Written for the 2011 LJ Wishlist

Disclaimer: I own neither SPN or HP, I'm just writing this for fun.

New Paths

Gabriel knew the time was coming when he'd have to give up his role as the Trickster. It had been fun while it lasted, but war was on the horizon and no matter how much he tried to fool himself into thinking he could stay out of it, deep down he knew better. He had his doubts to humanity's chances of coming out on the other side of all this, but he decided that the role as the Trickster was too important to leave in the air like that. He needed to make arrangements…

Even if the humans managed to stick around after the big heaven and hell mixer, it was really unlikely that Gabriel would be there to see it. It would be an "All Hands on Deck" situation and even his remaining neutral wouldn't matter, he knew most wouldn't accept that position - he'd still be considered an enemy. Despite their heavenly origins, Angels were very much of the "If you're not with me, you're against me" mindset - leaving Gabriel's days numbered.

It didn't take him long to find his choice. Fred Weasley wasn't an Angel, but he was at least a wizard - he'd be more used to the power that Gabriel would give him than most, they adjustment would be small. Plus, he was already partially trained! Some of the things Gabriel witnessed him doing had impressed even his twisted sense of humor.

The problem was the brother… George Weasley was also a prankster of grand talent, but there was something a little more serious about him. His conscience spoke louder, he had a tendency to pull back at the last moment, second thoughts forming too late. This was not a quality for a Trickster to have. You had to be all in all the time, full steam ahead, no looking back. So, Fred was a yes, George was a no - but the two were inseparable. No way would he get Fred to agree to take over the role of Trickster and leave his brother behind.

Taking some time to sit back and really think about the problem, Gabriel watched as the boys grew. Their wizarding war made them more serious (but not by much, he was glad to see), but their talents and ingenious thought processes grew with them - all while the clock ticked down toward Lucifer's day of freedom. There was never any question of picking someone else - Fred was the one it would have to be. It was just a matter of convincing him of that…

Then Fred Weasley died.

The wizarding war had held no real interest for him besides Fred, so Gabriel had grown bored and wandered off to tease the Winchesters for a bit while he pondered the dilemma of the Weasley brothers. When he made it back, it was to see the body of Fred being clutched by his sobbing mother while his twin stood staring down at him with wide, shocked eyes. He cursed as he stared at the body with a similar look - cursed himself for leaving, cursed the Winchesters for being such easy targets, cursed the whole damn wizarding community for this idiotic war that had just taken away his soon to be protégé. Only when he was done cursing did he noticed the glowing soul of Fred Weasley, still shaped like its previous vessel, staring at him.

Gabriel stared back at him for a moment before he realized what this meant. "You haven't left yet! This is perfect…"

The almost transparent image of Fred looked down at his grieving family, a look of indecision on his features, and Gabriel understood. He was contemplating becoming a ghost.

"You don't want to do that," he said, shaking his head. "Becoming a ghost is a terrible choice. Can you imagine sticking around for eternity, watching all the people you love die one by one? Never being able to physically help? No hugging, no sex, no eating? Guess if you thought you were headed for the Pit it would be a better option, but other than that? Horrible, horrible choice."

Fred's face fell and Gabriel smirked as he went up and threw an arm around the shoulders made of light.

"Lucky for you, I can give you a rare third option. One that allows you a physical body and lots of power."

"How…" the soul mouthed, having no voice of its own.

Gabriel let his wings unfurl and watched with satisfaction as Fred's eyes grew round.

"Because I'm a badass Angel of the Lord, and I can do whatever the fuck I want."

"So, basically my job title is to hand out karma in the form of the most wicked pranks ever known?" Fred asked after Gabriel had built him a new body.

"Yep, pretty much," he answered with a shrug as he sat in one of the overstuffed armchairs in one of his many, many residences. He snapped his finger and two naked women popped into existence and handed him a drink, then fawned over him a bit before he snapped his fingers and they disappeared again. "There are some other perks, too."

