Stranger Than Your Sympathy

Part One - Freshmen Year

Chapter Six

Dean was annoyed. Which seemed to be a more-or-less permanent state for him recently. It had been nearly a week since he had been cornered by Vaught and those other pricks and his friggin' house wouldn't leave him the frig alone.

He had thought it was bad when he had been treated as some sort of freak for being a Legacy Slytherin sorted into the wrong house. They had all gotten a little more tolerable in the days after initiation – he was getting a lot less glares at least.

"I'm not a helpless Muggle, you know," he confronted his current escort, seated at a table just a couple of feet away from where he had just been working.

He was, admittedly, very cranky after spending the last two hours combing through the only disorganized section of this library. The part with old copies of The Weekly Dragon. Some Yahoo had thought it was great to organize them by months instead of years. So all April copies were stored on micro-fiches in one particular drawer. April copies that went back to the founding of the school – 1872. There was no telling if he'd be getting April 1980 or April 1902.

Dean was pissed that he had been jumped. But that was nothing compared to the rage he felt about the fact that his father had been cheated out of the life that he was supposed to have. The best of the best Council hunters made great money – and he had no doubts that his father would have been one of them.

Instead of the stares of disdain, everyone would have looked up to John Winchester.

And maybe, if his father had been properly trained as a hunter he could have protected Mary. Dean didn't know if the hunting lifestyle would have fit his kind and gentle mother but he did know that it would have been a hell of a lot more difficult for anything to get her if John had his certification.

He had to get to the bottom of this. If he cleared his dad's name, maybe everything would change. They would have the resources to really hunt down his mother's killer. They could finally stop moving around all the time. Sam wouldn't have to be homeschooled – he could go to a real school because John would be entitled to a home base for his operations and work cases only in certain parts of the country.

The tension that had grown between his father and brother could dissipate. And they could be a normal family.

But first, he had to find answers.

Ash insisted that it would be easier to find on what he called the "dark web," but Dean knew that the answers had to be here in this library. And he could no longer risk asking Ms. Dar what happened back then because they had almost no idea who on the faculty had been involved in the plot to get his father expelled. Cas had been the one who had found evidence that Mr. Sinclair could be a part of it all. As if the man didn't creep him out enough as it was. The teacher continued to "favor" him in class and it was the worst.

Two hours was all he had to give time to the search tonight because his friends had stopped agreeing to bring him food from dinner, insisting that he eat with them in the mess.

The head of this particular group, Gwen Campbell, gave him an unimpressed look. She was a sophomore and, if what he had heard was correct, already one hell of a hunter. The Campbells were all over the damn school and they were spoken of in reverence – the opposite of the way that he had heard Winchester talked about. Most of them were in Gryffindor, with a few exceptions peppered in any houses other than Slytherin. So far, Gwen was the least annoying of the lot that he had met.

"You sure as hell better not be," she responded to him. "But we can't let those slimy Slytherins think that they can take advantage of our freshmen."

Jody had told the house that Dean had been attacked by upperclassmen Slytherins to convince them to take part in this guard campaign. From his research, Dean was fairly certain that this wasn't a lie, especially considering that Prickolas had been one of the kids who jumped him.

"Look, lady, I've been hunting since…"

"Yeah, yeah, we all know," she rolled her eyes at him. "Look, I'm starving, I'm assuming that you're coming to dinner. Stop being a whiny little bitch and let's go together."

Dean huffed a little at being called a bitch, but he had learned at this point that it was better to not argue.

"What are you looking for, anyway?" Gwen asked as her two friends gathered their stuff for them to all walk out of the library together. "Singer is a hard ass but I can't imagine that you already have so much homework in Lore to need to spend hours looking through old newspapers."

"It's personal," he responded.

Gwen narrowed her eyes at him. "Whatever."

"How'd you get stuck on guard duty, anyway?" He asked. Jody's mobilization of the house was truly impressive. Since that day, there was nowhere in Hogwarts where he was more than a couple of feet away from another Gryffindor. Seeing as there were only about forty students totally in the house, it was remarkable.

"We had plans to study in the library. You were in the library."

That wasn't really an answer to his question.

"Whatever," he said. "I thought that maybe you were just into me because I've seen you more than anyone other than my roommates." He used his best seductive voice and winked at her.

Dean knew the sort of effect that he had on girls (and boys, for that matter) and he was expecting a blush and giggles, but was instead, surprised by a look of total disgust by the other girl.

