Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Supernatural or any of the characters
I don't make any money or other kind of profit out of it except for knowing that people read what I write
''For all she has given me, I can give her that in return.'' Azaela Grace Potter made a deal, in exchange for her soul. And from that moment on, everything changes. What will change if the Savior of the Wizarding World met Dean Winchester during his stay in Hell, and gets sent to help Team Free Will by God himself? The balance will tip, but in whose favor? Gabriel/OC
Chapter 1 - Meetings
Azaela Grace Potter had been surrounded by death from her infancy on. Born during a time of war to a young couple fighting against a Dark Lord, blessed and cursed with a prophecy when she was only a few months old, forced to hide with her parents in a small cottage away from danger, the little baby's life could not be called safe.
Her parents were ripped away from the young child when the Dark Lord stormed the little cottage in the small village called Godric's Hollow, due to the betrayal of one they had called a friend. At the young age of one and a half a Dark Lord had tried to murder little Azaela Potter with a curse designed to kill, yet her soul had prevailed, for it was a truly beautiful and pure soul, not tainted by any previous sins.
It was a soul that would endure and stay strong, one of those rare, impossibly rare souls that God himself favored, because they were his pride and joy, souls that would go on and shape the world.
As long as she could remember Azaela had always found comfort in the darkness. Her small room, the cupboard under the stairs, her intended prison had become a sanctuary of sorts for the nine-year old child. She felt protected whenever she would curl up under her ratty and thin blanket, the colour black soothing and muting all the noise around her.
She did not hate her relatives, the warmth inside her could tell that somehow they were afraid, and she had once heard the pastor say that fear makes people do things they normally wouldn't. She liked the church, even though it was always bright and full of people and noise there was something equally soothing all around her. Pastor Jefferson had said that God watched over everyone, since he had created us humans. For little Azaela Potter whose biggest dream and desire was to be loved and give someone her love in return, the presence of someone watching over her gave her hope.
After all she did not have a father, and Pastor Jefferson called him father, so if God was everyone's father then he was also her's. Such was little Azaela's logic.
It was a cold and lonely October evening when Azaela Potter went into the church alone for the first time. Her family had not even wished her a happy birthday, instead she had to do even more chores and her cousin pushed her around even harder, so as soon as she was finished she ran into the direction of the church, struggling to open the tall wooden door to gain entrance.
The little nine-year old gazed around the empty church in wonder, craning her neck to take everything in. She wasn't allowed to fall behind when she was here with her family, so she had never had the time to take everything in properly.
Stopping at the front row, she sat down on one of the wooden benches, feet dangling back and forth. Closing her eyes she concentrated on the warm feeling inside of her, trying to draw courage from the only tangible comfort she had ever known.
The Pastor said that you are watching over us... do you... do you think that someday someone will love me? I want to know what it feels like to love and be loved.
After a few moments, she opened her eyes, gazing at the crucified form of Jesus that was displayed at the front of the church, and absent mindedly wondered if he had been happy even though the Pastor said that he went through a lot of pain.
''What are you doing here so late, little one?''
Azaela jumped, startled at the unexpected sound, before she turned her head towards where the noise came from. A man was sitting casually next to her on the wooden bench, probably around her aunt's age although she always found it hard to tell, wearing a blinding white shirt, and black pants. Azaela was about to bolt when she noticed the warmth inside of her heat up even more, singing in happiness and remembrance. She could trust this person.
''Who are you, mister?'' Azaela asked instead, after all even she knew that she wasn't supposed to talk with strangers.
The man seemed to be smiling at her, though Azaela thought it looked a little sad. ''That's a good question, does it matter?''
''I suppose not.'' she reluctantly answered, she had always trusted in the warmth, so she wouldn't stop now.
''Now then, Azaela Grace Potter,'' he ruffled her hair gently, making her pause in surprise because no one had ever done that, ''what were you praying for?''
She blushed, concentrating her eyes on her feet not used to such a kind gaze directed at her. ''Nothing.''
''You're not supposed to lie.'' the man chided her softly, warm brown eyes still full of kindness and compassion.
''Do you- do you think that everyone deserves to be loved?'' she murmured, having drawn her knees up the bench to hide her vulnerability.
''Of course, especially someone like you.''
Her head whipped towards the direction where the strange man was sitting, and she sensed no sign of a lie. ''I...'' she twirled a strand of her raven hair nervously with one hand. ''I want to be loved.''
He hummed, and she saw him gaze up at the statue of Jesus. ''Would you, child, choose a content life, riddled with burdens but never too much, or would you choose a life that would include pain and darkness, but would eventually after many years result in happiness?''
Azalea frowned, trying to understand what this strange man was asking her. ''I want to know what love feels like, so if the happiness means love then I want that.''
Something flittered through the strange man's eyes, an emotion that she had seen other people direct at children. It made her feel warm, like the warmth inside her did. ''And that is why I said you deserve to be loved, child. However walking a path like that is not easy.''
Azaela nodded, trying to understand this strange man, and his difficult words and their meanings. She yawned when she suddenly noticed how tired she was. It was already close to nine in the evening and she had spent the whole day doing chores.
''Tired? Very well, sleep child.'' only moments after the man spoke, Azaela felt her eyelids dropping suddenly, guided by a strong arm, she leaned against the man's side, somehow feeling safer than she had ever done before.
''Happy Birthday, little one.''
She smiled contentedly, as her eyes finally slid shut and she fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Azaela Grace Potter would never forget that meeting, would imagine those kind brown eyes and certainty when he told her that she also deserved to be loved, and endured. But it was only many many years later that she would think back on another part of that meeting and of the figure of Jesus bleeding on the cross.
The path to happiness is paved with thorns, and spikes, and sometimes sacrifices must be made.
A/N So this is my first attempt at a HP/Supernatural crossover... Hope you like it! This first chapter is more of a prologue/chapter thing so the following one's will be longer. I'm aiming for 3000~ per chapter but I never really know...
Next chapter: The deal