Chapter Text
In all honesty, Dean didn't want to go to Hogwarts.
As cool as it was to find out his Grandpa Henry was a masterclass wizard and his Grandma Deanna was a renowned Quidditch player, Dean would rather stay in Lawrence in a normal American public high school than fly on a death trap to Europe just so he could wave around a glow stick.
But then there was Sam . That little bitch was the reason Dean was stuck here in the first place. Mom and Dad were way too supportive of Sam's love of wizard stuff, and it only got worse when it turned out the kid was a natural in Latin and became all but obsessed with air-broom-football. BUT they were also worried about their youngest son being alone on another continent, especially given how rebellious the boy already was.
So, obviously, the only logical solution was for Dean to go with him. And don't get him wrong, Dean tolerated (loved) the puppy dog his parents called a son, but there were days like this that he wished he could get what he wanted too.
Being the older brother SUCKED.
So here he was, duffle bag over his shoulder, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his (his dad's) leather jacket, saying goodbye to his parents while Sam tried to drag him towards the definitely evil castle ahead.
Dean wondered what he had to do to get on top of the food chain here.
A part of him hoped the girls were as easy to charm as the ones back home.
--------
Calling Castiel's people skills 'rusty' would be, according to his best friend, "an understatement— so under, it's buried beneath Poseidon’s ass crack."
To this day, Castiel still had no clue what Meg meant by that.
And that was why Meg always stuck close. She found Castiel's inability to properly socialize amusing. In fact, she had said as much to Castiel at the start of their friendship almost four years ago.
Meg often teased Castiel about the time he never realized they were dating, even after they had kissed multiple times.
"Friendship kisses?" Meg laughed so hard she practically rattled the walls that day. She passed out afterwards, and Castiel had to drag her away and find a teacher for help.
They subsequently 'broke up' after that, much to Castiel's embarrassment, but he believed the event only brought them closer as friends.
Ever since then, Meg had dubbed herself Castiel's personal social translator, something Castiel had endless appreciation for, as without Meg, he would've never ended up being friends with Balthazar, and soon after, Hannah.
Though he did still feel bad about completely doubting Meg's claims about Hannah liking him. It led to Castiel unknowingly rejecting Hannah when she had asked him on a date, and then crushing her hopes when she confessed.
Apparently, "You remind me of my sister Anna" was not the best response to someone confessing their feelings.
So when Meg one day told Castiel, "The new kid definitely likes you," he believed her.
But he still had his doubts.
The Winchester boy had only been around for a little over a week, and already his reputation preceded him. His talk during the sorting ceremony had led to a lot of laughs from his peers. And he seemed insistent on sitting with his little brother, even after being sorted to a different house.
He was tall, handsome, with a unique southern drawl that Castiel only ever found in movies, and he was often seen talking with pretty girls.
They had a few classes together, but Castiel never paid him much attention until Meg pointed him out at the mess hall.
"Don't look now, but Winchester is definitely eyeing you."
Castiel didn't look then and there.
He looked toward the Gryffindor table exactly 3 minutes later. He couldn't tell if Winchester was looking his way at all, but he was determined to find out if Meg was telling the truth.
It bothered him that he wasn't too sure.
-------
Okay, so Hogwarts wasn’t any worse than a normal American high school.
It was just as bad, but he could beat up the nerds who called themselves bullies, and the classes were kinda sick.
Who knew he was good at Latin? Maybe listening to Sam read about it out loud had rubbed off on him. Like some weird airborne nerd germs.
Overall, Dean felt a relatively confident about this. The girls were pretty and definitely charmable, the place's evil vibe was kinda growing on him, he got his own dorm, spells were pretty cool and convenient, and he had to admit the weird robe thing was comfortable as fuck.
Even all the way out here in the UK, at a school for magic , the students still kind of fell into all the usual cliques he was familiar with, so that was a big win for him. He was even starting to hope they may have a secret contact sport that doesn't involve flying brooms or flying balls.
It was only his second week, but Dean was fairly confident he could nail this.
At least, he was until Sam had to ruin it.
"What did you do?!"
