Parents (027)
Title: Parents
Author: sa-kun
Fandom: Harry Potter, Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Castiel, Harry, Gabriel
Rating: PG
Word Count: 885
Prompt: 027, parents.
Summary: In which Harry has lessons, redecorates his bedroom and talks to Gabriel.
Disclaimer: I do not own.
Author's Notes/Warnings: Spoilers up to book 7 (HP), spoilers for season 4 & 5 (S05E08) of SPN. Part of my crossover series: start here. Masterpost is here.
Castiel came by sporadically. He usually helped Harry with Gabriel's lessons, but they also sneaked off to fly, to walk on water, to take walks in the forest. After a while, Harry found himself telling Castiel more and more about the Hallows, and what he did by extension as the Master of Death. On occasion, Harry would be in one of his lessons with Gabriel when Castiel arrived, and those times, Castiel would quietly sit down next to Harry and direct all his attention to whatever it was Gabriel was teaching.
When Harry and Castiel were alone, though, Harry always had the impression that they were never alone. When they were all in the same room, Gabriel usually stood back and simply watched, an enigmatic smile curving his lips and an expectant tilt of his head. Sometimes he disappeared off to who knew where, but Harry still had the impression that he wasn't as gone as it appeared. Castiel seemed to be under the same impression, as the one-time Harry had wondered if he felt like Gabriel was watching over them as well, Castiel had merely stated 'of course'.
Then, one day, Castiel started bringing gifts. Not for Gabriel, not for Harry, but for something else. Harry wasn't sure what, precisely, the something else was, but he knew enough that it was important.
The first object Castiel brought was a pale green fleece blanket. Harry looked it over, carefully smoothing his fingers over it, before coming to the decision that, yes, this was precisely what he required. Without another word, Harry gave Castiel a curt nod before apparating directly to his bedroom.
The fleece blanket was placed with precision and consideration over the back of his armchair.
Next came pillows and cushions and blankets and downy duvets, all of them deliriously soft, made of materials like satins, velvets and silks. Once, Castiel got his hands on a Kashmir blanket, large enough to cover Harry's bed. The pillows and cushions were soft and fluffy, and the blankets warm. There were rugs, too, all indulgent and supple, feeling glorious against naked feet.
Castiel brought feathers and pieces of glass and crystals in all sorts of combinations - from dreamcatchers to long beaded strings to feather boas - that Harry dutifully hung from the wooden beams crossing his celling.
Harry wasn't sure why he did this, why he accepted some of the gifts Castiel brought, while rejecting others. Castiel never seemed surprised when Harry would reject something either, almost as if he'd only brought those items to test Harry, to make sure Harry felt the same way about the smooth silk encased pillow that wasn't quite up to standards. On occasion, Castiel would bring something he was inexplicably proud of - like the Kashmir blanket - and smile at Harry.
Gabriel was watching all this with an indulgent eye. He was always present when Castiel came bearing gifts. Always. He seemed to know which times were just ordinary visits, and which times were something more. He'd stand back, yes, but he'd oversee the proceedings with the watchful eyes of a hawk. If Castiel lingered too long, or if Harry met Castiel's gaze for too long, Gabriel would pointedly clear his throat.
Something Harry felt strangely grateful for, though, was the fact that Gabriel had stopped coming into Harry's bedroom to wake him up in the mornings the way he had before. He wasn't quite sure why he didn't want Gabriel to see, or why it didn't feel right to show Castiel what he'd done with all the gifts quite yet, but he did.
Until one day, Harry felt the room was ready.
-x-
"Gabriel?"
"Mmmm?"
Harry cleared his throat. "Um. You know this thing I've been doing with Castiel?"
"Yeah?" Gabriel carefully tucked away whatever it was he'd been poking at in his pocket, before turning to give Harry all his attention.
Harry frowned a little, even as he drew a finger down the ridge of Gabriel's right wing, smoothing down the errant feathers that he came across. "Could you explain it to me?"
Gabriel's facial expression softened. "No, kid, no can do."
"But-"
"Dad made us that way, y'know. Able enough that we'd know what we're doing, but not enough to know why. So I can't tell you, because you're meant to figure it out on your own."
"Castiel seems to know."
Gabriel smiled. "He's more angel than you, sweetie. You've felt like you're doing it right, haven't you?"
Harry nodded. "It's just… I don't know why."
"You'll know."
Harry pursed his lips, appearing deep in thought.
"So, um. Papa?" he ventured after a while.
Gabriel started. "You…don't call me that, kid. Okay? It's way too creepy."
Harry grinned and gave Gabriel a sly wink. "I figured, if Sleipnir can call you 'Mama'-"
"Harry, darling. No." Gabriel rolled his eyes, then drew Harry with his wing in a kind of one-armed/winged hug. "You're my fledgling, yeah, you don't call me 'Papa' or something like it. You call me Gabriel."
"Okay," Harry muttered.
"What did you want to say, anyway?"
Harry cleared his throat, fidgeted a little with the hem of his jumper. "I had this feeling that I'm supposed to…show you my room now. So that I can show it to Castiel. I think I need your feathers, too."
