Good Morning Vietnam! (That is to say, I'm back baby! (Maybe)) I never said this was going to be a regular gig, so I don't want poison dripped into my seltzer, okay? I gots me priorities, damnit.

Thanks to the reviewers! xDarklightx, i dont give shit, Smoochynose, PrincessNhymoe, SophieQueenOfTheWorld, mollyisyourgirl, Firehedgehog, 917brat, Lizzosaur, Fandom Butterfly, garnetsoapbubbles, Noctisis Rrhagia, kirallie, SupaCrazee, ultima-owner, Mirthful-Malady, Guest, Eris1031, Guest, Dark Neko 4000, Takai01, Conpeki, TimeTravellingThestral, karone-sakura, little-bast, Madman, Lizzy Pheonix, androidtracker, Guest, Thorndsword, Esperanza934, Butterfly, Guest, Ciega Chica, blacklightningwolf, Shoujixyo-chan, Guest, forestreject, Moony, Aroe001, newboy, JJxWillxProtectxYou, frytrix, Talenyn01, Shebajay, Penelope Snape, dreamstar potter, Fan O' Fanfic, Harlequin Shadow, moondanceluna, sillya, Furionknight, CosmicEssence, Mrs. Kitsune, ImmortalWar, jumpimako, Gabrielle-Lucy-D'Angelo, and ChrisSkitt.

As for the pairing, I have tallied the votes. THIS IS REALLY IMPORTANT. It will be Harry/Gabriel. This will be a bromance, not smut. THIS WILL BE A BROMANCE, NOT SMUT. THIS WILL BE A BROMANCE, NOT SMUT! FOR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND H/C ONLYYYYYYY! Okay? Okay. There will be no mushy, obnoxious making out or sex or horrible plot ruining things. If you are hankering for this type of thing, this story is not for you. The most that will happen are HUGS. There shall be gratuitous hugs. THIS STORY IS PLOT ORIENTED.

Now, dear readers, onwards.

"Harry, you're in terrible danger."

"Great. Now we're getting bad news from a fireplace." Dean said, staring suspiciously at the face in the fire.

"Dean Winchester? And Sam Winchester?" the soft voice came from the green tinted flames. Sam and Dean paled drastically, white knuckling the guns they kept in their hands.

"Who are you, and how do you know who we are?" Dean barked Luna, causing her to giggle airily.

"Everyone knows who you two are, silly," she smiled vaguely. "You're the vessels! It's very nice to meet you." She beamed pleasantly at the two Winchesters, who weren't keen on replicating the sentiment.

"Are you a prophet?" Sam asked, curious. As far as he knew, Chuck was the only prophet on earth. Another one, especially one not monitored by the angels, was a game changer. Castiel's face was wrinkled in a trademark show of confusion.

"She is not. I have every name of every prophet etched into my brain. None of them, past, present, or future, have the name of Luna."

"Where does she get her information then? Harry said something about 'seeing'?" Sam questioned weakly, not ready to give up on his dwindling hope of a new ally.

"Nargles," Luna whispered conspiratorially. "They really are remarkable creatures. It's a travesty that the Ministry won't recognize them as a magical creature..."

"Is she high?" Dean grunted, turning towards Harry. Harry, in turn, ignored the rude Winchester.

"Luna, is it safe to come through?"

"For now, yes. The surveillance is scarce due to riots in Diagon Alley. There was a loyalist mark shot into the sky over the Ministry of Magic."

Harry sighed, rubbing his faded scar which had become popular symbol to loyalists, people who still supported him even though he was exiled.

"Hang on, I'm coming through." Harry stood up, and without even hesitating, walked right into the flames.

Dean shifted uncomfortably as the flames sparked red, roared, and then died. The cabin was filled with tense silence as the two angels and two humans sat together, stiffly drinking their respective drinks and not saying a word. Sam and Dean flinched at the occasional inanimate object that moved by itself, and Castiel observed the residence of the Master of Death with a critical eye. Gabriel seemed content in making obscene amounts of whipped cream appear on his hot chocolate. Finally, Castiel broke the silence with all the finesse of a drunk polar bear.

