Of Nightmares and Nose Dives
By the second week of term, Dean had hoped Castiel’s mood might have improved. It had not. If anything, his friend’s stresses had started getting worse.
During the day, when they weren’t sharing classes together, Castiel was either organizing Wizard Chess tournaments or cooped up in the Herbology buildings. He was set on excelling in Herbology - claimed it was the only part of magic that felt out of his control, given that it relied on a thorough understanding of nature, more than of magic. At night, Castiel spent less and less time in the Gryffindor Common Room with Benny, Dean, and Charlie, and more time than ever either writing home or calling in an early night.
One night, towards the end of their second week back, Dean was woken abruptly by a yell from the bed beside his. He opened his eyes, groggy and confused, blinking through the darkness as he pushed back his curtain. There was another yell. ‘Cas,’ Dean breathed, throat dry. The next yell ran through Dean like a knife, and he swung his legs over the bed.
‘What’sgoingon?’ Benny grumbled from the bed on the other side of Dean.
Dean ignored him. ‘Lumos,’ he hissed, his wand lighting up on his bedside table. He grabbed the wand and jumped to Castiel’s bed, pulling back the curtain. Castiel’s eyes were open - they were glowing. His hair had turned completely white. ‘Cas?’ Dean gasped, grabbing onto his friend's shoulders. Castiel was saying something - the words all merging together. ‘Cas, wake up. Wake up. Benny! Benny - get some water!’
Around the room, Max and Raphael stirred. ‘Is he okay?’ Max asked thickly from the other side of the room. Dean gripped Castiel’s shoulders tighter, trying to shield the boy from view. ‘He’s fine!’ Dean called over his shoulder, panicked, and then to Cas he whispered, ‘Buddy, wake up. C’mon, wake up. I got you. It’s a dream. Wake up.’
Castiel was shaking his head, and the glow in his eyes started to die down. ‘Nick,’ Castiel breathed. ‘He’s got Nick.’
‘No one’s got Nick,’ Dean whispered, not sure what Castiel was talking about. ‘You’re alright, okay? It’s just a dream…’
Benny appeared then, a glass of water pressing into Dean’s hand. Dean helped Castiel sit up. The other boy was clammy and shaking, but his eyes had cleared. He looked at Dean. His hair became a muggy brown. ‘Dean,’ he blinked. His hand touched Dean’s cheek, fingertips warm - too warm. ‘What’s going on?’
‘We oughta get you to the Hospital Wing,’ Dean told him, holding Castiel’s wrist as he checked the other boy’s forehead. ‘Look at you, you’re burning up. That was some nightmare.’
Castiel shook his head. ‘Wasn’t…’ he tried saying. He coughed. ‘Wasn’t a nightmare.’ He took his hand back, pressing the heel of his hand to his sweaty forehead. His hair was back to black at last, and Dean could relax, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Max and Raphael hadn’t noticed the transformation at all. ‘I’m fine,’ Castiel mumbled, ‘you can go back to sleep. I just need some air.’
‘What do you mean it wasn’t a nightmare?’ Dean pressed. ‘What was it?’
Again, Castiel shook his head. ‘I need some air,’ he told Dean firmly. ‘Please. Before I’m sick.’
Dean relented, leaning back and allowing Castiel to climb out of bed. He looked queasy, but he touched Dean’s shoulder before he left, a pulse of warmth spreading through Dean’s veins at the touch. Like electricity. It was warm and reassuring. Even if he was panicked about his friend’s health.
‘Merlin’s beard, I’m going back to bed,’ Raphael complained as Dean followed Castiel out of the Dormitory. He blinked, lifting the heavy oak door open, and then Castiel was gone.
‘Cas?’ Dean hissed, fumbling for his wand again. ‘Cas?’
But he was nowhere to be seen.
Dean didn’t see Castiel again until breakfast the following morning. He looked haggard and very much as though he should’ve spent the night in the Hospital Wing.
‘Where’d you sleep?’ Dean whispered as he reached for some toast. He was stressed, but he was still starving. Buttered toast and blackcurrant jam. He pushed the toast around the plate idly, watching Castiel’s every move with care.
Castiel just shrugged. ‘I didn’t much. Not after the nightmare.’
‘Last night you said it wasn’t a nightmare,’ Dean pointed out, ‘last night it was something else.’
At this, Castiel shook his head, lips pressed together. ‘I was barely awake,’ he said quietly. ‘It was a nightmare.’
‘Okay. About what?’
Again, Castiel shook his head. ‘I don’t remember.’
It was a lie. Anyone could see that. For someone adept at Occlumens and reading other people’s minds, he sure was terrible at deceit. ‘Ach, spare me that crap, Cas. If you don’t wanna talk about it, we don’t have to. But don’t play dumb, yeah?’
