Revision
‘Hmm… Name of the wizard who invented Wolfsbane?’
‘Damocles.’
‘Nice. Ingredients needed to brew a Draught of Living Death?’
Dean frowned up at the Common Room ceiling from where his head was resting in Charlie’s lap. He twisted his lips momentarily.
A day had passed since the Winter Solstice Dance, and nobody had managed to see much of Castiel. He’d successfully avoided Charlie, Dean, and Benny all day by working with Sprout in the Herbology buildings, and then sneaking off to sleep at nine o’clock. Nobody had wanted to push him too hard into hanging out, especially as his eyes were redder than usual and his jaw set in an uncharacteristically tight stare whenever Dean had spotted him.
He wanted Cas to be okay. God, that’s all he wanted.
Once he’d given Cas a couple days to relax and process the shitty things April and Raphael had done, then Dean would coax him into hanging out before exams. Just a few days. Some space.
Raphael had also been out of sight since the incident, and Dean wondered idly where the other boy had slept after the dance - because his bed had been empty that night and in the morning. He was probably running from the situation with his tail between his legs, and good, was all Dean could think. Because he’d be more than likely to sock Raphael if the boy showed his face around Dean.
It was a Sunday night and Dean and Charlie were left revising for their upcoming Potions exam together. Benny had lucked out in not having any exams first thing on a Monday morning, so he’d gone to bed a couple hours ago, leaving them slouched on the squishy couches by the fire, Dean’s head in Charlie’s lap and his legs over the arm of the sofa. The Common Room was empty aside from them. It was nearing two o’clock in the morning. Charlie had reassured Dean countless times already that space would be good for Castiel - the whole year knew what had happened at Slughorn’s Dance, and he probably didn’t want any stares sent his way. He probably didn’t want to be around people. It would only make him feel worse.
Charlie poked Dean’s forehead. He blinked. ‘Draught of Living Death, Dean,’ she repeated.
‘Uhhh… Christ, Charlie, you’re not going easy on me,’ Dean mumbled, bringing himself back into the present. He stared up at the Common Room ceiling, catching sight of a spider in its web above his head on one of the wooden beams. ‘Um. So - start off, there’s standard potioning water. Valerian root. Moondew. A Sopophorous bean... Powdered Root of Asphodel. Infusion of… Wormwood? And a flower head. Right?’
‘Ding ding ding!’ Charlie grinned. ‘Got ‘em all. But one.’
Dean groaned. ‘Which one?’
At this, Charlie poked Dean in the cheek and tapped on his forehead. He swat her hands away, batting at her in annoyance. ‘Sloth brain. You should’ve known that one. Aren’t your kind hunted for it?’
‘Very droll,’ Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair. ‘Sloth brains shouldn’t be in anything drinkable.’
‘Well, according to this book they’re something of a delicacy.’
Dean was about to retort when the Common Room door swung open. It was nearly 2 AM, not exactly a regular time for people to be coming in and out of the Gryffindor Common Room.
Dean sat up and he and Charlie looked over the top of the couch. There was a giggle and a hushed whisper, and Dean squinted to try and make out who had entered through the low light of the fire.
‘Lumos,’ he whispered, not even reaching for his wand.
The lights nearest the door illuminated and there, as Dean suspected, stood Raphael and April. Dean stood up immediately, his fists clenching. He didn’t even realize he’d reacted until he was standing face to face with Raphael, his chest rising and falling. Raphael looked at him, his face immediately slipping into panicked neutrality, whilst April slunk back into the shadows.
There was a lull of silence. Just the sound of rain against the Common Room window panes. A creak from the old building’s infrastructure.
‘You two have some nerve showing up here,’ Dean said eventually, hearing the coldness in his own voice. He looked over at April, lip curling. He shot her an unfeeling wink, every movement laced with his anger. ‘Pretty sure you’re in the wrong Common Room, sweetheart.’
April pressed her lips together, tilting her head to the side. Her hand was in Raphael’s, Dean hadn’t noticed it before, but it made his blood pump faster than before.
‘Calm down,’ April said, voice like silk - it felt like chalk against a blackboard to Dean’s ears. ‘I’m only dropping Raph off for the night. You won’t have to share a room with me tonight, big boy.’ She winked in return, and Dean stepped forward. Charlie caught his arm.
He looked back at Charlie. Her eyes were wide in a silent leave it alone, but Dean shrugged her off. He hadn’t talked to April all term - he’d let Cas get going with his business, but now he wanted answers.