"Brother," he said in a deep voice, "this 'Luna'... does she get her visions from impure sources?" His face conveyed an endearing earnestness, a desire to protect his makeshift family. If there was a Whore of Babylon on the loose, it was his duty to destroy it.

"Oh Cas, you naive ball of feathers," Gabriel said with amusement, licking a bit of topping off his lip, "I just want to ruffle your sex hair right now."

"My... sex hair?" Castiel pronounced slowly, the words foreign in his mouth. Sam hid a laugh behind his hand, and even Dean had a twinkle in his eye, not that he'd ever admit it.

"It's like you style it, I swear," Gabriel muttered to himself. Castiel responded with a classic head tilt coupled with a bewildered look. "Nevermind bro. Luna isn't a prophet, not in the traditional sense. She's a wizard. They call their prophets 'seers'. They get their visions from magic."

"Not from Heaven?"

"Not from Heaven," Gabriel confirmed with a nod.

"Then what was up with the Nargles crap?" Dean asked, not overly kind.

"From what Mister Master told me, Lovegood sees her world differently than us. The way she lives can seem... weird, because the way she perceives life is weird."

"So basically, she's nuts." Dean said matter of factly, causing Sam to blush in embarrassment over his brother's lack of tact.

Gabriel didn't deny it, but his eyes were as hard as flint. "Don't let Harry hear you say that," he said ominously. He disappeared with a flutter of feathers.

"He's changed," Sam said thoughtfully, staring at the space the Trickster had just occupied.

"No he hasn't," Castiel said sadly. "He hasn't changed one bit."

He had always been protective over those he cared about, and it seemed as though Harry had fallen straight into that category.


Harry stepped out of the flames a few minutes later, ignoring the wide eyed hunters.

"Where's Gabriel?" he snapped, sharp eyes noting his friend's absence immediately.

"He left," Castiel supplied unhelpfully. Harry sighed and muttered something about 'feather brained idiots' under his breath.

"Well, Lucifer's coming. He knows where we are. Gabe can meet us on the road."

"Lucifer," Sam said nervously. "How could he know we're here?"

Harry looked up sharply at the pale man, noting the bags under his eyes. It was easy to forget that these two bumbling gigantors were vessels to the most powerful angels in Heaven. That means that Lucifer was hard pressed to get the young man to say 'yes'. An unhappy Satan made for a painful existence for Sam. Harry made a mental note to help him later.

"If two idiots like you could find me, it's not too much a stretch of the imagination that an all powerful being did," he snarked. He snapped his fingers and a carpet bag appeared in his hands. Everyone flinched at its sudden arrival. Items started zooming around the house into the bag, which never seemed to get any fuller.

"Dude, we have got to get one of those," Sam gaped. He turned to the young wizard. "Where did you get it?"

Harry's mouth went dry and he stopped his restless bustling around the house. His back was tense and he seemed to curl in on himself. The objects previously flying about the room hovered nervously, and the human occupants waited with baited breath.

"It- it was my friend's," he said in a voice that clearly stated that no more would be said on the subject. Sam recognized the finality for what it was and tactfully backed off. Dean, meanwhile, was trying to avoid the flying toiletries that just came down from the bathroom.

"Come on!" he growled as a toothbrush hit him in the face. "They aren't hitting anyone else! What the hell man?" Harry seemed to snap out of his funk as quickly as he fell into it. He grinned at the elder Winchester, who was muttering a string of curses.

"I know what you said about Luna," he smirked as a cauldron bowled into Dean's stomach.

"Son of a ooomph," Dean was interrupted by a sleeping bag. "Not cool," he whined. Harry shrugged.

"Karma's a bitch." Sam tried unsuccessfully to stifle laughter and a tube of toothpaste hit his head.

"Ow," he whined as well. Harry shrugged again and left the room. He had seen Castiel leave at some point, and went to follow the wayward angel. No need to have that stick in the mud poking his wings where they didn't belong.