She actually stopped – right outside the mess hall, to stare at him.

"Ugh, gross," she said, "there is something seriously wrong with you, Winchester."

"What, you're not into younger men?" He asked.

"It's not your age that's a problem."

"Oh – men, then?" That would explain why he was striking out.

"That's personal," she repeated his words back at him. "But no, that's not why, even if you were my type, I don't…"

"There you are, cher," Benny came up behind him and slung his arm over Dean's shoulder, "we had a bet going on whether or not you were going to make it. Cas was sure, of course, after he laid down the law, but Ash said that you weren't nearly that predictable. Thanks, Gwen, I'll take him from here," he winked at her.

She didn't act as disgusted by Benny's flirting as she did by Dean's. She just rolled her eyes and went off with her two friends. They were clearly still talking about what Dean had just said to her.

"What'd'ya do to Campbell?" Benny asked as they walked away, "She looked like she was ready to sock you in the jaw."

"Nothing," Dean said, embarrassed at striking out. That rarely happened to him.

"Uh huh, well, soon you're going to need a guard around anyone in this school. You know they're ten million of those Campbells here and if you get on the wrong side of one of them…"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Did you find anythin' in the library?" He asked as the two of them grabbed trays to start picking up their dinner.

"Bupkis," Dean said forlornly.

"You'll find what you need eventually, you're one stubborn mother-fucker."

"Thanks," Dean said, "you know it'd go faster if…"

"Don't even think of asking again," Benny said as they went over to their table, "you already have us all tied up in one side project. We don't got time for a second one. Not with guard duty 'n all."

"You're late," Cas said as they sat down, with a glare.

"Come on, man, just a couple of minutes," Dean responded.

"Don't mind him," Ash said from next to Cas at the table, "he's only bitter because now he owes me ten bucks."

"Ash – you know better than to bet with Cas. It ain't fair," Benny chided.

"Not my fault he's shit at predicting Dean-o's schedule. I think it's a pretty solid business venture. You know, I've already made over a hundred dollars off him. And we're not even to midterms yet."

Cas scowled. "You just make sure that money goes towards your supply fund."

"Of course, my dude."

That placated Cas, which amused Dean. The kid was going to be an even bigger pothead than Ash by the end of the year.

"Did you find anything, Dean?"

Dean was already very sick of this question. "No."

"Oh. Well, while you were doing that Ash and I were…"

"Not here," Ash hissed at Cas.

Cas nodded.

"Hey – Benny, any luck with Jo today?" Dean asked, changing the subject loudly as Jo passed behind him to sit down.

"He wishes, Winchester," she said as she sat just a couple of places away from them, next to Cassie.

"Aw, Jo, I don't get it. He's the handsomest kid in our year," Dean started.

"Other than you, cher," Benny finished.

"Do you really think so?" Dean asked as dramatically as possible.

"Would I lie about such a thing to you? Don't you trust me Winchester?" The fake outrage was over-the-top and it was very difficult for Dean to stay in character.

Dean sniffed. "Then why are you wasting all your time on that blonde flossy? Am I not good enough for you?"

"Ah, nah, don't you go thinkin' that – but I can't help it, the heart wants what the heart wants you deserve so much more than bein' settled for."

Dean pouted. But that only lasted for a couple of seconds – one glance at Benny sent them both rolling in laughter.

"Ah, just kiss already!" Pamela called from further down the table.

"What makes you think we haven't?" Dean called back.

"'Cause anyone who got a kiss from you, Winchester, would be shouting it from the rooftops."

"Benny – I think you might have some competition," Dean said, looking Pamela up and down.

She winked at him. He did his best not to blush.

"You can have him, Pam, just know that he snores like a rhino."

"I do not!"

"Yeah, you kinda do," Ash said. "But don't worry about it, man, it doesn't bother any of us too much."

"Are rhino's known for their snoring?" Cas asked. Everyone laughed. Cas just shrugged it off and rolled his eyes.

They spent the rest of dinner arguing about which animals snored the loudest and where Dean compared to them.

The good cheer from dinner continued all the way back up to the Tower – which Dean was finding easier and easier, even with his bruised ribs.

He never got the chance to catch up with Ash and Cas about what they had been up to while he had been in the library. Honestly, he had been having such a good time with them and the girls that he completely forgot about revenge for the night.