‘Why’d you do it?’ Dean asked bluntly, shooting his glare back to April and Raphael. ‘Why’d you tag Cas along like that - and then shit on him like he meant nothing? The hell is wrong with you?’
April tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She was pretty, Dean had to admit it. She was lithe, with golden red hair and bright eyes, freckles across the tops of her cheekbones, and she had an innocent demeanor - like she was full of youth and needed more protection than protecting from. Dean’s stomach twisted when they made eye contact.
‘I liked Cas,’ April said plainly, bluntly - as though she was speaking the truth. Dean didn’t believe a word of it. ‘I liked him a lot - but he liked me a whole lot more than I liked him. How do you break up with a guy who worships the ground you walk on?’ She looked at Dean, her eyebrows sloping together - a look of concern crossing her face, but it didn’t feel like real concern. ‘I thought he’d, you know, throw himself off the Astronomy tower if I told him I started having feelings for Rapha - or something. I thought it would hurt him too much.’ She swallowed, pressing her lips together with regret. ‘And besides, we weren’t even a thing, really. He was too shy to even hold my hand. So I figured, the less he knew about Raph and me the better, until we could figure out how to talk to him about it. The way he found out was bad, but I’m not evil, Dean. I wanted to protect him. Isn’t that what you want, too? To protect him?’
Isn’t that what you want, too? To protect him?
Dean thought about it. He’d spent all term trying to protect Cas - trying to stop him from getting involved with someone that might break his heart. And now April was standing here, saying she had been protecting Castiel whilst she’d been breaking his heart?
‘Bullshit,’ Dean snarled then. He pointed a finger directly at April, stepping around the couch. ‘Fucking bullshit. You were protecting yourself. Because you wanted to keep Cas on the bench whilst you fooled around with Raphael here on the side. And you,’ he looked at Raphael then, who took a step back. ‘What the hell kind of friend are you?’ It was said with the most vitriol Dean could manage (which was a lot).
Raphael opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again. Like he couldn’t quite think up on the spot one good justification that he could say out loud. At least he didn’t try and hide behind sweet talk like April.
‘You treated Cas like shit,’ Dean said, his tone hard. His glare harder. ‘Both of you. And you took advantage of the fact that he’s the nicest guy on the planet. And way outta your league by the way,’ Dean added, popping his eyebrows at April. She flushed angrily.
‘Someone sounds a little jealous,’ she retorted, clenching her fists. She stepped around Raphael and into Dean’s space. ‘You know - Cas always used to complain about you. I never turned him against you - you did that yourself. So I don’t know why you’re standing here, defending a guy who couldn’t even stand you when you were friends.’ She tilted her head, her perfume sticking in the back of Dean’s throat unpleasantly. ‘He is not the nice guy you think he is. He’s as morally depraved as Rapha and I. I didn’t force him to skip all your Quidditch games. I didn’t force him to stop sitting with you at meals. Or to spend time getting high with me instead of wasting his life going to stupid little parties with you. All I did was show him a good time, and he forgot all about his little loverboy Dean and came running to me. So maybe you should save your loyalty for someone else, hm?’
Dean scowled. He hated that it stung. That April had hit home. He shook his head. ‘Get out of this Common Room before I throw you out myself,’ he said, voice deadly quiet. A rumble in his chest.
‘My, my. You’d hurt a girl?’
‘Baby, I would do more than that. And you don’t want to wait around and find out. I’m giving you five seconds.’
April scoffed. She turned to look at Raphael. ‘Well, we better wrap this up,’ she said breezily, and as soon as she’d looked away Dean became aware of how close she’d been. She stood on her tiptoes half a step away from Dean and pulled Raphael down for a sickly sweet kiss. Dean grimaced.
‘God, get a room,’ he growled as they pulled apart. He flicked his wrist and the Common Room door swung open. ‘Now get out.’ April looked at him and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
‘Honestly, Dean,’ she smiled, her hand lingering on Raphael’s chest idly, ‘you know I see straight through you.’ She twisted her lips in false, sweet, condescending sympathy. ‘Behind all that roughness, there’s just a boy dying to be loved by his best friend.’ She winked. ‘Guess I’m just more his type, hm?’
