" Castiel asked, hoping that it was.

"Is it?" Indra shrugged.

"Inda, what's wrong?"

"She knows," he said looking at Luna.

Castiel looked at her with surprise. "I don't, not really," she said softly. "But I think maybe you're going to need to go up there."

"But I don't want to leave you here. With Indra…"

"Indra and I can have a lovely conversation," Luna said, looking at the angel. "Would you like to talk with me, Indra? We'll guard the gate together while you go."

"You're Luna Lovegood," he said, a small amount of reverence that neither one of them expected to hear coming out of his tone.

"That's right. And you're the angel Indra. You have a storm inside of you."

He looked at her with surprise.

"I do," he admitted. He didn't take his eyes off Luna when he addressed Castiel. "Go see Heaven for yourself," he said. "And for what it's worth, good luck."

Castiel gave Luna a questioning look. This hadn't been the plan.

"Go ahead," she said.

With trepidation, Castiel stepped up to the portal.

The hallway he came into was empty. It was leading up to the throne room, which was also empty. "Hello!" He called out. "Hello…hello…"

Three angels appeared in front of him. "Dumah," he said with some relief. "I need to talk to you. I…I know you want to murder me, and I know you have good reason to want to murder me. But there are events unfolding on Earth and, um, well, we need help. Lucifer has done something terrible…well, I actually think it was Asmodeus who did something terrible, but that doesn't really matter. What matters is that we need…" He stopped talking with the bright lights of the hallway dimmed several times before coming back on. "What is that?"

"Castiel," Dumah said. "I think, I think that maybe we could help each other."

III

"Oh Harry," Sam said when Harry finally came into the kitchen. He had spent the last several hours with Jack. He had lost track of time.

"'Bout time you woke up, sleepin' beauty," Dean grumped at him.

"Don't mind him, he's in a bad mood because it's been all research, no action, all day," Sam said. "We're glad you got some rest."

"I – er, haven't actually been asleep," Harry said sheepishly. "I've been helping Jack with his Transfiguration homework."

"What?" Dean asked at the same time that Sam asked, "Homework?"

"Yeah. I guess it's not really homework, but he was having trouble with…" he saw the unimpressed looks on his brother's faces and stopped there. "Jack getting better at magic makes me better at magic," he defended.

Sam leaned back from the table and crossed his arms. "Since when?"

"Since…well, honestly, since you bound my magic," Harry said.

"But you're better!" Dean argued.

"Kinda," Harry said. "Cas figured out…"

"Yeah, and what the hell is going on between you and Cas?" Dean demanded. "Are you dating or something?"

Harry gave him a look and wrinkled his nose. "No. That'd be like dating…you. Or an aunt or uncle. Gross."

"But with Gabriel…"

Harry sucked in a breath. "Gabriel's different. And also, I'm not now, nor have I ever dated him either."

"But he loves you," Sam said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Getting a little off track here, mates," he said.

"Right. You're magic and Jack's," Sam said. "What's up with that?"

"I exist because Jack does, right?"

Sam and Dean nodded – they knew that.

"Well, we balance each other out. Cas and I don't completely understand, because with my magic bound, Jack shouldn't have been able to do anything, but…"

Harry's phone started ringing.

So did Sam's.

And Dean's.

They all looked at each other. And then at their phones.

"Hermione," Harry said, looking at his caller ID.

"Ginny," Dean supplied.

Sam scowled. "Ron. How'd I get the short stick?"

"I bet they're all together, I'll answer. Hermione – everything alright?"

"Harry! Over here, I've got Harry!"

Sam and Dean's phones stopped ringing. The three of them looked at each other.

"What's going on?"

"Harry – it's terrible. There's been an attack."

"Where?" All three of them answered in one voice.

Hermione didn't comment on it. "In the United States. Harry – it's Ilvermorny."

"The school?" Dean asked, placing the name.

"Yes. It's – well, we don't know how many people are dead. But the term just started and there are children in there. The demon – a witch demon – she's demanding you go there," Hermione said.