III

Sam had greatly exaggerated how things were going when he talked to Dean on the phone.

While things weren't as bad between him and John as he thought they might be, they were also not great.

After only a couple of days stuck together with no buffer, the fights had been explosive and there had been no father-son bonding. John hadn't said a damn thing about Slytherin or Hogwarts at all, telling Sam that he was just going to have to find out the hard way like Dean had.

Like Dean would let him go into the situation unprepared.

Sam was happy that he got to talk with Dean, but it still wasn't enough. He still felt like he was missing a limb. And while the home school materials were more challenging than what he was used to in whatever dump of a public school he got enrolled in every year, he was lonely.

It wasn't a new feeling for him. He'd always been a lonely kid.

Dad was always taking Dean off on hunts or even to bars to hustle pool and they often left Sam alone in the motel room. But when Dean was there, he was sure to pay attention to Sam whenever they got back. Made sure that they got time to watch movies or discuss what he was learning in school.

He thought that maybe, with Dean gone, his dad would treat Sam the way he had always treated Dean, but it seemed that it was not going to be the case.

Their conversations were much the same as they had always been. "You've done your homework?"

"Yes, sir."

"What have you learned about daevas while I was out?"

He rattled off what he had found in their lore books.

"That all, kid? People are dying!"

He had been lucky, once or twice, since Dean left, that his dad had wanted to wax poetic about Hogwarts. And he soaked as much of that in as possible.

But it hadn't been much.

But there had been a reason why he had embellished when he had talked to Dean on the phone. He didn't want his older brother to feel guilty for being at school. Sam knew that he had to be careful – if he said the wrong thing to Dean while they talked on the phone, his brother would be on the first boat home.

And as much as he missed him, he couldn't do that to Dean.

Or to himself.

Because if Dean gave up Hogwarts there was no way that their dad was going to let Sam go when the time came. Honestly, Sam was a little surprised that his dad had lasted even this long.

"What's that?" John asked him when he returned in the afternoon. Sam had finished his homeschool work for the day hours before and had moved on to things that were even more interesting.

"More about HUCUSA and the community," Sam said, defiantly.

"What did I tell you about that crap?" John asked, "There's nothing there for you, son. They're stupid, bleeding heart, good-for-nothings. They're not real hunters like me. If you join the council, you'll be nothing but a government stooge. Having to fill out reports after hunts and treat monsters like they're human."

"HUCUSA doesn't execute all monsters?" Sam asked, surprised, he hadn't seen anything about that in what he had read. Granted, he had not been able to find out much about the mysterious agency.

"Not anymore. Not like back in my dad's day," John said, taking a swig of beer. Sam hadn't even noticed him get one from the fridge. "Now, if they "live within the laws," they get to keep on livin' like they're just people."

Sam was horrified. Sure, he knew that it might be possible for some monsters to be not-so-bad, but they were, at the end of the day, murderers. That's how they were able to find them. The most important part of this job that his dad forced them to live was to protect innocent people.

"But what if they break the laws? What then?"

"Then they might kill 'em. But it's never for sure. It's why you can't trust those filthy mudbloods. They're all soft. It's part of the reason that I left Hogwarts."

Sam stayed silent, hoping his dad would say more. And, for once, he wasn't disappointed.

"You see, son, there's a small group within the community – mostly Slytherin's – that are the old guard. We believe in preserving the culture of the true hunters. And we don't suffer a monster to live. Even if they may appear to be human."

"If HUCUSA isn't upholding the old ways, why do they exist at all?"

"That's a great question, son," John said, clapping Sam on the back. "Come on, you need to get packed up, we ship out in the morning. And I'll get you some real literature about hunters. You'll learn."

"I'd like that," and he meant it.

John ruffled his hair. "Yeah, I know. Maybe we'll make a real hunter out of you yet!"

III

"What's a mudblood?" Dean asked idly one day while he was sitting around the common room with his friends.

"Woah!" Benny said.

"What'd'ya say?" Ash got up – hands balled.

Cas looked at them all curiously.

"Mudblood?" Dean said again, more carefully and hushed because of the extreme reaction.

"Where'd'ya hear that word?" Benny asked, looking enraged. "Did someone call you that? Because that is not ok."

"No. No one called me that."

Everyone just looked at him.

Dean caved. "Fine. It's something my dad said when I talked to him on the phone."

The tension that had been there melted away almost immediately.