It was the final straw for Dean. He felt the rush of power through his veins - felt the pulse of magic push through him before he could even stop it - his anger, his hurt, his everything, popping out as a sharp BANG! Resounded in the common room and April was knocked backwards. In the blink of an eye, her hair turned from light ginger into two large, incredibly detailed, and realistic antlers. Charlie gasped from behind Dean, and Raphael ran to April’s side, shock on his face.
Anteoculatia. It’s what Dean had thought, without even thinking. It had been years since he’d used magic without explicitly intending to, and now he just looked at April - trying to keep his glare neutral - as she screamed. Like it hadn’t surprised him just as much.
‘I’m pretty sure most Veelas are quite attached to their hair,’ Dean snarled, knowing he was twisting the knife, but April’s voice rang through his head and he couldn’t bring himself to care. Guess I’m just more his type, hm? ‘I don’t know if you’ll be as alluring with stag horns to flirt with instead.’
‘You’re a piece of shit, Dean Winchester,’ April hissed, her face morphing into a sharper, harsher version, twisting her beautiful features into something evil, twisted, and cruel. Something hard to look at. Dean knew Veelas sometimes transformed when angry enough, but she was only part Veela, so the transformation didn’t take its full effect, instead, she just looked ridiculous with her morphing mouth and oversized antlers.
‘The hell did you do to her?’ Raphael burst out, but before he could do anything else, Dean tilted his head forward and pushed. He could feel that same power pulsing through his veins. A stream of energy to tap into. April was swept off her feet, thrown out through the portrait hole and into the corridor beyond the Gryffindor Common Room with a resounding crash.
‘Fat Lady,’ Dean called. Calmly. As though nothing unusual was transpiring. As though April’s words weren’t on repeat in the back of his mind. Behind all the roughness, there’s just a boy dying to be loved by his best friend.
The Fat Lady appeared in a neighboring portrait inside the Common Room, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She looked annoyed at having been called, but interested in the commotion.
‘Change the password, please,’ Dean instructed, feeling himself revert to his title. His role. Head Boy Dean Winchester. ‘And please alert Professor McGonagall that she ought to come to the Common Room as soon as possible. We’ve had an instance of two students out of bed after hours, and worse - a male Gryffindor student has been found sneaking a Slytherin female student into the Gryffindor Common Room late at night.’
The Fat Lady pressed her lips together and nodded before disappearing through the portraits, heading through the castle.
‘You’re an asshole, Dean,’ Raphael insisted behind Dean. He grabbed Dean’s shoulder and tugged him around roughly. ‘Go out there and fix April’s hair, right now,’ he demanded. And then, ‘You realize we’re just going to tell McGonagall everything when she arrives. You’ll be in even more trouble than me and April - hexing a student.’
Dean raised an eyebrow coldly.
‘Dean,’ Charlie said from across the room. ‘He’s right, you should-’
‘Raph. What the hell are you doing in Gryffindor?’ Dean interrupted, staring down Raphael. Raphael was shaking his head, getting riled. ‘No seriously,’ Dean pushed on, shoving Raphael in the chest lightly, causing him to step back away from Dean. He wanted to get a reaction out of him - anything other than this silence, this acceptance. That he could do shitty things and get away with it. ‘You’re the biggest fucking coward I know. And delusional.’
‘Shut up,’ Raphael said firmly.
‘No. You’re fucking spineless. And if you think shacking up with April is worth stabbing Cas in the back, then boy are you stupid, too.’
‘You don’t know what you’re fucking talking about,’ Raphael snarled, pushing Dean roughly.
‘She’s a fucking bitch,’ Dean spat.
He hit a nerve. Raphael’s fist came out and swung at Dean. He dodged it, stepping back from the blow. Raphael tilted out of balance before correcting himself and glaring at Dean.
‘Hating me and April won’t make Cas wanna suck your dick’ Raphael spat, his voice rough and his breath heavy. ‘He was done with your ass long ago. You’re an arrogant, self-righteous piece of sh-’
Before he could finish, Dean’s fist collided with his jaw. He dropped like a sack of bones. Dean hissed and shook the pressure out of his hand, his knuckles sore.
‘Dean,’ Charlie gasped, rushing forward to his side.
She held onto his elbow tightly and looked down at where Raphael was lying, out cold. He was a tall guy, too. Dean couldn’t help but be a little bit impressed with himself at the blow.
‘You’re gonna be in so, so much trouble,’ Charlie said meekly.
