This fanfic is a collaboration between Starkidlover100 and Marion Hood. We don't, unfortunately, own anything. If we did you'd be the first to know.
"Oh come on." Gabriel glared darkly at the bright flames keeping him trapped. "Not again." He glared critically at the woman. "Well at least you're cuter than those last bozos who trapped me."
She smiled at him nervously, one hand clenching and unclenching.
"Er...hello?" The English accent peaked his interest and he moved as close as the flame would allow. "I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger."
"Gabriel. Archangel." He snapped.
She blanched and dropped the stick she was holding.
"What?" she gasped.
"Did I stutter?" He snipped, glancing around the room. It had been a while since he'd seen a dedicated summoning chamber. This was...strange. Archaic even.
"No, no, no, no. This is all wrong." Hermione paced the circle and ran her hands through her long curly hair, charging it with static. "I was trying to get the spirit of retribution." She paused and stared at him in amazement. "Archangel?"
He gave her a mocking salute.
"But Angels don't exist." She said with the certainty of a born skeptic.
That set off his already volatile temper enough to spark his grace, his six wings silhouetting on the wall behind him. Hermione jumped back in fright, stumbling over that small piece of vine wood. He left the largest of his golden wings in the visible spectrum and glared at her.
"Okay...Angels." She breathed out slowly, evidently trying to calm herself. Gratifying to know someone found him intimidating. For the first time since she'd summoned him, she seemed to really look at him, a small frown appearing between two deep brown eyes. She held out her hand and the stick jumped back into it. Hermione twirled it between her fingers, distractedly tapping her foot. "Can I make this a bit more comfortable for you?" She flicked that stick and a large armchair appeared behind him.
"How did you do that?" He demanded, nudging the chair with his foot. Definitely corporeal.
"I'm a witch." She said, as though admitting that to an Archangel wasn't a bad idea.
Gabriel looked at her aura, which aside from a lot of emotional scarring, some battle trauma and a healthy dose of guilt, was perfectly clear.
"No you're not."
"Yes I am."
"Not. You ain't got my brothers mark, and believe me sweet cheeks, I'd recognise it."
He got a glare for the nickname but she was quickly distracted, eyes straying back to his wings.
"Mark?" She frowned again. "Brother?...ah...You mean Lucifer. Well I suppose if you're real then he must be and by extension demons, hell and heaven which presents an interesting theological discussion..."
She drifted off into distracted muttering, tucking her stick behind her ear. He watched as she paced around the circle, almost seeming to forget him. That got on his nerves. He was an attention whore, sue him. He's Gabriel!
"How come you knew about the Holy fire?"
She glanced up at him.
"Only thing that can hold someone like me." He gave into temptation and sprawled in the sinfully squishy armchair. "You know...hot, burny...holy?"
"The summoning circle automatically adapts to whatever circumstances were necessary." She flicked her stick and the flames died, leaving a simple chalk outline. "I'm sorry about this mix-up and for wasting your time. I need to look over the ritual."
Gabriel stayed in his chair.
"Show me." He commanded.
His tone earned him a raised eyebrow, but she produced a sheet of parchment-which earned an eye roll from Gabriel-and handed it to him.
"Did you write this with a quill, gorgeous?" Her cheeks pinkened slightly but she didn't reply. "Gryffin feather, virgin blood...Why were you trying to summon Loki?" He snapped a lollipop into existence and unwrapped it. "Seriously...you don't really look the type."
She sighed, looking slightly ashamed.
"I wanted revenge and he seemed like the best bet at the time..." She shrugged. "Obviously it seems a bit silly now."
He smirked around the lollipop stick.
"Revenge? Oooh. Tell Gabriel all." He singsonged.
"You don't want to know." She said, heading for the door.
"Believe me, just deserts are right up my street." He glared at her until she slumped in defeat. "Spill."