"Absolutely not," Dean said. "We have no idea how to fight that thing!"

"She is saying that if you're not there before lunch, she's going to slaughter every man, woman, and student in the school."

Harry paled. "I've got to go," he said. "I'm on it, Hermione." He hung up the phone.

"Harry – wait," Sam said.

"Did you hear that, Sam? Children. A whole school of them is in danger. Because we reopened the bloody gates to Limbo."

"We didn't know what would happen," Dean said. "You can't go alone."

"What, you want to go with me?" Harry laughed without humor. "You can't. She'll…"

"We don't care," Sam said with an edge to his voice. "You're taking us. We're not taking no for an answer, Harry."

"But finding Mom…"

"Mom's been in Limbo for months," Dean said. "And she would not be impressed if she came back and found out you were dead."

Harry wanted to fight them on this. And he knew that he didn't need their permission. But… going it on his own had never worked out for him.

Castiel had been trying to convince him on this front too.

"Ok," Harry agreed.

That shocked both of them.

"Ok?" Dean asked, to be sure.

"Yeah. Let's go. Sam, take my left arm, Dean, my right."

"Wait. What about Jack?" Sam asked.

"We should take him too," Dean said.

"That's not…"

"We don't have time to argue. I don't think it's a good idea. But we should tell him we're going. How about you two do that, and I'll gather a couple of supplies."

"Nuh uh," Dean said. "The last time you agreed to something this easily, the second we left, you did the exact opposite. We'll all go see Jack and then collect the supplies you need."

Harry shot him an annoyed look. "Sam…"

"I agree with Dean," Sam said. "You haven't been trustworthy before."

"Fine," Harry sighed. "Jack. Then a couple of items from the magical part of the Bunker. We need everything we can think of. You got the knife?"

"Yeah, but it won't work on him. We tried."

"You didn't say that. Alright – angel blades, we'll each need one."

"That might not work either," Sam said.

"We won't know unless we try," Harry said.

"Right," Dean said. "Let's go."

III

Castiel had been waiting in the throne room for what seemed like forever. The lights kept flickering on and off, which was very disquieting. Finally, Dumah comes back in.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," she said.

"It's fine," Castiel said. "Actually it's – it's not fine, because all of creation is possibly at stake, but here we are."

"Yes, well… There's a lot going on."

"Yeah, I noticed. Dumah, what did you mean that we could help each other?"

"Getting into Limbo and fetching Gabriel," she said. "If you can do that, and bring him back to us, back home, and we can help with everything else – the wizard demons, Lucifer."

"We can't figure out how to get in. Or how to defeat the wizard demons. That's why I need your help."

"Right. Well, then, that's a problem."

"I don't understand. Can't you find a few angels to – "

Castiel's eyes went wide when he saw who entered the room. He thought she was long dead. Long, long, long, long dead. He couldn't help but feel fear to his very bones.

"That's enough, Castiel," Naomi said. "It's not that we won't help you. It's that we can't."

III

"Mutt," Crowley said in greeting. He was leaning back on a sofa, wearing only a dressing gown. His face was pale and clammy. It was very disturbing. "I wasn't sure you were going to come back."

"I wasn't sure I was going to come back either," he said. "Could you – I don't know, put on some clothes?"

"Don't pretend that you don't want a piece of this," Crowley flirted.

Sirius made a face. "Demon scum? I'll pass, thanks."

"My sources told me that you weren't too picky when it came to magical creatures," Crowley said. "First your werewolf then a vampire. I have to admit, I thought that Benny had more of a thing for Dean but when I found out it was you that was the object of his desire. Well. I was pretty impressed."

"Remus and I weren't a thing," Sirius snapped. "And don't you dare dirty Benny's name with your mouth."

"My mouth is nothing if not dirty," Crowley teased. Sirius was not amused.

"I'm reconsidering my decision to come back."

"Ah, don't be like that. You got the books?"

"Yeah. And a couple extra."

He handed the stack over to Crowley, doing his very best not to touch the man.

Crowley raised an eyebrow. "This is more than I asked for."