Dean swallowed and looked down at Raphael on the floor, his knuckles still tingling. The adrenaline was still pumping through him, but that rational part of his brain was switching back into gear and reminding Dean how fucked he actually was for this. But there was some blind rage that came with the fact that these guys had hurt Cas. Had messed with him all term. Had led him from Dean. Had made him cry. Had made him feel like shit.
‘I don’t care,’ he murmured at last, not looking up at Charlie. And it was true. ‘All due respect, Charlie, but I honestly don’t care. Cas and me ain’t exactly been on the best of terms lately, but - no matter what I said, or what he did, or didn’t do… he’s my friend. And I care about him. Even when we’re not talking, I care about him. Even when we’re fighting, I care about him. And I’d rather punch a few assholes in the face than let them just get away with treating him like crap. Because Cas would never defend himself, he’d just take the hit. Someone has to look out for him.’ He looked at Charlie then, almost desperate for her to understand, and her eyes were so sad. Dean felt all the anger leave his system in that moment, the tension in his body spilling out as he relaxed his shoulders. He covered Charlie’s hand on his elbow, twisting his mouth for a moment. ‘I’d do the same for you,’ he said. And he meant it.
But even Dean had to admit that his rage on Castiel’s behalf felt different than how it would for Charlie. Or Benny. Or even Sam. Dean was mad because April and Raphael were right. Because Cas had ditched him this term, and he had been avoiding Dean, and nothing Dean had said had brought him back around, none of it mattered. Castiel had stopped caring about him. Had gotten over him. Moved on. He’d even said it himself the night before, in the Owlery. And yet here Dean was, still wanting to punch the sons of bitches who’d hurt his friend. Even though Castiel hadn’t wanted anything to do with him all year.
‘McGonagall is gonna kill you,’ Charlie whispered, even as reality began to crash down onto Dean. She drew him into a tight hug then, and Dean didn’t resist in the slightest.
He melted into it. Her arms around his neck. His face buried into her shoulder, red hair brushing against his skin. His heart had been thumping fast this entire time, and as Dean focused on inhaling and exhaling, he felt his pulse finally begin to tame. He close his eyes, forehead creasing as he tried to let go of all his anger.
After the longest moment, he smiled a little into Charlie’s jumper. ‘At least I won’t have to sit that Potions exam if she does,’ he pointed out.
Charlie’s laugh was a warm huff against his neck. Her hands smoothed down his back as they pulled apart. She looked so sad. Dean felt awful for making her look that sad.
There was nothing more that could be said however, until McGonagall and Filch arrived. They stood side by side, waiting, before the Professors rushed in no more than ten minutes later. McGonagall was dressed head to toe in a Tartan dressing gown and slippers, her hair tied up in a Tartan head scarf. She stopped short when she entered the Common Room, aghast.
‘What in the name of Nicholas Flamel is going on here?’ she hissed, glaring straight at Dean with a, frankly, murderous look in her eye. Even Dean felt his blood run cold. His skin clam up. ‘A student, unconscious! Another hexed? One of you had better have a very good explanation for this.’
She addressed them both, but her eyes were only on Dean. Hard set. Lips a fine, barely visible line. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen McGonagall so furious in his life - and he’d definitely made her mad before.
He had no idea what to say. Hey, I got into an argument with these guys. They were dicks to my friend. No, I wasn’t directly involved. Yes, that friend and me have been ignoring each other for most of the term anyway. But - justice. They needed repercussions for being - for being assholes. That’s justification enough.
But before Dean could open his mouth, a throat cleared from the Boy’s Dormitory staircase.
‘It was me, Professor.’
Dean and Charlie snapped their heads round in surprise, even as Dean schooled his face to remain neutral.
Castiel stepped out from the stairs, his feet clad in his teddy bear slippers, and his Pride of Portree jumper pulled over his Muggle Pink Panther pyjama set. Dean hadn’t seen him in those clothes all term. His hair was stuck up and his eyes downcast. A soft flush spread across his cheeks as he came to a halt at the bottom of the staircase, in front of McGonagall.
‘Cas,’ Dean started, but Cas glanced at him briefly and crossed the Common Room to stand in front of McGonagall, head bowed.
‘Professor, it was me,’ he said again. He spoke like he was remembering it by rote. Like he’d thought about this before making this decision. ‘I was in the Common Room here revising late, when Raphael came in with April. He snuck her in here. And I was mad because - well, because they had been secretly seeing each other whilst I was still dating April, so I took out my anger on them.’ He paused. His throat rippled as he swallowed, and Dean wanted desperately to pull him to one side - ask him what the hell he was doing. But he was frozen.