Castiel looked guilty then. He tore his gaze away, picking out a piece of toast for himself and scooping some fig jam onto a knife. ‘It didn’t make much sense,’ Castiel said quietly. ‘I thought it was something more than a nightmare - but it wasn’t. And now enough time has passed that I barely remember it at all.’
Dean took a bite of his toast, chewing slowly. ‘No offense, but you look like crap,’ he said bluntly. ‘You sure you can’t meta-morph a few of those eye bags? Am sure the people won’t notice.’
Castiel narrowed his eyes. His eye bags disappeared momentarily before returning in the blink of an eye. He took the smallest bite of his toast before pushing his plate away. ‘I have to go,’ he told Dean quietly, ‘I’m late for Sprout.’
Before Dean could argue, Castiel was gone, disappearing into the crowds of students around them.
The nightmares carried on occasionally over the next few weeks. To save disturbing the Dormitory, Castiel took to enchanting his bed to muffle the sound of his screams. Dean knew he had done this, and somehow it made it even more troubling to sleep in the bed beside him. How many nights was Castiel screaming for and Dean couldn’t hear? Couldn’t help him? It made the Winchester feel quite sick just at the thought.
Every morning he would wake up, pull on his trainers, and ask Cas if he’d slept okay. Every morning he’d be met with a shrug. One which became less and less enthusiastic as the days went on.
‘Give it up, brother,’ Benny said one morning, towards the end of September. The two of them were getting ready for a match, the first of the term; Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff. ‘Cas’ll come to us if he needs to. Pushing him will just push him away. You get me?’
Dean just shrugged, pulling his trainers on and flattening his hair with his hand. Benny appeared in front of him, his shirt held in his hands. Dean looked up at his friend from where he sat on the edge of his bed. ‘I want your head in the game, Winchester,’ Benny told him plainly. ‘I want you on pitch. All of you. I don’t want your body on the field and your head out here, worrying about Cas. Every game this year is important - every game we win gets me one step closer to a Puddlemere United contract. Yeah?’
At that, Dean nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said quietly. ‘You got it, Captain. But also - you realize it doesn’t matter if we lose the cup, right? Puddlemere United are judging you not the rest of us.’
He knew his logic had fallen on deaf ears. Benny would not be talked down from this and, to be fair, Dean could understand why. The two of them dressed, pulling their team shirts on over their heads and grabbing their bags. They walked through the castle, across the grounds, and picked their broomsticks out from the shed. Benny had a Nimbus, one of their newest straight off the line. Dean had an Altostratus, a German brand, Bobby had saved up special for him last Christmas.
Benny gave a good speech before the game, reminding everyone to stay on their brooms - no matter what - with a pointed glance in Dean’s direction. Dean just smirked. He knew his reputation preceded him.
Before they head out - the crowd already cheering - Dean was hit with a full body crashing against his. ‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ Charlie panted into his ear, gripping him tightly. Dean wrapped his arms around her. A few steps past Charlie stood Castiel, his hands in the pockets of his robes, looking sheepish. His face was red - not from face paint (although it looked that way) but from the way he had turned his pale skin into the colors of Gryffindor. ‘We had to wish you good luck today,’ she said as she drew back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. She squeezed his shoulder then turned to Benny. ‘And you, Benny-boy. Not that you need it though, eh?’
‘Good luck, Dean,’ Castiel added quietly. It caused Dean’s heart to soar.
Everyone else’s friends had been and gone with their good lucks - Dean had just assumed Charlie and Cas were already in their seats. Castiel came forward and wrapped his arm around Dean’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. ‘You will do amazing. I’ll be watching over you,’ he added, meaningfully.
‘That’s sweet, Cas. Kinda creepy. But sweet.’ Dean punched him in the shoulder, laughing as Cas blinked innocently back.
‘Alright - back up, back up,’ Benny said, pulling Charlie and Cas towards the exit. ‘Anyone who isn’t on the team - we appreciate you, but OUT! We’ve got a game to win and a bunch of Hufflepuffs to tear a new one!’
And with that, the curtains opened. The pitch lay out before them, green as the day it was grown. Dean grinned, stepping out into the arena with Benny and their team. Sam appeared at Dean’s side, his fringe curling into his eyes. All 13 years of him looked lanky but small next to Dean. ‘You ready for your flying debut?’ Dean whispered with a grin, passing a Beater’s bat over to his brother. Sam had made it onto the team during tryouts only three weeks ago - after Gryffindor had needed a new Beater now Lisa Braeden had graduated. The hours of throwing bludgers in the backyard all summer had clearly paid off. Together, Dean and Sam made a strong team of Beaters - even Benny had to admit that much.