"That's what your mum said to me last night," Sirius shot back, maturely. He was in a bad mood – stuck between a hard rock and a demon. He hated that he had been reduced to this. It was dirty, working with him.

"My mother would eat you alive," Crowley said, unconcerned. "Alas, Lucifer killed her. Supposedly. I haven't seen the body and I won't believe it until I do."

"Your mother is still alive?"

"Yeah, yeah, you can save your condolences for later. I don't have long to figure this spell out. Kev was able to point me in the right direction, but it'll still take some looking. Be a dear, fetch me a glass of whiskey. I'll take the top three, you take the bottom two."

There was a joke in there, but Sirius wasn't going to go for it. He was questioning this decision. Was this what was best? Should he have… no. He had decided, he was doing this.

He summoned the carafe of whiskey and handed it to Crowley, took the bottom and the top books, and skittered over to the other side of the room.

Crowley looked at the carafe, shrugged, and took a swig, before putting it down and going for the books. He was so close he could almost taste it.

III

"Woah," Sam said when he looked up. "This is…"

"Magical," Dean finished. "But I think we left the burner's on back at the Bunker, so, Harry, you better fly us back…"

Harry hit Dean with a spell without much of a second thought.

Dean shook his head. "That was weird."

"That was a Muggle Repulsion Ward," Sam said.

"It's not as nice as Hogwarts," Jack said with a tilt of his head.

Harry smirked. "That's right, Jack. But you might not want to say that too loudly here. The Americans are a little touchy about the subject, I've found."

"You're American," Dean pointed out. Harry waved him off.

He strode to the main gate, where a crowd had formed.

"Excuse me," he said politely trying to make his way through the crowd of concerned people. No one paid him any mind. He started to push a little more. "Please – I'm trying to get through to…"

There was a loud gunshot behind them all.

That caught everyone's attention and they looked behind where Dean, Sam, and Jack were standing. Dena had his gun pointed up at the sky.

"That's Harry Potter," he yelled. "MOVE!"

All attention was immediately on Harry. The other three were able to move in behind him and follow as the crowd parted.

Whispers of surprise followed them as they waded through the throngs of people. Harry quickly made it to the Aurors at the gate.

"Paulson," he greeted one of them – recognizing him from when he had originally come to the US.

"Potter!" The man responded – eyes wide. "We had heard, but we thought… how'd you get here so quickly?"

"Hermione called," Harry said simply. "What's the situation?"

"There's a woman in there – a witch, we think, but like nothing we've ever seen. Spells keep bouncing off her. And she set up some sort of barrier that prevents us from entering. Potter – there are children in there."

"Yeah, I'd figure as such for a school. Paulson if you can control this crowd and keep them calm. We've got this. Sam – go see what wards he threw up and get Charlie on the phone to see if you can get them dismantled. Jack – I want you to fly into the castle and get as many people out as possible. Dean – you stay here," he threw the orders out easily.

His brothers were not impressed.

"Fuck, no!" Dean said. "We're not letting you go in there alone."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "That's practically a suicide mission."

"We don't know that," Harry said.

"Harry, you can't do this to us again," Sam said, a plea in his eyes.

"We won't let you," Dean said gruffly.

Harry suddenly realized what this was about and huffed. "I'm not trying to die. I don't think that self-sacrifice is going to be necessary. I can feel the wards – I don't think they will allow anyone but me, and maybe Jack in now. That's why I want Sam to work on getting them down. Once they are, please, feel free to run in. In the meantime, I would feel better if there was some protection out here for these people."

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"No time for this, mates," Harry said.

"Fine," Dean agreed. And everyone was off.

III

They had moved to Naomi's office. Being in there made Castiel want to crawl out of his skin. "How are you alive?" He demanded.

"A drill in the head wasn't going to kill me. You should know that."

"You know, I have to admit I was… I was relieved to hear you were dead."

"We never did see eye-to-eye."

"No, no we didn't, because you stole my memories, and you threatened to "tear me apart," and you made me repeatedly act out Dean Winchester's murder, and you killed many, many people."

