((Application approved by the Winchesters and Bobby! *Waves paperwork stamped APPROVED*))
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"I mean it, Dean. What would you rather have? Peace--or freedom?"
It was a disheartening way to say good-bye. But Castiel, his recent 'upgrade' nothwithstanding, was tired of shouldering the responsibility that should rightfully have been borne by the
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He was carrying a steaming coffee mug that read #1 Grandpa.
He grinned at the application and set it down. Only now did he address the newcomer:
"It's not a joke. We haven't got Gabriel here at all. The archangel Michael is the school librarian, however. Perhaps he could set your mind at ease."
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The man's tactful allusion to his manners (or lack thereof,) however, diverted his attention from that question. "My apologies," he said, "I'm still not very good at these things." He thought for a moment, and added tentatively, "May I ask your name? ...I would introduce myself properly, if you're certain it wouldn't harm you, but I'd have to abandon my vessel to do it." There was no way he was going to wake Jimmy up and subject him to a situation he wasn't sure he could handle himself.
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When he heard a familiar, if somewhat flat voice, he stopped in his tracks and turned back to the Sorting Room.
It couldn't be.
"C..Cas?"
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He didn't attack immediately. Lucifer had never addressed him as Cas, and the tone was all wrong for the Morningstar. But there was no trace of temporal distortion about the boy's aura, and he couldn't think of any other possible way this person could actually be who he appeared to be. And he was accustomed to dealing in miracles.
Still...
"Sam?" he queried uncertainly after a moment, fighting down an irrational surge of hope, his blue eyes boring into the young man in search of some irrefutable evidence that it was indeed Sam Winchester who stood before him.
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So he could hardly blame the angel for the move.
"Yeah. Yeah, it's me Cas. It's just me."
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Then he lowered his sword-hand to his side, straightened up and strode right up to Sam, craning his neck slightly to peer searchingly into the young man's eyes at close range, his face unreadable.
And then he smiled. To anyone who didn't know the angel well, it would have seemed a cool, subdued expression. But for him, it was the equivalent of an ear-to-ear grin.
"It is you," he said, quietly wondering. "How?"
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"Yeah, I know. Weird. Get used to it, Cas. 'Cause it's gonna get weirder."
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"I'm surprised to find you here as well." He looked around the room. "But then, I'm surprised to find me here. Do you know what's going on?" Aside from having clearly arrived here first, Bobby's knowledge of occult lore surpassed his own in certain respects.
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Bobby didn't sound particularly distressed at this concept. He had finally started to settle in, and with the sudden influx of adopted kin - which included the angel, even if he was unaware of how Bobby felt, was beginning to make Hogwarts feel like a new home.
"But it's not so bad. The boys are here and a damn sight better than they've been in a long time."
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Dean stepped in to the doorway as Cas laid out his mengarie of pocket items and cracked up laughing "Man, Cas only you would offer up crap to try and get in. I think they want more of that angel mojo than any thing else you got to offer." Stepping in he clapped a hand to the Angel's shoulder "Well, looks like heavens gonna have to get along with out their good lil' soldier, less you're lookin' to head straight back." He didn't mean to sound as sarcastic or hurt as he did, he knew none of it was Cas' fault, but it would have been nice to hear from his friend during the last few months he had spent on Earth before being brought to Hogwarts.
"Guess they figured we need the whole team."
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Castiel held Dean Winchester in great esteem and no small affection; moreso, these days, than he did most of his fellow angels. His virtues aside (and there were more of those than Dean himself might suppose,) for reasons still largely unclear to Cas, he simply liked the man ( ... )
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"Your teacher?" he repeated. "I'm not sure I'm qualified to teach in a school of witchcraft." Which was to say, he possessed a great deal of valuable knowledge, both supernatural and mundane; but both his ability to impart that knowledge effectively to assorted strangers, and the wisdom of doing so, were very much in question.
Well, leave that for later, if the matter arose. "What's a Gryffindor?"
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Good fucking god.
"You have got to be motherfucking kidding me," she said, rubbing at one of her temples with her hood as far forward as she could manage. "It's a goddamned infestation. Someone should be called in to spray for you sanctimonious pieces of shit."
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At one time he might have taken offense, but he had learned the hard way that 'sanctimonious pieces of shit' was all too accurate of many of his kin--possibly giving some of them too much credit. (As for Cas himself, well...he was trying.)
He took a cautious step closer to the woman, studying her carefully. At first glance, he might have taken her for an angel herself; the energy that played about her, though faint, felt familiar. And the Fallen he had known (had actually been, briefly, for practical purposes) bore little remaining trace of the divine about them. On closer inspection, though, there was something distinctly off about her that he couldn't put a name to ( ... )
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She crossed her arms in front of her, not stepping back. Let him gawk. Everybody point and laugh at Lee, kicked out for not following the rules. "Lee," she said, giving the name she'd been going by here for over two decades.
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