"Oh," Ash said, "you shouldn't use that word. I mean, never, but especially not in places where someone might overhear you say it."

"But what does it mean?" Cas asked, which Dean was grateful for because he was almost too scared to ask.

Benny and Ash exchanged looks.

"It's a real nasty word," Benny said.

"Yes, I think we understand that," Cas grouched, "why don't you tell us what it means?"

Benny and Ash looked at each other again.

"To the barracks," Ash said, jamming his head towards their door. "We don't want anyone to overhear this conversation. All the goodwill you've generated since starting, Dean, will be right out the window."

Dean had no idea it was that big of a deal. His dad had said the word like it was nothing at all.

Silently, he closed his book and followed his friends into their room.

"So?" He asked, with folded arms once they got inside.

"It's not just offensive, it's also real old-fashioned," Benny said. "Somethin' most people would never say."

"Yeah, you said that already."

"It ain't so easy to explain," Benny snapped. "It's from a time when…well when hunting wasn't really for just anyone. It was a tradition passed down in families."

"Yeah," Ash interrupted before Benny could further explain, "but sometimes, when Muggles got attacked by creatures, they would try 'n start hunting themselves."

Dean knew that, of course. Until very recently, he thought that his father had been one of those sorts.

"So?"

"So," Benny took the narrative back, "they didn't live real long, did they? Without the resources of the community. Died easy. And when they died, 'cause their family wasn't real hunters, they didn't get a hunter's funeral. They were buried in the dirt."

"Which meant that the blood they spilled was covered in mud," Ash explained with disgust in his voice.

Dean could see how that was offensive, but not ducking into their room for fear of saying it aloud sort of offensive. He gave them a blank look.

Benny sighed. "It used to be just that – a hunter that wasn't "pure" line – no Muggles in their family, was a mudblood. Wasn't 'til Hogwarts opened to all sorts, not just kids from those families, that it…changed."

"Because that wasn't bad enough?" Cas asked.

"Yeah," Benny said, "it wasn't. Now it's more complicated. Long and short of it all, if you've got even a speck of "unpure" blood 'n you've got someone who died hunting then…"

Dean felt a little sick.

"It's a nasty taunt," Ash said, "which is why you can't just go sayin' it out loud anywhere. If you don't know the families of the kids here, you could be saying something horrible about them."

"Is there someone here who had a parent die that way?" Cas asked, curiously.

Ash hesitated for a second. "Yeah. Jo."

Dean realized that he should have known that. Jo had told him that her dad had died and he had to have been a hunter if he went to Hogwarts. A strong surge of protectiveness ran through him. He didn't know Jo that well but if anyone ever called her that he would…well, he would shoot them. Literally. "Has anyone dared call her that?"

"Not to her face," Ash said, "at least, not that I know of."

"I'll tear their throats out if they do," Dean muttered.

Benny clapped him on the back. "That's how we know you're one of the good ones."

Dean couldn't help but continue to realize just how horrible it would be to be mocked for the way that a parent died. His mother hadn't been a hunter, of course, but if she had and someone…he hated that so much. And it wasn't like it was something that was always in the hunter's control.

Hell, he had known that fair share of hunting buddies of John's that had died in variously terrible ways and none of them were because they were bad hunters. Sometimes the odds were just so stacked against you that there was nothing anyone could do.

And he couldn't believe that his father, who had lost those friends, had thrown that word out there like it was nothing.

"I'll never say it again," he said with conviction. "God – if I had known…"

"We know, Dean," Benny said, "we know you ain't like that. To make it worse, it's really only rich assholes who use that word. The ones from old huntin' families that have money and power. The kind that usually don't have to dirty their hands none to "hunt.""

"Isn't your family an old hunting family?" Cas asked Benny.

Benny laughed. "Oh, for sure, but we ain't like those families. The Lafittes go back 'fore the Revolution. But we don't rest on our laurels and let others do the dirty work. We're also damn proud of the family members who lost fightin' the good fight. No greater honor than to go down makin' the world a better place."

Dean nodded in agreement. And, in that moment, he made a silent vow to himself. His father had clearly been led astray by being so isolated from the hunting community for so long. Once Dean proved what assholes the "old sort" were, John would see the light. Together, they would clear the legacy and they would no longer be associated with jackasses that laughed at other people's misfortunes.

There was silence for a couple of minutes.

