I feel like I'm going to die from all of this positive feedback. You guys are awesome! I have never gotten such a good reception before!

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A lot of you guessed the right answer for Harry's house share. So let's see, shall we?

Chapter 2:

A motley group of rebels who called themselves Team Free Will trudged through a thick forest, cursing and muttering all the way through. One of the figures in a tan trench coat foraged ahead of the other two, who seemed to be having a tough time getting through the thick underbrush. The one leading, apparently oblivious to the plight of the others in his party, pushed past a particularly long branch, only to have it snap back into the face of the blond human behind him.

"AH! Son of a-" the man who just got whipped in the face pulled out a hunting knife and began viciously hacking at the offending foliage. "Man, I am so sick of these trees," he grouched. The other man, considerably taller, rolled his eyes and suffered in silence, plucking a stubborn burr off his jacket.

"I assure you Dean," the man in the front said without turning back, "the trees are equally sick of you." The man, Dean, huffed.

"Remind us again why you can't zap us to this place?" Dean whined.

"Because," the man was growing irritated. "the house does not exist. I cannot 'zap' as you put it, to places that I cannot pinpoint."

"Besides," the third, tall man put in, "we can't risk you getting constipated Dean."

"Shut up Sam!"

"Be quiet both of you!" the no nonsense leader said. The two others, Sam and Dean, both glared but remained quiet. "This is it." The trench coat man pushed past a couple of bushes into a clearing. It didn't seem like anything was there to the others.

"Uh, Cas... I don't see anything," Sam said awkwardly.

"This house is heavily warded. Human beings such as yourself would not be able to see it."

"Oh," was all the tall man could think to say. And what could he say? The two men beside him didn't really like him all that much at the moment: Castiel, pious angel of the Lord, saw him a stain in the world, and his very own brother, Dean, felt betrayed and angry. He started the apocalypse! He drank demon blood and betrayed his own family! He trusted a demon over his own brother! What was he supposed to do? Act like everything was okay?

"Let's go," Dean said abruptly, as if sensing his brother's inner turmoil. "Whatever freak that lives here probably gets jumpy at night." The blonde pushed ahead of the frozen group, making his way towards... well, whatever it was that he couldn't see.

"Freak?" Castiel said quizzically, following behind Dean. Sam sighed and put his feelings in a corner. A hunt wasn't a time to be thinking about his problems. He joined his brother and the angel as they crept into the clearing.

As they got near the center, a rough outline of something was visible, shimmering as if it was being held under water. Sam and Dean froze, unsure of what to do. Castiel, on the other hand, walked forward, before holding up a fist and knocking curtly on what Sam and Dean could only speculate to be a door. Nothing happened.

"Maybe no one's home," Dean joked nervously.

"No, Dean, someone is definitely here. There is smoke coming from the chimney." The angel knocked again forcefully, and suddenly, as if by magic, the door flew open and a head popped out, looking as though it were floating in mid air. Dean raised his gun in alarm, and the floating head rolled its eyes.

"Oh, look who's here. The Winchesters and an angel. Surprise surprise." Castiel took a step back, looking unfazed. "Put that thing down, you prat," the head snapped, and Dean dropped the gun as if it were burning.

"What the hell?" Dean screeched, clutching his hand.

"You brought us to a witch, Castiel?" Sam asked with a bit of panic in his voice.

"Hey! I'm clearly a man! I'm a wizard." the man snapped. "And you're not welcome here. Not you angel," the man spat, causing Castiel to flinch in surprise, "and most certainly not you worse for wear vessels." Dean looked affronted, and Sam blushed in embarrassment.

"We came to see you, Master of Death, because the apocalypse is nigh," Castiel said calmly. "and it is your duty as Death's Master to-"

The man's unnaturally green eyes flashed with anger, making the previously unassuming face look deadly. Castiel suddenly paled with an uncharacteristic show of fear and stepped off the house, which was fluctuating dangerously between visible and invisible. The Winchesters shared a panicked look as the air around them crackled with power.

"Don't assume you know anything about me angel. Fat lot of good duty's done for me besides get everyone I know killed. So you can take your duty and shove it up your arse or so help me-"

"Please, we need your help," Sam spoke up, drawing the attention of the angry man. He felt insignificant under the weight of such a weary gaze.

"Everyone needs help." the man said softly. "Find someone else." He began to shut the door of the now visible house, which looked like a run down cabin. Ivy covered every surface besides the chimney, door, and windows, giving the house a unearthly look. The door was practically shut when a voice drifted from within the house.

"Harry? Do we have guests? You gotta lighten up a little Mini Reaper, you're giving me a headache with all your intense brooding. What are you doing, PMSing?" The door flew open revealing an irritated, scrawny, raven haired man, and... someone else.

"Gabriel?" Castiel asked with shock heavy in his normally emotionless voice. The honey-eyed angel's recoiled as if slapped, and his jaw dropped.

"Whoops." he said in a squeak that was unbecoming of an archangel.

"Smooth move Gabe. Now we have to let them in," the wraith-like wizard muttered, scowling.

"What the HELL is going on?" Dean shouted. Sam stood beside him, scratching the back of his head idly with the pistol he had drawn sometime in the middle of the confrontation. He had the look of a man who had stopped trying to understand ages ago, and was just rolling with whatever crap was thrown at him. Dean, on the other hand, looked like he was constipated, and not because of their resident angel's transporting powers. His gun was still smoking at his feet, where he had dropped it.

The wizard sighed.

"You all want some tea? We've got Earl Grey," he said with a defeated tone as he made his way back into the cabin, disappearing from view.

"Don't worry," the archangel snapped, recovering quickly from the surprise of seeing his brother and the Winchesters, the humans he screwed over countless times, at his stoop. "I'll take care of the wards." He snapped his fingers carelessly and followed his house mate. "Kids these days..."

Aw man! I really hated this chapter! But I had to get Harry and the Winchesters together somehow! And people wanted an update... so here it is! In all its crappy glory! Next up: an update on our favorite Fallen Angel, who is having a temper tantrum at the moment. Also, I need help with future pairings. I am legitimately a blank slate, so practically anything goes! Slash or no! Go, go, go!