Cas continued. ‘I hexed April, and I punched Raphael… If Dean and Charlie hadn’t heard the commotion and come downstairs, then I probably would’ve done worse. They stopped me, calmed me down, and then sent for you.’
McGonagall pursed her lips, holding a hand to her chest, aghast, as though she couldn’t quite believe that Castiel - her prized Chess student, Castiel Novak - was the reason for two students getting sent to the Hospital Wing in one night. ‘I see,’ she said at last. She looked torn between anger and shock. She settled on anger. ‘You are aware, I’m sure, Mr Novak, of the seriousness of this situation? It is one thing to hurt one student - but two? 150 points will be taken from Gryffindor. And I will be writing to your parents about this - and you will be receiving further punishment. This is… appalling behavior.’
Castiel nodded, still not looking up. ‘Yes, Professor.’
McGonagall looked up at the rest of the room. Raphael stirred on the floor, lifting his head up with a groan.
McGonagall gestured at Raphael on the floor. ‘Mr Filch, if you don’t mind escorting Mr Finnermann and Miss Kelly to the Hospital Wing for the night. Mr Novak, I want you to wait outside my office. Now, if you don’t mind,’ she barked. Castiel flinched a little before skulking past her. He made it to the Common Room entrance before he looked back, meeting Dean’s eye.
The room around Dean went silent in that moment. He tried to figure out what was being said in Castiel’s eyes. What that look meant. Was it one of guilt, gratitude, or regret? Dean couldn’t tell. And before he could interpret it any further, Castiel was tearing his gaze away and climbing through the portrait hole. Out of sight.
Filch lifted Raphael off the floor roughly and McGonagall shot him a stern gaze as the boy blinked at her, a little dazed, a little guilty. Mostly confused.
‘Whilst I in no way endorse Novak’s response to this situation,’ McGonagall began, exhaling through her nose like a dragon as she glared at Raphael, ‘let it be known Finnermann, how deeply disappointed I am in your actions too. Gryffindor is a house of nobility, loyalty, and honour. Do not besmirch our reputation with your immaturity. 50 points from Gryffindor, for sneaking around the Castle late at night, allowing Slytherins into the Common Room, and not upholding the standards of our House. There will be 50 points from Slytherin for Miss Kelly’s poor behavior also.’
With that, Filch half dragged Raphael out of the Common Room, leaving McGonagall with Charlie and Dean. She turned her stern gaze back to them then, and Dean held his head high as he felt Charlie shrink away a little at the anger that glinted in McGonagall’s eyes.
‘Now then,’ McGonagall said with a sigh. Some of that anger dissipated. ‘I don’t entirely trust I know all that has occurred tonight, but I do know it takes some bravery to hold back a friend from doing something reckless - and a great deal more to report them for their behavior.’ She looked between them both for a moment, studying them over her half-moon glasses. Her eyes settled on Dean, and he saw something akin to pride glint through her eyes. It made him flush with guilt. Shame. Undeserving. Self-hatred. ‘10 points each to you both,’ McGonagall announced quietly. ‘Now, you ought to be in bed, don’t you think?’
Dean wanted to pull her to one side. Tell her the truth - tell her he should be the one getting detention for fifty years, and he was the one who lost the House Points, and that he shouldn’t even be Head Boy, because he’d been so fucking stupid. But he just stood there. Numb. And he nodded when Charlie nodded, his knees a little weak.
‘Yes, Professor,’ Charlie mumbled, at his side. She started to head for the Dormitories, nudging Dean as she did so. Reminding him to get moving. He sniffed and began to follow suit.
‘Winchester, a minute,’ McGonagall interrupted as Dean started up the stairs.
He paused and turned back around, coming to stand at the bottom. He looked across the Common Room as Charlie disappeared into the Girl’s Dormitories. And then, without the steady security of Charlie’s presence, Dean suddenly felt very lost. He swallowed and looked at McGonagall. She looked him up and down, her hands clasped at her front.
‘You are Head Boy,’ she reminded him firmly and Dean’s stomach swirled, ‘a title you were not given lightly. A title you have been given because of your strength of character, your resilience, your excellence in studies, and your willingness to do what is right. I trust that you will do what is right, Dean.’