Sequel: Children
Author: sa-kun
Fandom: Harry Potter, Supernatural
Characters/Pairings: Castiel, Harry, Gabriel
Rating: PG
Word Count: 885
Prompt: 027, parents.
Summary: In which Harry has lessons, redecorates his bedroom and talks to Gabriel.
Disclaimer: I do not own.
Author's Notes/Warnings: Spoilers up to book 7 (HP), spoilers for season 4 & 5 (S05E08) of SPN. Part of my crossover series: start here. Masterpost is here.
Castiel came by sporadically. He usually helped Harry with Gabriel's lessons, but they also sneaked off to fly, to walk on water, to take walks in the forest. After a while, Harry found himself telling Castiel more and more about the Hallows, and what he did by extension as the Master of Death. On occasion, Harry would be in one of his lessons with Gabriel when Castiel arrived, and those times, Castiel would quietly sit down next to Harry and direct all his attention to whatever it was Gabriel was teaching.
When Harry and Castiel were alone, though, Harry always had the impression that they were never alone. When they were all in the same room, Gabriel usually stood back and simply watched, an enigmatic smile curving his lips and an expectant tilt of his head. Sometimes he disappeared off to who knew where, but Harry still had the impression that he wasn't as gone as it appeared. Castiel seemed to be under the same impression, as the one-time Harry had wondered if he felt like Gabriel was watching over them as well, Castiel had merely stated 'of course'.
Then, one day, Castiel started bringing gifts. Not for Gabriel, not for Harry, but for something else. Harry wasn't sure what, precisely, the something else was, but he knew enough that it was important.
The first object Castiel brought was a pale green fleece blanket. Harry looked it over, carefully smoothing his fingers over it, before coming to the decision that, yes, this was precisely what he required. Without another word, Harry gave Castiel a curt nod before apparating directly to his bedroom.
The fleece blanket was placed with precision and consideration over the back of his armchair.
Next came pillows and cushions and blankets and downy duvets, all of them deliriously soft, made of materials like satins, velvets and silks. Once, Castiel got his hands on a Kashmir blanket, large enough to cover Harry's bed. The pillows and cushions were soft and fluffy, and the blankets warm. There were rugs, too, all indulgent and supple, feeling glorious against naked feet.
Castiel brought feathers and pieces of glass and crystals in all sorts of combinations - from dreamcatchers to long beaded strings to feather boas - that Harry dutifully hung from the wooden beams crossing his celling.
Harry wasn't sure why he did this, why he accepted some of the gifts Castiel brought, while rejecting others. Castiel never seemed surprised when Harry would reject something either, almost as if he'd only brought those items to test Harry, to make sure Harry felt the same way about the smooth silk encased pillow that wasn't quite up to standards. On occasion, Castiel would bring something he was inexplicably proud of - like the Kashmir blanket - and smile at Harry.
Gabriel was watching all this with an indulgent eye. He was always present when Castiel came bearing gifts. Always. He seemed to know which times were just ordinary visits, and which times were something more. He'd stand back, yes, but he'd oversee the proceedings with the watchful eyes of a hawk. If Castiel lingered too long, or if Harry met Castiel's gaze for too long, Gabriel would pointedly clear his throat.
Something Harry felt strangely grateful for, though, was the fact that Gabriel had stopped coming into Harry's bedroom to wake him up in the mornings the way he had before. He wasn't quite sure why he didn't want Gabriel to see, or why it didn't feel right to show Castiel what he'd done with all the gifts quite yet, but he did.
Until one day, Harry felt the room was ready.
-x-
"Gabriel?"
"Mmmm?"
Harry cleared his throat. "Um. You know this thing I've been doing with Castiel?"
"Yeah?" Gabriel carefully tucked away whatever it was he'd been poking at in his pocket, before turning to give Harry all his attention.
Harry frowned a little, even as he drew a finger down the ridge of Gabriel's right wing, smoothing down the errant feathers that he came across. "Could you explain it to me?"
Gabriel's facial expression softened. "No, kid, no can do."
"But-"
"Dad made us that way, y'know. Able enough that we'd know what we're doing, but not enough to know why. So I can't tell you, because you're meant to figure it out on your own."
"Castiel seems to know."
Gabriel smiled. "He's more angel than you, sweetie. You've felt like you're doing it right, haven't you?"
Harry nodded. "It's just… I don't know why."
"You'll know."
Harry pursed his lips, appearing deep in thought.
"So, um. Papa?" he ventured after a while.
Gabriel started. "You…don't call me that, kid. Okay? It's way too creepy."
Harry grinned and gave Gabriel a sly wink. "I figured, if Sleipnir can call you 'Mama'-"
"Harry, darling. No." Gabriel rolled his eyes, then drew Harry with his wing in a kind of one-armed/winged hug. "You're my fledgling, yeah, you don't call me 'Papa' or something like it. You call me Gabriel."
"Okay," Harry muttered.
"What did you want to say, anyway?"
Harry cleared his throat, fidgeted a little with the hem of his jumper. "I had this feeling that I'm supposed to…show you my room now. So that I can show it to Castiel. I think I need your feathers, too."
Sequel: Children