"Those were simpler times," Naomi said wistfully.

"I'm sorry goes a long way."

"Mm-hmm. After Metatron attacked, I had a few reliable angels spread the word that I was dead."

"So, you've been hiding?"

"Recovering."

"All this time?"

"Well, forgive me for taking a few years to put my thoughts back in my skull. There are still a few holes – pardon the phrasing – but I'm mostly here. I have to be." The lights flickered again. "Do you know what powers Heaven, Castiel?"

"Yeah, us. Angels."

"That's right. We're all…Every single angel is like a walking, talking battery." The lights fluctuated again. "And that is what happens when we run out of power."

"I don't understand."

"Well, then, let me make it divinely simple for you. There are a grand total of nine angels in Heaven, present company included, and two or three on Earth, and…that's all. We are the last men and women and divine waves of light still standing, as it were."

"No, that's, uh… That's not, um… I knew our numbers were small."

"You wanna know why we can't help you? Because none of us can leave. We're the only things keeping the lights on. Barely. We need everyone, especially an archangel. Now the others thought any archangel would do. Long story. Gabriel is…for a lack of better word, blessed. With his power, we can keep heaven running."

"And without him?"

"Without him, in time, we'll burn out. Heaven will crumble, and all the souls that have been entrusted to our care will fall back to Earth. Picture it Castiel – billions of ghosts unleashed upon the world. All that chaos, all that death."

Castiel didn't want to picture it. But he was here for a reason. It was obvious that Heaven needed the same thing that they did.

"Gabriel – I know where he is."

"Do you?" Naomi leaned forward. "You must convince him to come home, Castiel," there was something in her tone that surprised him. It wasn't an order like she normally issued – she was begging. She was desperate.

"He's trapped," Castiel said. And hopefully alive, he thought. Harry seemed to think so. "To get to him, we need archangel grace."

"And you think that's just laying around up here?" Naomi asked.

"No, I suppose not," Castiel said. "But I remember that we once had a supply in the armory…"

Naomi snorted. "Yes. The armory that your friend Balthazar pillaged for your war?"

Castiel winced. He didn't like to think about Balthazar or what had befallen him at his hands.

"But surely…"

"We will look," Naomi said. "But I think that you would have as much luck as we do, finding it. If you can get Gabriel home, we may be able to help you with your little…wizard demon…problem. But only then."

Castiel nodded. There was no point in arguing.

She led him out – back to the playground. She nodded at Luna, who was sitting next to Indra. "If you find Gabriel, tell him what's happening in Heaven," she instructed.

"And if I can't?"

"We'll do our duty…keep things running."

"For how long?"

"Ah, that's the scary part."

"We will find a way to fix this. We will."

"This may be one of those things that can't be fixed, Castiel."

"This is Heaven we're talking about."

"Everything ends, Castiel, come, Indra," she said, and the tipsy angel stood with Luna's help and support.

"Everything ends," Castiel said, numbly.

"But until then," Naomi said, "the gates of Heaven are closed."

She disappeared with Indra, leaving Castiel alone with Luna.

III

Harry approached carefully, reminders of his Auror training running through his head. This was a hostage situation.

The woman – who, even from behind Harry could tell was a demon, stood looking towards the doors of Ilvermorny. The mist was thick in the mountains, adding to the eerie feeling around them.

A leaf crunched under his foot, altering the demon to his presence. She turned around quickly, hands out, looking ready to use demon magic.

What Harry saw in front of him was horrifying. He always could see a demon's face under their human meat suit, but this – this was one of the worst things he had ever seen. There were simply no words.

He didn't have a chance to say anything before a flash of magic came his way that he barely managed to dodge by flying slightly to the right.

"Woah!" He said, drawing his wandblade.

"Potter," the demon said. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't come."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "That wouldn't be very like me, would it?" He asked. "I'm afraid that I don't have the same level of acquaintance as you. Who were you before someone hit you with an ugly stick?"