He found the rebel angel his room, sitting on his now bare bed. The sleeping bag and pillows had been removed, leaving a barely adequate lump that didn't really do much to cushion the hard floor. It didn't matter that much, being the Master of Death afforded him the ability to forgo sleep.

"Who is this," Castiel said quietly, nodding at the empty portrait on the wall. Castiel had heard stories of the savior of the wizarding world, and knew some things about the culture, but was woefully under informed about many of the details. It didn't seem like his place to pry back in Heaven. It was in the archangels' hands then. The only things he really knew of the enigmatic man before him was that he defeated a man that challenged the Heavens by shredding his own soul to become immortal. Harry Potter. Victorious, but bitter. He had lost a lot, but just what, Castiel wasn't sure.

"That's... a friend. She isn't here right now. She's visiting Ron's flat." Harry said, voice carefully devoid of any emotion. He wasn't a stranger to death, it was a very large part of who he was, but sometimes it still hit him very hard. No matter how powerful he was, no matter that he essentially lorded over any creature bound to death, he still couldn't bring his friend back. It wasn't his place. It was only God's. The thought was bitter in his mouth, worming its way to the surface. He turned to Castiel. "I will help you derail the Apocalypse. But only as a screw you to the man upstairs," Harry said without any inflection.

He wanted to believe what he had said, that he was detached. But it was a lie. Despite the fact that he lived in a gray area between life and death, he found that recently, he had a lot to live for.


Castiel shivered as the raw magic of Harry's verbal commitment shuddered through his sensitive wings. Harry seemed like an unassuming young man, but his power lay coiled and ready under his skin. Having the Master on their side could change the tide of the war, and keep him out of Lucifer's hands.

A flutter sounded next to Harry, and Gabriel stood with a smug smile on his face.

"So! You finally decided to join the team, huh whiz kid?" Harry frowned at his friend and Gabriel ruffled his hair, resulting in an undignified squawk.

"You knew it would come to this, didn't you," Harry pouted, looking the part of a petulant teenager.

"Yup!" Gabriel said, popping the 'p'. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have one more team member to scoop up before we skedaddle." He grinned boyishly, winking at Castiel and Harry before disappearing.

"I need a headache potion," Harry muttered, disappearing with a loud crack. Castiel was left alone with the empty portrait. Harry reappeared out of thin air, downing a vial of potion. When he let the glass down from his mouth, he scowled at Castiel. "What are you waiting for, Lucifer to turn you into spaghetti? Grab the portrait!"

They all converged into the living room, standing around the carpet bag and two empty portraits.

"Is it really necessary to bring these," Dean complained, resisting the urge to kick the empty frames. "They're big and clunky... and damn creepy." Sam couldn't help but agree.

"We're going to need all the help we can get, even from paintings," Harry said sharply. He waved his hand and they shrank to a more manageable size. "Snape is not going to be happy about this," Harry muttered, shoving the frames into the infinite bag.

Gabriel's arrival was announced by a flutter of wings and a string of curses. He listed to the side slightly, struggling with a squirming man which he had by the scruff of his neck.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce Team Free Chill," he bellowed loudly. Harry groaned and rubbed at his headache, shooting the Trickster a cold glare that could make a Wendigo run in fear. Gabriel was unaffected.

"Team Free Chill?" Sam said indignantly. "What happened to Team Free Will?"

"Well, I'm on your team now, so we're upgrading to 'chill'," Gabriel said with a smirk. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but the boisterous archangel beat him to it. "A stick in the mud angel," Castiel's mouth pursed slightly in agitation, "a moose," Sam's face turned red, "an overprotective dick who's fun to kill," Dean looked as though he was about to strangle him, "Mister Master," Harry snorted, but looked more amused than angry, "yours truly, and a slimey snarky, soul sucker!" he proclaimed proudly, holding up the cursing man for all to see.

"Is that... Crowley?"

Well, we have Team Free Chill who should really get a move on. They have to run from Lucifer! Too bad Gabriel's so distracting.

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