Fred flashed a weak grin before it melted away again. "But I can't contact my family…"

"I picked you to take over this job - not play guardian angel to the Weasley brood. If you're a good little Trickster, maybe we'll get you over there to check in on them, see what they're up to. But not anytime soon," Gabriel said, holding up a hand to forestall the argument he could see coming when Fred opened his mouth. "If you go now, all you'll see is them grieving and feeling bad and you'll want to stay there, even though it would be completely pointless. Let them get their feet back under them and then we'll see. But it would have to be discretely - absolutely no interference with their lives. Fate's a tricky bitch and I'm probably already stepping on her toes by choosing you for this. If you go prancing around and changing the lay of the land over in Weasley town, she'll pitch a major fit."

"You talk like Fate's a real person," Fred said distractedly, his tone sullen.

"Well, not exactly a 'person', but an entity, yes. And she can get really nasty when you mess with her work."

"This is going to take some getting used to," Fred mumbled, falling backwards in his chair to stare at the ceiling.

"Don't worry, we have some time for training," Gabriel said with a grin.

Actually, they didn't really have much time at all. The cogs of the wheels were clicking into place, the end was nigh as they liked to say. But damn it, he intended to have some fun first…

"This is Dean Winchester," Gabriel said, looking down at the man sleeping face down on the bed. He gestured to the brunette sleeping next to him and continued. "He has a penchant for strolling into a town, picking up a beautiful woman, then never talking to her again. Women are just a distraction to him - a way to pass the time. So, Fred, what should we do about this?"

"Uh… How about we turn him into a woman?"

Gabriel nodded slowly, "A woman…"

But inside he was shaking his head, he was hoping Fred would jump right in with something spectacular, inspiring. But turning Dean into a woman… He mentally sighed, he could already see where that would lead.

"Is that wrong? Should we-"

"No, no, there is no right or wrong in Trickstering. You just do what you feel like and see how that turns out," Gabriel said. Isn't that how humans learned? Through trial and error?

Fred gave Gabriel a look that said he knew he'd taken a misstep, but not how exactly, and gave an unsure nod. He focused his attention back on Dean, a look of concentration forming. A second later, Dean's sprawled out form turned slight and curvy, his short hair growing out to his shoulders.

"Hmm, makes a pretty hot chick actually," Gabriel noted with a head tilt.

With the snap of his fingers, a car outside backfired, jerking the two on the bed awake - Dean, to the more extreme… He was up and in a defensive stance immediately, stumbling a little as he overcompensated for his usual bulky frame.

The woman on the bed glanced at "him", then did a double take.

"Oh my god, I slept with a chick?"

"Who the hell are you callin'-!"

Dean's voice came out high and girlish, making him slap a hand over his mouth in shock. His eyes slowly drifted from his bed partner to his body, green eyes widening comically as they came to rest on his new set of breasts.

Finally, his trembling hands came up to touch them, prompting a goofy smile. "Sweet…"

The woman fled, mumbling about "swore that was a hot guy" and "never drinking again". For the next hour, they watched as Dean did nothing but fondle himself. Finally Fred had had enough.

"This isn't even hot. It's actually pretty disturbing."

"Yep," Gabriel answered, popping the p as he watched Dr. Sexy on the TV Dean hadn't even noticed clicking on.

"And it isn't working. He's not learning a lesson here."

"Nope," Gabriel answered, again with the popped p.

"You knew it wouldn't."

"Yep."

"So what now?"

"Now you've learned that thinking small scale doesn't work with Trickstering," Gabriel said, turning Dean back to a guy with a snap of his fingers, eliciting a disappointed groan from him.

Fred nodded with a thoughtful expression. "Okay, then what should I do?"

"Nothing here," Gabriel said with a glance at Dean. "Now that he's back to normal, he'll be looking for the cause of his moment of femininity. Those Winchesters can be like a dog with a bone when they want to, and we don't really have time for that right now. I need to get you causing full out Trickster mania before we come back to them."

With a slight movement of air, they were gone, leaving Dean poking his man parts like they'd disappear any minute.

Gabriel wasn't sure how much time exactly passed as he showed Fred the ropes. He knew it was too much time though. The going was much slower than he'd thought it would be, it seemed Fred's flare for mischief hadn't followed him into the afterlife.

After another mediocre display, Gabriel had had enough. "I'm beginning to think I made a mistake in choosing you. Maybe you would've been better off as a permanent see-through houseguest, at least that wouldn't take any actual talent."

"Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you should've left me there…"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Is that what this is? You're still moping about your family? They're fine! They survived the war, they're living their lives, they-"

"How do I know you're not just telling me that?" Fred snapped. "I haven't seen them since I joined you. For all I know they're not fine at all. And George…"

He fell silent for a moment and Gabriel watched with interest as he turned away from him and stilled.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to lose a brother?" Fred asked quietly, causing Gabriel's face to blank and his body to tense. "I love my whole family, but George was a part of me. Like… a limb I guess. Always there, connected, moving in tandem without a thought. I can cope, I mean, it sucks, but I can go on doing this Trickster thing as long as I know he's okay. But… he doesn't have that. He doesn't know I'm okay. So it makes me think, as much as you say otherwise, that he's not okay."

Gabriel was silent a long time, wrestling with that feeling of loss that the thought of his own brothers brought about.

"You'd like to see him, that's what you're getting at? You want to let him know you're okay?" Gabriel asked quietly.

Fred's shoulders slumped and he sighed. "More than anything."

"The loss of you will shape who he is from here on out," Gabriel said in exasperation. "Seeing you, knowing you're still out there somewhere, that'll change him - he won't become who he's supposed to be."

"Can't I see him without him seeing me then? And, I don't know, just find a way to let him know, not that I'm still here, but just that I'm okay?"

Gabriel gave another sigh and eye-roll. It couldn't really make it worse could it? He was already a crappy Trickster, seeing his brother could only improve things.

"I suppose we could find a way to do that," he said. "But if that bitch, Fate, gets her panties in a bunch over this, I'm pointing the finger at you, kid."

The way Fred's face lit up when he whipped around to look at Gabriel proved he'd done the right thing. He hadn't seen that kind of life on the Weasley's face since… well, since he died. Maybe this was what he really needed all along. Silly humans…

"You said he was fine," he practically growled, accusing eyes boring into his angelic escort.

While Gabriel was glad to see some zest in his protégé, he didn't particularly like that look being aimed at him.

"He is fine," he said waving at George, who walked ahead of them obliviously. "He's in one piece, healthy, eating, sleeping, going to work. He's fine."

For the past hour, they'd followed George through his daily routine. They'd watched him get up, get ready for the day, eat breakfast and go to work. Gabriel wasn't seeing a problem.

"He hasn't smiled once," Fred said, despair coating his words. "He's barely even spoken to anyone."

"So what? Lots of humans go through life like that."

"Not George."

"Did you honestly expect him to be the same person he was before? I told you, the loss of you would change who he was. It's his fate."

"Screw bloody fate," Fred said, as he trailed behind his brother.

"She is pretty hot," Gabriel said with a head tilt.

"I have to fix this," Fred murmured. "I have to-"

Gabriel snagged the back of his shirt and yanked him to a stop, then pushed him roughly against the wall.

"Have you forgotten our agreement so quickly?" He asked, power ringing through his words and making Fred's eyes widen in fear. "I have been lenient thus far, but you will not interfere with your brother's path."

Fred sagged, eyes drifting over Gabriel's shoulder to undoubtedly follow his brother's progress.

"He's so unhappy… It's all my fault. If I had been more careful, if I'd-"

"Shut up," Gabriel mumbled, stepping away. "You humans, I swear…"

He turned his back on Fred for a moment, coming to a decision. The kid wasn't going to let it go. He'd never have a new Trickster unless he fixed this…

"Okay, I'm not supposed to be telling you this, but this newfound seriousness of your brother's will save a lot of lives," he said, glancing at Fred's surprised face. "Augustus Rookwood, the person responsible for your death, escaped custody in the chaos after the fall of Voldemort. George has become an Auror in his obsession to track Rookwood down. It's him that'll stop another rise of magical purists in ten years. Without your death, he wouldn't have his dedication to finding Rookwood and those like him, he wouldn't be here to stop more tragedy in the future."

Fred looked after his brother's disappearing figure in shock before anger washed over his features.

"And who decided that his happiness was worth the price of those other lives?" He burst out, surprising Gabriel into silence. "Fate? Well, then you're right, she is a complete and utter bitch. And who says he has to be obsessed? That he can't just be doing what he thinks is right? Do you know for a fact that he'd change his path if he knew I was okay?"