"Oh, I'm sure you've heard of me," she said with a smirk. "I was quite powerful in my time. Of course, I could only imagine the kind of power that now runs through me. I'm Gormlaith Gaunt."

Harry tilted his head as if the name meant nothing to him. "The Gaunt line is long dead. I saw to that myself. Can't say I remember you from the lineage, but, then again, I never bothered with learning Pureblood history. Seemed useless to me."

She hissed and shot a spell at him.

He dodged again. Looking at her now, he could see a faint resemblance to Voldemort. He had a feeling that like her descendant, whatever magic she had done in life had helped contribute to her looks now.

"That the best you've got?" He taunted.

"You have no idea what I've got, boy," she said. She lunged at him and punched him in the stomach. It was hard enough that it actually made him double over.

She took advantage of it by hitting him with a curse and cutting into his arm as he twisted away slightly.

He hadn't known that someone could cut him with magic as an angel. The first spark of fear ran through him.

Harry conjured his wandblade and moving from being holding his now bleeding arm, he twisted and dove towards her, stabbing her in the heart.

Or so he thought. There was some glowing under her skin but instead of dying, she laughed and pulled the blade out. She dropped it the second it was fully in her hand, though.

Wand bite, Harry thought as he summoned the blade back to himself.

"It'll take more than that to kill me," she cackled. "And you're the supposed great champion of wizardkind?"

He didn't say anything, just shot the same killing curse that he had used on Asmodeus on her.

For a second, the smirk was wiped from her face. She stumbled back a couple of steps, seemingly unable to find her footing.

He watched, ready to watch her collapse.

But she didn't. She found her feet and lashed out again, this time hitting him in the jaw.

"Argh," he shouted in pain, as he could feel the blood start to run down his throat. "That shouldn't be possible," he muttered mostly to himself.

"Doesn't matter what kind of magic you use on me," Gormlaith taunted. "You can't kill me. Not by blade or by magic. I'm too powerful."

"Good for you," Harry panted, trying to get himself together enough to attack again. "What do you want?"

"I want to burn this abomination of a school to the ground. Then the real work can begin."

"If you wanted to burn this place to the ground you could have done so without calling me in," Harry said sharply.

She cocked her head. "Yes. And I will – but I promised my master that I would deliver a message to you before I did."

"Asmodeus is dead."

She threw her head back in laughter. "That weakling? The disgrace that disgraced his father's name? No. My true master – Lucifer."

Harry's blood ran cold.

"Ah, I can see that you know he's alive. Good. That was where I was going to start. Not only is he alive. He's got your mother. And, if you know what's good for you, you'll get the rift reopened before something…unfortunate…befalls her. And you'll bring his boy with you. Then you'll make an even trade. Your mother for the boy."

Normally Harry could tell if someone was lying to him. He couldn't get an idea either way from this woman. Which both scared him and reassured him at the same time. She could be lying. He just didn't know.

"I don't have a way to reopen the rift," he said. "And even if I did, I wouldn't let him step foot back in this world. I'd go through and kill him myself."

She smirked.

"He thought you might say something like that. Which is why I'm here today. You can't kill me, Harry Potter. And you can't be everywhere at once. Every day that you fail to open the portal to allow Lucifer back into this world, I will kill at least a dozen witches and wizards. We've already begun, you know. I'm sure it's made the news by now. I'll start in Britain. It'll be a pleasure to wipe out the mudblood scum that resides there. If I run out of the British, I'll keep tearing my way through the entire wizarding world. I won't stop until either every witch or wizard is dead or my Master is back here."

She shot something else at him – something that knocked him off his feet. As he lay on the ground, she came over and gave him a couple of kicks for good measure before cackling one last time and disapparating with a loud crack.

AN – Yay for Friday! I can't believe how quickly this week went.

I hope y'all don't mind me uncreatively using and existing HP villain (ish). I considered using Voldemort, honestly, but decided that would be worse, lol. Plus, if he was around, I feel like I would have had to foreshadowed that way earlier.

Thank you, as always to my commenters and reviewers! See y'all next week.