"It was the end of the war and people were getting together settling down." She shrugged, talking as quickly as possible. "Everyone seemed to expect Ron and I to end up together. We'd been best friends for years...everyone always said they could see this spark between us. So we started dating almost two years after the war. It wasn't anything serious, just casual dates. We'd both entered the DMLE and I wanted to focus on my career. Ron knows I've always been driven by my work and I assumed he understood that." She smiled bitterly. "It was nice at first. We'd go out at the weekends...but then about six months into our relationship he started to pressure me to sleep with him." She snorted. "He wasn't subtle either. I refused and I assumed that was the end of it. I guess he thought it was a muggle thing." Hermione frowned.
"That was...almost six years ago now?" She shrugged. "A few years after that, he and his mother started dropping subtle hints about getting us married. Again I refused. Only a fool gets married in her twenties. I had better things to be doing than playing house. Getting married meant giving up my job and I...just wasn't ready to do that. We broke up over that, stayed apart for almost a whole year before we got back together. A couple of months after that Ron stopped hinting and started telling. We got into an argument. I said some horrible things, he said some...worse things." She swallowed. "I stormed out. Went back to my flat. Of course as soon as I calmed down, I realised that this was my fault. I went back to his to apologise and I found him with Lavender Brown in his bed." She chocked on a sob. "I mean of all the...I yelled at him and..." She coughed, blushing slightly. "I broke his nose. I went back to my flat and went in to work the next morning. And there's Ronald, standing in the middle of the Atrium. I thought he wanted to apologise, except he began yelling accusations. Claimed I'd cheated on him...that it'd broken his heart when I refused his proposal. And then..." She took a deep breath to steady herself, but Gabriel could see white knuckled grip she had on her stick. This wasn't pain. This was fury. "In retaliation he got the one woman who hates me more than anything in the world, to write an article. She called me a harlot and a glory hound. The story spread like wildfire and no one would believe me. Ronald made his family cut all ties with me, Harry broke up with his girlfriend over it...and now my names being dragged through the mud, I'm getting hate mail, I even got a disciplinary wage cut for behavior not befitting a ministry employee and a demotion." She slumped miserably against the wall, looking utterly dejected. "All because of Ronald bloody Weasley."
Gabriel stared at her.
"Wow. That's...seriously...douchy. I mean that's coming from me. No wonder you wanted revenge."
He got to his feet and held out a hand to her.
"Is there anyone who can help you with this?" He asked, pulling her to her feet. It was nice to find a woman who was smaller than him.
Hermione made an expansive sweeping gesture, leaving a trail of sparks behind her fingers.
"Harry took my side, but apart from the twins...no. Not really."
"Twins, huh. Kinky." Gabriel snapped his fingers and passed her the cardboard box that he'd snapped into existence. "You look like you need this. Let it never be said I'm not a nice guy."
She smiled at him.
"Thank you. For listening." She hugged the box to her chest and stepped away from him. "I'll leave you be now."
She turned and began to ascend the wooden steps which led out of the pit. Gabriel watched her go, his head cocked to one side.
"One tiny thing..." he called, unable to stop himself. "That virgin blood...?"
Her pink cheeks told him all he needed to know.
WAR HERO DISCRACED!
Ex-Auror Ronald Weasley was forcibly removed from the ministry this morning for disturbing behaviour on Ministry premises. According to witnesses Mr Weasley tore through the Atrium shedding his clothes before attempting to self-fornicate in the Fountain of Magical Brethren. Evidently the recent betrayal by harlot Hermione Granger was too much for him to bare.
Mr Weasley was reported have been heard to say;
"The angel made me do it!"
We have been informed that this discretion cost Mr Weasley his job and he was referred by Head Auror Potter for psychiatric assessment at St Mungo's.
Hermione tipped her head back and laughed. And then kept laughing as two months worth of guilt, shame, anger and misery melted away. She cuddled Loki to her chest, giggling as the Golden Retriever pup licked at her chin. He was the best companion a witch could ask for. There was only one person who could have done this though. Even Fred and George would have baulked at losing Ron his job.
"Thank you, Gabriel." She whispered.
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For the first time,
Hood and Nix Out.