Dean groaned, opening his eyes and looking up at his brother from his place on the grass. So much for getting some time in the sun . "You want a recap of my day? Cause it's gonna take at least an hour to tell you about the massive shit I took—"
"Ew, Dean! Shut up, I'm serious!" Sam kicked him on the side. It hurt a lot more than usual. The little shit was getting stronger. "Whatever you did to Castiel, you better apologize!"
"Caste-who?" Dean tried to trip Sam, grabbing at his ankle and letting him kick it back and forth. Only, he was actually struggling to kick Dean again.
Okay, so he was for real pissed.
"Novak!" Sam practically yelled in frustration, as if that answered Dean's question. "The Hufflepuff in your class with the messy hair and blue eyes?"
"She sounds pretty, but not my type."
" He's the Seeker for the Hufflepuff Quidditch Team."
"So definitely not my type"
"DEAN!" Sam finally managed to get his foot free and actually kicked Dean's arm HARD.
"Son of a bitch! Ow!" Dean grunted and rolled to the side, sitting up and rubbing his arm. "Jesus, Sam! The fuck is up with you?"
" What's up is the fact that the fastest Seeker currently at Hogwarts has been giving you the death eyes all week. And whatever you did to offend him, I need you to sort it out or else I'm never gonna be able to convince him to teach me!"
Dean blinked twice as he processed that information, before grumpily retorting with, "How do you know he didn't offend me first? Where's the loyalty?"
That earned him a kick to the knee that Dean managed to effectively dodge this time.
"Because! It's always you and your big fat mouth!"
Okay, so this was a temper tantrum. Dean had hoped Sam would grow out of it after 10, but apparently not.
Standing up, Dean half-heartedly dusted down his robe without bothering to fix the creases before defending himself. "Alright relax, twerp. Don't know what you're on, but I swear I've never even talked to this Nova guy. Hell, I barely got into a fight since I got here! Most of the nerds here flinch when I step to ‘em. But if I ended up flirting with this dude's chick, I'll give it to him straight," he said, so maturely like the mature mature-man he is.
After all, his mom taught him to take the high ground.
And it helped that Sam was still short.
His little brother didn't seem all that satisfied with the answer and let out a huff that reminded Dean of a pug. "Well, can you give it to him straight today? I wanna ask him to teach me this Friday so I can apply for tryouts by the end of the month."
"Yeah yeah, I'll go talk to your boyfriend, Samantha. I'll even tell him you're his personal stalker." Dean dodged Sam's predictable swing at him.
"Don't embarrass me! If you do, I'll tell mom you got someone pregnant."
Dean cringed at the idea of THAT conversation. Lord knew his mom would make his dad fly them all the way to Hogwarts just to pull his ear for something he didn't even do.
Damn Sam and his youngest-son privileges.
"Alright! I get it! Jeez... So fucking demanding." Dean held his arms up in surrender.
Sam eyed Dean a bit longer, then gave a satisfied nod. "Good. And while you're at it... Maybe tell him about me or something. Use your charm for something good." He then started walking backwards, doing the 'I'm watching you' gesture. "Don't mess this up for me."
Rolling his eyes so far he could see his own brain, Dean replied, "Don't need to when you'll do it yourself, bitch."
"Jerk!" With a middle finger in the air, Sam rushed back towards the halls, and from where Dean was standing, he could see his brother join a group of other kids.
Dean let out a frustrated sigh, then looked around the field at the dwindling groups of other students scattered about.
His first thought was to wonder whether he could sneak into the mess hall and grab a snack before class.
His second was how the fuck he was gonna find Cortny Novo or whatever-his-name-was.
That one was easier to answer than he thought when, up above the second-floor open arch, he found a pair of eyes glaring right at him.
And maybe it was bad to assume the dude was looking at him, but come on, Dean could practically feel the sniper scope lasers coming out of this guy's eyes.
A little hesitant but taking a risk, Dean lifted his hand up and waved at the staring stranger…
…only for him to glare harder before quickly turning away, all dramatic with his robe.
Alright.
So, clearly, Sam wasn't crazy.
Whatever Dean did to Carter Nick, he's kinda pissed about it too.