Fallen Angels were rare.
It wasn't because there weren't many angel's that wanted to know what it was like to be human, wanted the choices that Free Will would grant them. It was because of the simple fact that if an angel Fell, there wasn't any guarantee that they would survive the experience and if they did? If they managed to successfully become human and live a human life? Well, after a while they would eventually find their Grace, reclaim their memories and return to the Host.
Or die as the Grace, everything they once were, ate them from the inside out. It really wasn't any surprise that not many angels took that chance.
Now Gabriel hadn't Fallen, in the strictest sense; he hadn't willingly ripped out his Grace and become human. Gabriel had died after having his own sword shoved through his gut.
So when the process of regaining his Grace didn't go exactly as it should have, Gabriel really couldn't find it in himself to be surprised.
His current situation was odd; he was Gabriel but he wasn't. Not completely, anyways, and not in the way that he had been before. He also had the misfortune to find himself stuck in the back of his own mind, not really completely apart of his human soul but slowly getting there.
When Harry's (their) hand had touched the tree and the flood of memories had consumed them both, Gabriel had been disappointed to note that their reintegration into one being hadn't gone as planned. They were Harry and they were Gabriel but they were also neither. Sure, his Grace had filled his human body but that was it. They weren't one in the same yet, weren't completely merged with one another.
Their Grace, once settled, sat unmoving in the core of their human body and what was left of Gabriel's consciousness was left sitting in the back of his human counterpart's mind with nothing but white walls to great him.
There had been a hint of something else there when he had first arrived; a dark shadowed corner that reminded him of the most twisted demons residing in Hell but his Grace had easily destroyed whatever it was and Gabriel had been by his lonesome ever since.
Quite frankly, he was bored.
He was also hopeful. He could feel his Grace mixing slowly with his human soul, easing them together in a way that would hopefully keep from destroying them as it had angels in the past. Gabriel really didn't want to re-experience dying again anytime soon, thank you.
That unfortunately meant that he would have to be content in waiting for the process to complete itself at its current rate and Gabriel let out the most frustrate sigh as he could.
This was going to take a while.
Harry was reluctant to board the train home, when the time came. Hogwarts had quickly become his home and Hope had become one of his closest friends. He didn't want to leave Hagrid behind, either and though Ron and Hermione would be on the train with him, he was dreading the moment he would have to say goodbye when they arrived at the station.
He was also anxious about something and could feel a strange itch of excitement beneath his skin. The feeling confused him and had been confusing him for weeks now. It was ever present and it constantly nagged at the back of his head. Trying to originate the origin of the feeling was nearly impossible as it felt as if it had always been there but was only now making itself known.
He'd first noticed it after he'd woken up in a meadow with Hope, deep into the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid had found them there sleeping next to the most beautiful and green tree in the entire forest. For the life of him, Harry couldn't remember having gotten there or what had caused him to fall asleep in the first place but as Hope hadn't seemed to worried, he let the nagging feeling of having forgotten something fade as the days passed.
Voldemort had been a suitable distraction in that area as well.
The not so dead Dark Lord was another area of confusion for the preteen. Quirrell had been unable to touch him, his hands burning whenever he tried and though Dumbledore's explanation made his stomach flutter, somehow Harry doubted that it was a result of something his mother had done when he was only a baby. After all, how many times had Dudley and his friends managed to chase him down and beat him? How had the jinx that Quirrell had attempted worked if he was protected?
It just didn't add up.
"Come on Harry! The train's about to leave!" Ron called pulling Harry from his thoughts of what had happened only a mere few days ago.
Giving one last look at the castle, the only place that he'd ever felt at home, Harry boarded the train for home, already counting down the days until he would be able to come back.
A pale and rather gaunt looking man watched the train leave with a frown. He, just like every other being sensitive to such things, had felt the explosion of power that had shaken the cosmos itself.
However, the human that was at the center of the explosion looked, at first glance, like every other human that was walking about the small station.
Yet, if he looked closely enough, he could see the pale outline of three magnificent pairs of wings before they would blink out of existence once more, as if they'd never been there. In all of his years, the pale man had never seen anything like this before and that he was seeing it now was both interesting and more alarming than he would care to admit.
"What are You up too?" he murmured as he looked up at the sky above. While he knew that the being he was addressing wasn't there, the pale rider could almost imagine the smug radiance that would emit from His form as he looked past blue sky and bright stars into another dimension entirely.
With one last look at the human that was the fourth, and the youngest, ArchangelYes Death turned from the station and began to walk away.
He still had much work to do.
And maybe, just maybe, a couple of humans to speak to.