The Quaffle was thrown into the air not ten minutes later, and Dean kicked off the ground, soaring into the sky. He kept a keen eye out for the bludgers, squinting as one swerved over to the Gryffindor hoops. Dean pressed down on his broom, zooming over to whack the bludger away from Benny’s corner.
‘Nice one!’ Benny yelled. Dean barely heard it.
‘Sam!’ Dean called out, finding his brother in the middle of the pitch, whacking a bludger that had been en route to one of their Chasers. Sam looked over and Dean held up two fingers before pointing at the Hufflepuff Chaser who had the Quaffle neatly tucked under their elbow. Sam got the message.
Dean hit a bludger over to the opponents’ Beater before spiralling down and flanking the Chaser with the Quaffle. It was McElroy. He grunted as Dean’s shoulder pushed into his, knocking him off track. Sam flanked McElroy on the other side. Underneath them, Krissy Chambers moved into position, directly below McElroy.
Keeping an eye on the Hufflepuff Beater, Dean watched as the girl swung her arm back and THWHACK! Her bat collided with the bludger, sending it straight over to the Winchesters. On Sam’s side, the same happened as the second Hufflepuff Beater hurtled a bludger their direction.
‘NOW, SAM!’ Dean yelled, and Sam pulled up, shooting into the sky. Dean did the same, the two of them powering into the sky - leaving poor old McElroy at the mercy of the two bludgers. They knocked him straight off his broom, only two minutes into the game. As he fell, Krissy Chambers grabbed the falling Quaffle, pulling a 180 and zooming straight for the Hufflepuff hoops. She aimed. She threw. She scored.
Dean grinned, smacking his bat against Sam’s as they passed each other in victory.
‘Ten points to Gryffindor!’ Jo Harvelle’s voice rang out through the stadium, coming into focus for Dean as he whirred past the Gryffindor stands where his peers were cheering. ‘Thirteen year old Sam Winchester joins older brother and long-time Gryffindor Beater, Head Boy Dean on the pitch today!’ Jo continued from the commentary pod. ‘If anyone had any doubts about these two as a team, then they’ve instantly proved you wrong! The Winchester brothers immediately snuck in on McElroy for an age-old tactic. Shame on Hufflepluff’s beaters for falling for that one!’
The game continued. Back and forth Dean hit the bludger, his arm aching with every additional swing. He passed one of Hufflepuff’s beaters, sticking his tongue out as a bludger came flying his direction.
‘A Bludger sent straight for Winchester!’ Jo called out.
Dean waited. The Hufflepuff Beater started to frown. And then, right before the bludger could collide with him, Dean swung himself upside down on his broom, the bludger heading straight for Akhtar, the Hufflepuff beater. She was quick, he’d give her that. She dodged the bludger immediately and whacked it straight in Benny’s direction. Sam appeared then, hitting it across the pitch.
‘LESS GAMES, WINCHESTER!’ Benny yelled, both Sam and Dean looking over at him with a jump.
‘Relax, old man!’ Dean yelled back. He hurtled off.
‘GRYFFINDOR SCORES!’ Jo squealed suddenly.
Dean didn’t even see the goal. He floated up, looking at the game from above and trying to spot the bludgers. Sam had one accounted for and was shooting it over to a Hufflepuff Chaser. But the second? Dean frowned.
He looked right. Then left. Then realised the bludger was heading straight towards him from the front. Fuck. Dean didn’t think, he craned his arm back and whacked the ball as hard as he could, watching as he sent it curving straight towards Benny. Oh - double fuck.
‘Winchester made a blunder - a bludger straight to the Captain! And Chambers has the Quaffle - no, lost the Quaffle to McElroy. McElroy’s nose looks a little broken from his earlier fall. And -’
Jo continued commentating, Dean spurred his broom on, trailing after his own bludger as fast as he could. McElroy had the Quaffle and was heading straight to the Gryffindor hoops. Benny was focusing, swirling between the three hoops - and the bludger was right there, catching up with the entire scene.
With some quick mental maths, Dean realized he couldn’t possibly get to the bludger in time. So instead he yelled, ‘BENNY, MOVE!’. Benny swerved out of line, the Quaffle was thrown, heading straight for the middle hoop. Dean placed his feet on his broom’s back handles and pushed, projecting himself off the broom with one hell of a leap. He jumped into the air, hurtling with the speed his broom had given him. As he flew two feet through the air, he caught up with the bludger, curled his arm back, and - BANG!
His bat caught the bludger, sending it directly for the Quaffle. It collided with the ball, knocking it off course from the middle hoop where it was headed.