"So…do y'all want to hear what Cas and I found?" Ash asked, slyly. "It goes way beyond the secret entrance to the Slytherin common room.

"Yeah," Dean said. His crusade against the asshats that had attacked him just became even more important. He would make sure that the whole school knew that he didn't want a damn thing to do with jerks like them.

Ash scrambled over to his bunk and pulled out what looked like a poster tube from underneath. With great dramatic flare, he unfurled it on the floor for them all to see.

It was the blueprints of the lighthouse. Looking at it closely, Dean could see that it was so much more than just a map of the common rooms. It included some of the secret passageways they had used during initiation – but even from a casual look, he could tell there were a whole lot more.

Benny looked up – eyes wide. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep," Ash said with pride.

"But that's…"

"Illegal, technically," Cas finished for him. "But, with a modification to the original, which I did myself, it does not count as classified material."

"What modification did you make to it?" Dean asked, having no idea why it would be against the law to have this.

"Oh, that's the brilliance of it all," Ash said, "Cas, do your magic."

Dean managed to just barely contain his flinch.

Cas chanted something in language that Dean didn't recognize. For a second, he could have sworn that his friend's eyes flashed blue, but he was quickly distracted by the pulsating on the map. Dots started to appear. Some had small names listed next to them.

"Keeyau!" Benny exclaimed.

Dean had to look closely but… "Is that where everyone is?" He had no idea that Cas knew any magic beyond the little they had learned in class.

"It is. But the map can only label people I've met and know the name of. That's why some people are still blank." He sounded annoyed.

"Does that mean that you're gonna have to get to know more folks, cher?" Benny asked with a teasing smile.

"Yes," Cas said glumly, "to make this work to full potential. But as you know my "people skills," are rusty."

Benny laughed and clapped him on the back. "Mais, this is brilliant. Where'd you learn that spell, Cas?"

"It's a modified scrying charm," Ash explained, "dunno how he found it but…"

"I told you, I found it on the bookshelf in the spell section," Cas said, annoyed.

"And that book just vanished when I wanted to look at it?"

Cas narrowed his eyes. "It did."

"Cas – that don't…"

"Enough," Dean said, looking at the map. "What's the plan here? We use the map to sneak into the common room and…"

"Alright," Ash said, sticking his tongue at Cas maturely as he focused on the matter at hand, "so, this is gonna take a couple of steps. More than just Cas gettin' to know as many Slytherins as he can. Benny, you've got the best excuse to know this information already, so you're on explorin' duty. And, Dean, you're gonna have to cozy up a bit to Sinclair."

Dean groaned.

"Yeah, we know," Cas said, "but he does seem to like you an awful lot and I don't think that any of the rest of us could pull it off."

"Yeah, tell us the plan," Benny said impatiently.

"Come on, man, you can't rush art," Ash said. He explained what he and Cas wanted to do and how it would work.

The four of them spent the next couple of hours – deep into the night, debating, tweaking, and finalizing everything.

The deeper into it the better Dean felt. It was more detailed than anything he would have come up on his own. He actually believed that they were going to figure all of this out. Not only would they catch the sons-of-bitches who had beaten him to a pulp, they would be able to prove to everyone that John was innocent.

The plan was so good that Dean fell asleep with the biggest grin he might have ever had. This was going to work. Once his dad had a real hunting license and Dean and Sam did too nothing would stop them from finding his mother's killer. And he wouldn't have to choose between his friends and his family.

III

"Mr. Sinclair, could I talk to you for a second?" Dean asked earnestly at the end of class about a week later. It had taken another conversation with his father and some heavy research for him to be ready for this little meeting. Plus, it wasn't like they could focus solely on the organization behind who had attacked him – they had homework, classes, and every day at Hogwarts.

Benny shot him a wink as he walked out the door with the rest of the students.

The teacher looked up from behind his desk with a smile on his face when he saw who was talking with him.

"Of course, my good man, have a seat, Mr. Winchester."

Dean repressed a shudder at the overly familiar tone. He forced himself to smile back and inwardly congratulated himself on his acting skills.

He still felt a little sick for having to do this at all, but it really was the only way to get the information he needed.

"How can I help you?" Mr. Sinclair asked, making Dean realize that he had gotten too stuck in his thoughts.

"Well, sir, I was wondering if I could ask you about…uh…something a little…"

"Yes?" the teacher leaned forward in anticipation.