"I-"

"Do you think he'd be any less interested in saving lives if he knew about me? George has always been the better of us, and I know him better than anyone - he doesn't have to be miserable to do great things."

Gabriel let out a sigh. He really was becoming a softy. Fate was going to kick his ass…

George made it to his desk in the Auror department with nothing more than a few nods to the greetings thrown out by his co-workers. As always, the first thing his eyes found was the picture of Augustus Rookwood. His fingers twitched, wanting to go for his wand and blast that smug face right off the wall, but he pushed it down to tangle with the rest of the fury and contempt he held for the man that had killed his brother.

Next he took in his disaster area of a desk with a weary sigh. With the way he ran out every time there was even a hint of a Death Eater sighting, the reports were slow in getting done. But this morning there was something new on top of the pile. The roll of parchment would look like any of the others beneath it to anyone else, but George knew that roll of paper like the back of his hand. Had held it clutched between him and his brother as they laughed and watched the little dot labeled Filch run around in mad circles searching for them. There was the little stain of blood on the right corner where he'd gotten too close to the Whomping Willow that one time in fourth year. And that tear where Fred had misjudged which tapestry to run behind and had run face first into the wall, crumpling the map between him and hard stone while George and the portraits laughed.

But how had the Marauder's Map gotten here? He had no idea where it had ended up, he hadn't thought about the thing in ages. He walked over to his desk slowly and picked it up with a slightly trembling hand. The memories attached to that once piece of parchment… His eyes burned and he fought the urge to crumple it and hide it away, just as he had all the other fond memories that did nothing but rip him apart anymore.

But he didn't. He found himself unrolling it slowly instead - knowing that he was just going to cause himself more pain, remember more things that he wished he didn't, be reminded of what he'd lost.

The page was blank as always and he just stared at it a moment, hearing Fred's voice edged in excitement saying those special words.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

The words came out as barely more than a croak, and he waited for the mocking, teasing lines of Padfoot or Prongs to appear across the page. And just as he expected, the inky words appeared on the page - what he wasn't expecting was the familiar handwriting belonging to none of the Marauders, but instead to one long, lost brother.

The lines disappeared almost as soon as they appeared, so George pulled himself together and read quickly.

Hey Forge, long time no see. I don't have much time and shouldn't really be doing this at all, so forgive me if I'm a little blunt.

You're an idiot.

An idiot of mammoth proportions, dear brother.

An idiot worthy of a place in history.

An idot-

"Get on with it," George whispered with a choked laugh.

Sorry, sorry, what was I saying? Oh, yes.

IDIOT.

We weren't "Gred" and "Forge" because we were two parts of a whole. We were "Gred" and "Forge" because part of you was always with me and vice versa. Even though I'm not actually there anymore, part of me is always in you. You have to live for the both of us, brother. And as much as I like the idea of you hunting down the rest of that Death Eater scum, it's not the only thing in the world worth doing.

Laugh a little.

Please.

Catch them with spells that make them naked and hairless in the process. Make it so every time they speak, they also fart. Tie them with bindings that cause endless hours of tickling.

Do what you have to do, George, but don't lose who you are in the process. I'll be watching, so give me something to enjoy.

I love you.

Fred and Gabriel watched as George bowed his head over the now blank piece of paper, a beautiful smile washing over his face, making him seem years younger. With a glance, Gabriel saw that Fred was wearing a matching expression - one of relief and melancholy release. As he looked at him, Gabriel wondered how he'd missed this weight on his protégé, it was truly amazing how much lighter he looked.

A picture tacked to the wall behind Fred caught Gabriel's eye and he cocked his head in thought. Warm and fuzzy was good and all, but it was time to get back to business. This would be the perfect time to take things to the next level with Fred's training.

"Well, while we're here traipsing around in what was your life, how about we pay a visit to Augustus Rookwood."

"I thought that was George's job? His fate and all that?" Fred asked in surprise.

"It is. Just because we pay a visit to him now, that doesn't mean George will ever stop looking for him."

Because no one will ever find the bastard's body, he mentally added, zapping them away.