Dean barely witnessed his own success - he was still mid-air, no broom, no nothing. He was falling then, faster than he’d anticipated. ACCIO! He screamed in his mind, and his broom - spinning wildly out of control above him - sped his way. Dean caught himself on the broomstick and swung himself back onto his broom, his head spinning and his muscles aching.
The crowd erupted. Dean grinned. He did a celebratory loop-de-loop and punched the air.
‘We don’t call him No-Way-Winchester for nothing!’ Jo cried out with glee - a nickname Dean was pretty sure no one had ever called him in his life.
‘WINCHESTER!’ Benny yelled again. ‘IF I SEE YOU JUMP OFF THAT BROOM ONE MORE TIME, I SWEAR I’LL-’
‘-I JUST SAVED YOUR ASS!’ Dean boomed back, ‘DO YOU WANT TO WIN THIS GAME OR NOT?’ Benny opened his mouth to reply, but Dean cut across him. ‘IT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION!’
With that, Dean spun to the other end of the pitch, swerving down to stop a bludger that was heading for Krissy Chambers. He hit it. Krissy scored. God, even Dean had to admit he was good at this - and Sammy too. The pair of them did make a good team and a good set of Beaters.
The game continued for another ten minutes or so. Gryffindor scored 7 goals. Hufflepuff scored 5. It all came down to the Seekers - and Dean felt his heart leap into his chest when their Seeker, Tessa Thompson, took a dive near the Hufflepuff hoops. The Hufflepuff Seeker soon followed her. Dean chewed the inside of his cheeks. ‘C’mon,’ he murmured under his breath. ‘C’mon…’
Distracted by the bludgers, Dean tore his gaze away and shot a bludger over to the Hufflepuff Beater’s direction. And then another in the direction of a Hufflepuff Chaser. When the stands started screaming but no goals were scored, Dean knew the Snitch had been caught.
‘GRYFFINDOR WINS!’ Jo screamed across the crowds, neutrality completely lost on her. ‘GRYFFINDOR WINS!’
Dean grinned. He swirled down to the floor of the pitch and ran, colliding with his teammates. Alicia was hugged, pat, and scooped up. Benny was tackled to the ground with glee. Sam and Dean were punched in the arms to within an inch of their lives. The stands flooded out, their Gryffindor classmates running to support their friends.
Charlie appeared then, punching Dean square in the chest. ‘What the hell was that swan dive!’ she berated him instantly. ‘I aged about a decade seeing you do that, Winchester!’
‘Benny’s gonna kill me,’ he groaned. Benny hated taking risks like that. Dean was renowned for a “leap first look later” type attitude, but Benny preferred to be tactical - to not get into situations that needed a quick nose dive fix like throwing himself into the air, regardless of the dangers.
‘He’d be right to do so,’ Castiel said, appearing at Charlie’s side. ‘You gave us quite the fright.’
Dean just grinned, pulling Sam out of his friend Kevin’s arms and pushing him forward. ‘Sammy’s debut, though, huh guys?’ he beamed, his brother turning bright red. ‘Not bad for a kid amateur?’
‘You did a great job, Sam,’ Charlie smiled, hitting Sam in the shoulder too.
Whilst the Gryffindors celebrated around them, an origami butterfly appeared, apparently out of nowhere, and swooped directly into Dean’s line of vision. He plucked it out of the air. ‘The hell is this?’ he mumbled, unfolding the butterfly. It was a note. Dean looked up, trying to spot where it had come from, who could’ve sent it. He smoothed it out. ‘It’s for Cas,’ he said then, even more confused than before.
Castiel.
You look even cuter when your team wins.
A x
Dean blinked. ‘What the hell is this?’ he snapped, scrunching his nose up and pushing the note into Castiel’s chest. He wasn’t sure why the note caused a burning irritation in his gut, but Dean hated it. ‘Who’s A?’
Castiel looked down at the note, his brow furrowing. He shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he said slowly. ‘I have no idea.’
His cheeks had reddened, though. This time not from the pseudo-facepaint. Dean swallowed. Despite having just won the first match of the year, he suddenly didn’t feel at all like celebrating. ‘I’ll catch you guys later, yeah?’ he mumbled before gesturing at his kit. ‘I gotta go change.’
He didn’t wait for a response, just turned tail and marched for the broomshed. Why did it bother him so much that Castiel had just been sent a flirty note? Dean realized what it was. It’s because he usually won the game and got the girl. Where the hell was Lisa Braeden for a celebratory kiss when it was needed, anyway?
Trying to bite down his bitterness, Dean made it to the changing rooms and stripped off angrily, listening to the sound of celebrating reverberating through the fields beyond. He skipped the celebrations that night too, choosing instead to spend the night alone in the Prefects Bathroom, avoiding every single person he knew.
You look even cute when your team wins.
Who the hell was A? And what did they want with Castiel?