Dean swallowed, feeling his stomach bottom out. He wasn’t sure McGonagall had ever used his first name before. And he wasn’t sure if she was aware of what had really happened - that she knew it was Dean who’d caused the fight. He had no idea what she was even referring to.
‘I will,’ he promised with a nod, the words tasting sour in his mouth. He was a poor excuse for a Head Boy. ‘But - Professor - please…’ he looked up and swallowed again. ‘What happened with Castiel, it’s more than that, it’s-’
McGonagall held up a hand, halting Dean as he spoke. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing slowly. ‘I am aware of Mr Novak’s situation,’ McGonagall said calmly, and Dean licked his lips nervously. ‘There is no need for you to defend him - we know about his brother. We know that this term has been particularly difficult for his family whilst Nicodemus has been missing.’’
Dean blinked. He wasn’t sure he’d heard McGonagall correctly for a moment, but she was looking at him resolutely, as though Dean had a single clue what was going on. ‘Right,’ he said quietly, before nodding slowly. ‘His brother. Yeah. That’s… yeah. Tough.’
Tough? Dean racked his brain, trying desperately to think of anything that could have been mentioned this term, anything he might have missed - but Castiel hadn’t talked about…
Dean paused. He remembered Castiel’s nightmares. He’s got Nick. And his letter - No word on Luke. Maybe it was a middle name - like Nicodemus Luke Novak. Maybe? Dean swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest, and he looked at McGonagall with renewed energy.
‘Do you think he’s dead?’ Dean asked out loud. Before he could stop himself. He flushed as McGonagall raised an eyebrow at the abruptness of Dean’s questions. But it was valid - what if Nick was dead? What if Voldemort had killed him? And Cas and his family have been looking for him for all this time - but he’s already gone?
McGonagall pressed her lips together, as though assessing the situation.
‘He’s not dead,’ she said at last. She looked torn. It was rare that she looked torn. ‘I was going to send for Castiel first thing in the morning,’ she said quietly, ‘his brother was found a few hours ago, around 11:30pm, at quite a severe crime scene. I presume it will be in The Daily Prophet by the morning. Castiel will know before then.’
Dean blinked. Not sure how he’d stumbled into this information. ‘Wait, so he’s alive?’ he pushed on, confused. Because first, Nick was missing. Now he’s found? All within a few minutes. ‘Is he okay - did they hurt him?’
At this, McGonagall frowned deeply. ‘Did the Aurors hurt him?’
‘No,’ Dean shook his head. ‘I mean, like, the Death Eaters. Or - or whoever it is that took him, or whoever dragged him into a crime scene. Did they hurt him? Is he okay?’
‘Winchester…’ McGonagall looked - sad. ‘Nicodemus Novak wasn’t a victim at the scene of the crime. Novak was the criminal. He was found at the scene late this evening and he escaped the Aurors who were sent for him.’
Dean’s whole body went cold. His skin tingled. All the blood rushed to his head, goosebumps creeping up his arms and neck as he registered what McGonagall was saying.
‘What… what are you talking about?’ Dean mumbled.
McGonagall shook her head, sniffing as she stepped closer to Dean. Her hand moved then. Just one. It came to rest on Dean’s shoulder, and she squeezed gently. ‘Nicodemus has been missing, and for some time it’s been unclear whether he left voluntarily, but now it’s confirmed. He left in order to join the Dark Lord. Did Novak not speak to you about this?’
Dean hesitated. He wasn’t sure he could hear anything around him over the sound of a sudden ringing in his ears. If - theoretically - one of my brothers did go dark? You don’t think they would tell Voldemort about me?
Dean felt sick. He thought he might actually vomit, there and then. Because Castiel’s brother was - a Death Eater. And all the signs had been there, right from the start. And Dean had missed them.
‘Professor,’ he said weakly, feeling the guilt and the shame all catch up with him at once. He looked at McGonagall and blinked hard. Her hand slipped from his shoulder. ‘Cas didn’t tell me about any of this. He never even said his brother was missing.’
The truth spilled out of him. He wanted to say everything, just then. Wanted to tell McGonagall about how awful things had been all term - how out of reach Castiel had felt. How scared he’d been during that nightmare. How Dean was the one who’d punched Raphael today, not Cas. He wanted to tell her everything.
But McGonagall took a step back from him, and the moment was gone. Something crossed her face. Regret, perhaps? Dean searched her face desperately, trying to step back into the moment where he felt he could confide in her, but it was too late. Her jaw set in grim resolution.