Dean had to remember the carefully worded phrase. "I have heard that there are certain among us who are…" he stumbled a little bit, "receptors, beholders, chroniclers of all that which man does not understand."

A light took over the man's face as his grin widened. "I was beginning to wonder if the knowledge had passed," he said.

This was also a passcode.

"We must keep the lines pure and true," Dean responded, thankful for his years of having to memorize specific phrases to help his dad on hunts.

"We must indeed," Mr. Sinclair returned, "better late than never, my good sir. I thought that maybe the Letters tradition had died with your grandfather. I knew him, you know. Henry Winchester was a good man."

That was certainly something that Dean had never heard before coming to Hogwarts. His father rarely spoke about either of his parents, but the little he had was to express that Henry Winchester was a no good family-abandoning scoundrel. Something that he, John, would never have done to his wife and sons. Sam claimed that he was just as bad leaving them for weeks at a time on hunts, but Dean appreciated his father's steadfastness to their family.

"He was," Dean mumbled. "Although I never knew him."

"You wouldn't have, of course," Mr. Sinclair said with the utmost sincerity that skeezed Dean out. "But, that's all in the past now. I'm so glad you came to me - you are just in time. I was going to send out invitations to our first…gathering…this weekend."

That was exactly what Dean was hoping for. The legwork that Ash and Cas had done was already paying off.

"May I ask…" He pretended to hesitate.

Mr. Sinclair leaned in even closer to him. "Go ahead."

"The others - who will be there?"

The teacher laughed and leaned back. "Bold - very bold, just like your grandfather," he said with delight. "Of course, you know that I can't reveal the other members. Not until graduation will you know each other's identities. But the cohort is strong this year. There are four of you in the freshmen class - all gentlemen, of course, although we'll keep our eyes out for the lady legacies as well, as their sons will be invited."

Dean once again had to hide his true reaction behind a fake smile. He had been on enough hunts in his life to know that what was between someone's legs did not determine how good someone was.

But that didn't matter. And he already knew who the other legacies in the year were, thanks to Ash's hacking skills. But he was checking to see if he could have what Cas had called, "plausible deniability."

"I understand," he said to Mr. Sinclair. "Thank you - I am happy that I will be allowed to continue my grandfather's legacy."

"Of course, Mr. Winchester," his teacher responded, "I'm sure that you will be a valuable member of our ranks. It was a shame what happened to your father. If Henry had still been around they never would have dared expel him for such a … minor infraction."

Dean's eyes shot up to the teacher. What did he know? He was about to ask, but before he could, his professor looked down at an honest-to-god pocket watch.

"Look at the time! You'll be late for lunch - and it just wouldn't do for you to lose house points. Not very becoming of a…well you know what. You best be off."

With a sigh, Dean grabbed his backpack where he had dropped it on the floor.

Sinclair clapped him on the back. "Don't be so disappointed. We'll have plenty of time to chat after the ceremony."

Again, Dean was tempted to ask more, but he just gave the man one more winning smile. "Thanks, Mr. Sinclair."

"Please, when we're in private, call me Bertie, Mr. Winchester," he said.

"Dean," he corrected.

The teacher looked even more thrilled. "Dean. I look forward to getting to know you better."

With one more repressed shudder, he left the room, ready to report back to his friends.

III

Castiel plastered what he hoped was a sincere smile on his face as he sat at a table in the mess. The girls had helped them make what they had called, "campaign materials," which were really just some posters with nicer handwriting than his own and more glitter than he would have liked.

To be fair, any amount of glitter was more than he would have liked. Ever since his mother had forced him to go to a little girl's birthday party when he was in elementary school and he had left covered in the stuff, he had loathed the material. Of course, when he had been asked about it, he had gone on a tirade about how unenvironmentally friendly that made everyone laugh.

There was a time when getting laughed at would have bothered him. Or, if not that, he wouldn't have understood. Before, with kids his own his age, he had always felt on the outside. He had been homeschooled until now and had always found it difficult to interact with the children at church. They had always seemed like otherworldly beings – and he supposed that they saw the same in him.

He had honestly thought that Hogwarts would be just a long, extended version of those uncomfortable Sundays. But his parents had thought this would be good for him – and he figured that they were wise in a way that he was not and he had obeyed.