A light drizzle had started, leaving the streets of London hazy and mostly empty. They stood on the sidewalk, studying the figure lurking in the shadows across the street - Gabriel with a detached curiosity and Fred with a silent fury, hands bunched and eyes unblinking. Good.

Rookwood was looking a little worn around the edges, but the glittering light of evil in his eyes was still bright as he scanned the streets. It was ballsy of him to choose to stay in the city, but Gabriel knew that he rarely went out. Just to bring some entertainment home…

"Here's a man who thinks being a wizard makes him better than everyone else - better, meaning more powerful in his eyes," Gabriel said, startling Fred with his sudden commentary. "He's disgusted by the weak - which really just goes to show you the truth in the old saying about the characteristics you hate the most in others being the things you really hate about yourself. He groveled in front of that Voldemort thing for years - broken down to nothing more than a cowering puppet. So, in his spare time - which is all he really has these days - he finds ways to make himself feel superior."

"What's he do?" Fred asked, his face pale as he stared at the man leaning against the wall by the alley.

"This. He hunts. He goes out and finds himself a pretty 'muggle' woman, takes away her free will, rapes her, tortures her, then kills her. He makes it last for days - or however long her body holds up. So how about we really get to the heart of Trickstering and hand out a little karmic justice?"

The smile that spread across Fred's face was feral, and Gabriel was glad to see it. Being a Trickster wasn't all fun and games - well, okay, yeah it was, but some of those games were ugly.

"Let's get started then. Go ahead, Fred, this is your ballgame."

With that somewhat disturbing smile still in place, Fred snapped his fingers, bringing into existence the form of a pretty woman with a bag of groceries hurrying through the rain.

Fred's hand was shaking when he snapped his fingers again, dispelling the image of the blood splattered woman. With her gone, the view of Rookwood's mutilated, shackled body was unobstructed.

Fred stared at the figure a long time, shaking and pale, before he turned toward the corner and gagged.

"I don't think I put the ability to puke in that body of yours," Gabriel said offhandedly from where he was leaning on the wall as he kicked Rookwood's spleen back over toward the body.

He had to admit, despite the weak stomach here at the end, Fred's stamina for torturing this bastard had been impressive. And pretty darn inventive, too. Gabriel was once again reassured that he'd picked the right man for the job.

"So, this is what it really is, then? This Trickster business. Killing…"

"That's up for you to decide," Gabriel said with a shrug Fred couldn't see. "You pick your own victims and decide the punishment they deserve. What's that human saying? Judge, jury and executioner?"

"Like God."

Gabriel stiffened immediately, his eyes going sharp and his voice flat as he answered, "No, not like God. God judges souls, we simply judge deeds."

Fred stayed quiet and Gabriel zapped them out of the basement of Rookwood's concealed house, confident that his body would rot there for ages. The house would be falling apart and his bones would be dust before the spell that hid his hiding place form view wore off.

They landed by a quiet lake in the States, the complete opposite of the blood stained torture chamber in Rookwood's basement. He watched Fred sit down on the grass, a little bit of color coming back to his naturally pale face.

"Most of the time, such extremes aren't necessary," Gabriel admitted, but kept silent in the fact that he usually opted for the extreme anyway. "You see a guy picking on a girl for believing in aliens, you let him have a little probe-tastic visit himself. You see a guy that thinks it's fun to hunt deer, you turn him into one for a day or two. You see a diner cook that likes to put spunk in the food, you make it so everything he eats tastes like his own dick for the rest of his life. See? Not so bad, right?"

Fred actually cracked a smile, flooding Gabriel with the unfamiliar feeling of relief. He'd been a little worried that he'd pressed too far too fast, but it seemed as if Fred was adapting. Good thing, too… Time was up.

"Come on, kid. I'll show you my favorite pair to prank. Then maybe we'll pay that little Hermione chick a visit, freak her out by taking away her ability to read for a day."

Fred snickered and stood to join Gabriel, bumping his shoulder good naturedly as he did. Gabriel ruffled his hair, and thought of his own little brothers, preparing for war. His eyes darkened as he wondered what the future held. Glancing at Fred again before zipping away, he thought that maybe, just maybe, he wanted humanity to go on. That maybe it was time to step up as a son and a brother.