‘I see,’ she said quietly. It hadn’t been her place to tell Dean any of this, he could see her realize that then. She swallowed, the force of it rippling in her throat and she clasped her hands together at her front.
‘I will talk to Mr Novak about the situation,’ she said after a pause. ‘He is to return home for the remainder of the term, where he will take his end of term exams with privacy. His parents have sent an Owl for him. It’s arranged.’
She hesitated. Her mouth opened. Then closed.
Then she said, ‘I know the two of you are close, Winchester.’ Dean felt his ears burn. ‘And this situation is quite… unimaginable. But if you ever need to talk, then you know where my office is.’ She sniffed, stepped back, and cleared her throat, her hands returning to her side as though she wasn’t quite sure what had gotten ahold of her.
Dean nodded. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. ‘Professor,’ he started quietly, ‘I want to do something to help.’ His voice had turned firm. ‘Cas is gonna leave, and I can’t sit here and - do nothing. Whilst all this is going down.’
He thought about Castiel’s family. About his mom, who worked at the Ministry. His father - shit - his father. Chuck Novak, Head Director of The Daily Prophet, was Castiel’s father. No wonder Nicodemus being missing had never reached the papers - but now? It would be everywhere. Even the Head Director, surely, wouldn’t be able to silence this. It would be a - a scandal. And Cas was caught right in the centre of it.
‘There’s gotta be something we can do,’ Dean added, feeling himself getting riled.
‘You’re Head Boy,’ McGonagall reiterated. As though Dean cared. ‘How you behave reflects onto the school. If you want to support Novak, then your best option is to remain calm.’
Dean shook his head minutely, feeling his stomach start to turn. He wanted to pace the Common Room. Wanted to find Raphael again and punch him even harder, just to do something. He wanted to go out there and find Nicodemus right now and shake him until he stopped hurting his family, and everybody else.
McGonagall surveyed Dean’s expression sadly. She smoothed out the front of her dressing gown. ‘I suggest when you read The Daily Prophet in the morning,’ she said softly, ‘that you do so with caution.’
Dean nodded. He felt that familiar wave of nausea wash over him again. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
‘I’ll leave you to sleep,’ McGonagall said with delay. ‘Goodnight, Winchester.’
Dean just looked away, twisting his mouth to keep from arguing any further. ‘Goodnight, Professor,’ he managed. And with that, McGonagall left. A gentle flurry of Tartan back through the portrait hole.
Dean stood in the Common Room for an indeterminable amount of time, the silence of the room ringing in his ears after the whirl of activity that had occurred. He couldn’t quite will his brain to catch up in processing all that had happened. Nicodemus was on the run. He was a Death Eater. Castiel’s worries about Voldemort wanting to recruit him suddenly seemed all the more valid, and Dean felt a pang of guilt deep in the pit of his stomach that he hadn’t seen any of this coming - that he hadn’t been able to stop any of it. That Castiel had kept all of this to himself for all of this time.
With a heavy numbness settling in his gut, Dean packed up his and Charlie’s revision notes from earlier. It was gone 3AM now. He had to be away in just under five hours for his Potions Exam. It didn’t feel real in the slightest.
It was with this dazed, heavy, numbness that Dean traipsed slowly up the stairs to the Boy’s Dormitory, thinking over everything that had occurred that night. He had so many regrets. If he hadn’t been so brash with Raphael and April, then Castiel wouldn’t have gotten into trouble for something he hadn’t even done. And he would be here, right now, in bed. Sleeping. And he wouldn’t be stood outside McGonagall’s office, on his own, about to find out the worst news any guy could ever receive. Why the hell had Castiel taken the blame? Dean wanted to shake some sense into him for doing something so damn crazy and self-sacrificing.
And how long had Cas been standing in the staircase for anyway? How much of the situation had he overheard?
Dean barely slept that night. His mind wouldn’t shut up. He couldn’t stop seeing Castiel’s eyes, the way he’d looked at Dean before stepping through the portrait hole. He wanted to talk to Cas. He wanted to make sure he was okay. Tell him he wasn’t alone. Ask him, why, why didn’t he talk to his friends about all of this?
The Dormitory around Dean felt too empty. It felt hollow. Two out of five beds were out of use, and Benny and Max’s soft, oblivious, snores did nothing to soothe the deepset emptiness that was filling the room and Dean’s chest.