Castiel was still shocked that not only had he liked the other students at Hogwarts but they liked him. When they laughed, they weren't laughing at him – they were laughing with him. Like he was part of the joke. Benny was always happy to pull him to the side later and quietly explain the humor. Although he hadn't needed to as much lately – Castiel was getting the hang of it and even played it up a bit. Ash would listen and engage in whatever topic he felt like talking about – whether that be bees or the migratory habits of killer whales. And Dean – Dean was…

"These signs are so cute!" Lisa, a pretty Hufflepuff who was friends with Cassie approached him.

"Thank you," he said, even though he had next to nothing to do with them.

"I heard that your whole year has banded together to help you run for freshmen class president. You must be a great choice." She batted her eyes slightly at him.

He stared at her blankly for a second. Was that a flirtation?

"I – uh, I…" he glanced down at the talking point cards Jo had made him. "I want to represent the interests of all Hogwarts students," he got out, "no matter which house they are in."

"Well, you've got my vote," she said with a wide smile. "May I have a button?"

"Yes, please," he said. He had no idea how the girls had gotten buttons made. Ash had been involved – he seemed to be able to get anything he wanted from town, but beyond that, they had just miraculously appeared. "And please tell everyone in your house to stop by the table. I'm interested in hearing what they wish their freshmen class president had done for them."

That was also a rehearsed line. With one last smile, Lisa walked away.

Only about a hundred more students for him to talk to.

They had spent hours trying to get someone – anyone else, to be able to do the spell that he had used on the blueprints, and even when he wrote it out phonetically and coached them on their pronunciation, he was the only one who was able to do it. They had even tried the girls, without giving them too many details about their plans.

When it became clear that he was the one who was going to have to meet as many students as possible, it had been Jo's idea that he run for freshmen class president. She had been considering it herself and Castiel felt bad taking it away from her, but she said that she could seek political power whenever she wanted to, but their chance of getting back at those slimy-sons-of-bitches needed to be done sooner rather than later to avoid future attacks.

A handsome boy with tan skin that Cas didn't know came up to the table next. He was wearing a Ravenclaw uniform. He plastered a smile on his face one more time. It's worth it to keep Dean safe, he told himself as he entered into the interaction.

III

Dean could hardly believe how fast time went at Hogwarts. Between classes, homework, hanging out with friends, plotting revenge, and trying to research what exactly had happened when his dad had been in school here, the weeks came and went in the blink of an eye. The other Gryffindors still hadn't lightened up on guard duty, which was annoying, but he had also gotten to know a lot of his housemates a lot better.

Some, however, were much chattier than others.

"So…you're another Campbell, huh?" Dean asked the current student who was accompanying him down to the phones today. There was something decidedly off about the whole family. From what he could tell there were currently four of them in Gryffindor - and considering that it was a small school and an even smaller house, that was quite a few. No one seemed to have a lot to say about them, not even Benny. They came from an old and respected hunting family and there were tons of them but they pretty much kept to themselves.

"Mark," the senior responded.

"Right. Mark. Your…brother, Christian is a real creeper, you know."

"Cousin," the older boy corrected, monosyllabically.

"Cousin. Right. How many of those you go?"

"Lots."

Dean wasn't sure if this guy was missing a personality or a brain, maybe both, but this was one of the more excruciating conversations he had with a fellow Gryffindor. Thankfully, he shouldn't have to suffer his company long - they were just heading to the pay phone.

"You all in Gryffindor?" He asked, when they weren't even halfway down the stairs, because he was hoping to get some information out of this kid. He hadn't forgotten his weird interaction with Gwen.

"You ask a lot of questions," Mark responded.

"You don't ask enough questions," he shot back.

"I don't have any questions."

"Come on – everyone here seems to have questions for me. Your family is an old hunting one, my buddy Benny says, which means that maybe you've come across my father at one time or another." He tried to sound casual, but alongside not wanting to walk in complete silence, he was also at a complete standstill when it came to research about what had happened when his dad was at Hogwarts.

Mark scowled. "Yeah."

"And?"

The boy just glared at him.

Well, maybe it wasn't him that Gwen was so offended by.

They passed the rest of their time in silence.

When they got to the payphone, Campbell switched places with a different Gryffindor and that was that.

With a sigh, Dean picked up the phone to call the latest phone number left to him by his brother.

After just a couple of rings, the line was picked up – which was odd, because usually Dad still made Sam follow the protocol with phone calls. It was also weird that he wasn't immediately greeted by his brother's enthusiastic greeting.

A couple of beats later he said, "Hello?"

"Dean."

He froze. It was his dad who answered. Not Sam.

"Sir," he acknowledged immediately. "Where is Sam?"

"Training."

Dread filled him. His dad may have said training, but to make Sam miss the weekly phone call was definitely the sort of punishment that his dad would dole out.

"What'd he do?"

"The usual. Gave me lip. But that's really none of your damn business because you're off at that damn school," his dad sounded annoyed.

That was so unfair. He was at this damn school because John had forced him to come here. Sure, he wasn't eager to leave, but that didn't mean that he had chosen to be apart from his brother. Of course, he said none of that. He wouldn't put it past his dad to give him laps even from wherever the hell the two of them were now.

"Well? How's it going? Don't think that your normal bullshit grades will be enough for me to bring you home. I expect you to not be an embarrassment."

Shame flooded Dean's body. It was true – school hadn't been what he was best at. But that was because he was too busy learning to be a hunter. And his dad knew that.

Then it clicked.

Even without a slur in his voice, the sort of petulant anger meant that his father must have been drinking. That meant nothing good for anyone. He just hoped that he wasn't being too hard on Sam. Normally, Dean was there to be a buffer when John got like this but…

"I got an A on my Sigil and Wards test," he reported, unable to keep the pride out of his voice. "And I have the highest grade of all my friends in Beginning Lore."

John snorted. "Next you're going to tell me that you learned your ABCs."

That stung. Even though Dean had thought many times about how easy the classes were he still thought…he shook his head.

"You're the one who asked how things were going," he snapped, without being able to stop himself.

"What did you just say to me?"

Dean gulped. "Look, dad…"

"No. You gettin' an attitude hanging around all those rich motherfuckers?"

"No, sir," he said, losing his nerve. Some Gryffindor he was.

There was a painfully prolonged silence on the other end of the line.

The next kid who had a call coming knocked lightly on the glass of the phone booth. Looking down at his watch, Dean realized he only had a couple of minutes left.

"I wanted to ask you about Thanksgiving," he said finally. "You and Sam are in Idaho, right? My buddy Ash, he…"

"We're not in Idaho," John said gruffly.

Hope filled Dean's chest cavity. Sam had been working double time to find cases that brought both him and his father closer and closer to Seattle as they got close to the holiday. Ash had talked one of the older kids into giving them a lift to Nebraska to surprise Jo's mom. Dean had been offered the fourth spot in the car because he had a fake driver's license which meant that he could help with driving. It was a long trip – but Hogwarts was built for Hunter's kids so they had the whole week to make the trek.

In last week's phone call, Sam poured over a map to tell Dean the best route so he could be dropped off and picked up easily. John tended to pick an area and stick with it for a month or two, so even though Sam was homeschooled now, Dean was sure that his family would still be close enough for him to make the trek next month when the holiday rolled around.

"Where are you?" He asked excitedly.

"North Carolina," John said.

Dean felt like he had been punched.

"But…"

"Don't think that I didn't see right through the two of you. Sam fessed up days ago when he threw a fit about us coming down south. But I'll tell you the same thing I told him – people's lives are more important than your selfish desire to take a vacation from school."

"I promised…"

"You didn't have any right to promise Sam anything," John hissed. "You understand?"

"Yes, sir," Dean said, sullenly. "I just…"

"I know you want what's best for your brother," John said, his mood changing a 180 once again. "But I think you boys still need some time apart. It's not like I wouldn't like your help on this case, son, but we've gotta get you trained up. Use the break to try and actually make use of the resources at Hogwarts. Learn something besides multiplication tables – and maybe you can get out of the school early like me."

John hung up.

Dean stared at the phone for a second, shocked at the sudden turn of events. If only John knew what he had really been up to then…he shook his head. The next person was there to make their phone call. He brushed past Mark stationed outside as quickly as he could so that he couldn't see the tears of humiliation running down his face.

Sorry this is a day late! I couldn't get ff dot net to upload my document - I'm not sure what fixed it, but here we are.

So, a little bit of bad news. This is my last fully written chapter (although I'm almost done with Chapter Seven.) Almost all of this was written during Nano and then I realized I needed to change and fix a lot of the plot, which sucked up all my writing time. I'm hoping to still have Chapter Seven up next week – but after that there may be a break for a little bit as I catch back up.