The Sorting Hat's New Song

Dean stared moodily out of the window, not bothering to join in the conversation in the carriage, thoughts of Cas swirling around in his mind. His eyes swept the grounds, but he didn't see any more bursts of light. He didn't even notice when the carriages had stopped and he had to be yanked out by Ron, and still no sign of Cas when he watched everyone climb down from their carriages. Dean grudgingly went inside, the smell of food pulling him in.

The Entrance Hall was ablaze with torches and echoing with footsteps as the students crossed the flagged stone floor for the double doors leading to the Great Hall.

The four long house tables were filling up under the starless black ceiling, which was just like the sky they could glimpse through the high windows. Candles floated in midair all along the tables, illuminating the silvery ghosts who were dotted around the Hall. If Dean had been paying attention, he would have noticed the stares and whispers being aimed at Harry and John.

Luna drifted off to the Ravenclaw table, and Sherlock lingered with John for a moment before going with her. The rest of them filed down the Gryffindor table and found seats about half way down, with Nearly-Headless Nick floating nearby.

As soon as he had taken a seat between John and Hermione, Dean began closely scanning the Ravenclaw table. Sherlock was beside Luna, and Dean spotted Padma Patil, the other fifth-year Prefect, but no Cas.

'Seen Cas?' he asked.

John didn't respond at first. His fists were clenched in front of him on the table, his eyes were flitting around and he was blinking rapidly. 'Erm...no…'he said eventually, then clamping his mouth shut.

'Who's that?' Hermione said sharply, drawing everyone's attention to the top table.

Dumbledore was in his usual seat, wearing deep purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. His head was inclined towards the woman sitting next to him, who was talking in his ear. She had short, curly, mouse-brown hair, in which she had placed a horrible pink bow that matched the fluffy cardigan she was wearing over her robes. Then she turned her face, revealing pallid, toad like features, with a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes.

'It's that Umbridge woman!' said Harry.

'Who?' asked Hermione.

'She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!'

Dean started as he recognised the name and wrinkled his nose. 'Not Dolores Umbridge?' he said in disgust. 'Her werewolf laws are awful.'

Then John spat out his drink, suddenly unable to suppress a laugh.

'Sorry, is werewolf discrimination funny, or…?'

John shook his head. 'I think I accidentally named my toad after her. Dolly.' John dissolved into laughter again.

'What on earth is she doing here?' Hermione frowned. She scanned the staff table, eyes narrowed. 'No,' she muttered, 'surely not…'

Before Dean could ask her to elaborate, the door to the Great Hall opened and a long line of first-years entered, led by Professor McGonagall. She was carrying the Sorting Hat and its three-legged stool.

The buzz of talk in the Hall faded away. The first-years lined up in front of the staff table and Professor McGonagall placed the hat and the stool before them.

Dean remembered how scared everyone around him had been, but he was more confused than anything else, and resigned to the fact that he wouldn't be going to Ilvermorny, and he would be spending the next few years in this strange country. He didn't even know what being sorted into Gryffindor would mean.

The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the brim of the hat opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:

In times of old when I was new

And Hogwarts barely started

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted:

United by a common goal,

They had the selfsame yearning,

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

'Together we will build and teach!'

The four good friends decided

And never did they dream that they

Might some day be divided,

For were there such friends anywhere

As Slytherin and Gryffindor?

Unless it was the second pair

Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there and so can tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, 'We'll teach just those

Whose ancestry is purest.'

Said Ravenclaw, 'We'll teach those whose

Intelligence is surest.'

Said Gryffindor, 'We'll teach all those

With brave deeds to their name.'

Said Hufflepuff, 'I'll teach the lot,

And treat them just the same.'

These differences caused little strife

When they first came to light,

For each four founders had

A house in which they might

Take only those they wanted, so,

For instance, Slytherin

Took only pure-blood wizards

Of great cunning just like him,

And only those of sharpest mind

Were taught by Ravenclaw

While the bravest and the boldest

Went to daring Gryffindor.

Good Hufflepuff took the rest,

And taught them all she knew,

Thus the houses and their founders

Retained friendships firm and true.

So Hogwarts worked in harmony

For several happy years,

But then discord crept among us

Feeding on our faults and fears.

The houses that, like pillars four,

Had once held up our school,

Now turned upon each other and,

Divided, sought to rule

And for a while it seemed the school

Must meet an early end,

What with duelling and with fighting

And the clash of friend on friend

And at last there came a morning

When old Slytherin departed

And though the fighting then died out

He left us quite downhearted.

And never since the founders four

Were whittled down to three

Have the houses been united

As they were once meant to be.

And now the Sorting Hat is here

And you all know the score:

I sort you into houses

Because that is what I'm for,

But this year I'll go further,

Listen closely to my song:

Though condemned I am to split you

Still I worry that it's wrong

Though I must fulfil my duty

And must quarter you every year

Still I wonder whether Sorting

May not bring the end I fear.

Oh, know the perils, read the signs,

The warning history shows,

For our Hogwarts is in danger

From external deadly foes

And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within

I have told you, I have warned you

Let the Sorting now begin.

The Hat became motionless once more; applause broke out, though it was punctured by muttering and whispers.

Dean considered its words carefully. The Sorting Hat usually confined itself to describing the qualities looked for by each of the four houses and its own role in Sorting them, but now it was trying to give them advice and convince them to band together. Dean felt no house pride, nor any loyalty to the school itself, but he thought of Sam and felt a sickening jolt as he thought of Cedric. The Hat thought they should all stick together, but it only made Castiel's disappearance more glaringly obvious. Dean glanced over at the Ravenclaw table again, at the empty seat that Sherlock had saved for Cas. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, however, as John began to tremble next to him, and Sherlock's eyes bored into them as he ground the handle of his knife into the table. Dean put an arm around John to keep him steady while he had his vision, and watched Professor McGonagall begin reading out the names on her long piece of parchment.

She began with 'Abercrombie, Euan!' who came to Gryffindor, and ended with 'Zeller, Rose!' who went to Hufflepuff.

Dean was glad when it was over, his stomach had started to rumble, and John pushed his arm away just as Dumbledore rose to begin the feast.

'To our newcomers,' Dumbledore said in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his lips, 'welcome! To our old hats - welcome back! There is time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!'

There was an appreciative laugh and an outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of his plate.

Dean piled food onto his plate, eager to eat, but eager to finish so he could talk to Dumbledore. He reached across the table for a jug of gravy, but he didn't quite make it, his scars restricting his movement. Hermione passed it to him without a word. Dean poured his gravy, rubbing the spot on his shoulder that felt the tightest, and began wolfing down his food. The upside to having werewolf scratches was that Sam no longer bothered him about what he ate. He always just put it down to whatever weird lycanthropic craving Dean was having that day. He'd also had to start shaving, much to Sam's amusement. Not that he didn't enjoy the looks he got for it, but they never came from the one person he wanted them to. He glanced up at Cas's empty seat again, earning himself an eye roll from Sherlock.

At last the food was finished, and talking ceased immediately as everyone turned to face Dumbledore.

'Well, now that we're all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start of term notices,' said Dumbledore. 'First-years ought to note that the Forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students - a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.'

John shuddered beside Dean, and Harry, Ron and Hermione gave each other amused smirks. Dean frowned. Of all of them, he was the one that had spent the least amount of time in the Forest. Even Cas had been in the Forest more than he had. He immediately made plans to rectify the situation. No way did he want to be seen as the well-behaved one in the group.

'Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door.

'We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.'

There was a round of polite but unenthusiastic applause.

Dumbledore continued, 'Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the-'

He broke off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge cleared her throat, 'Hem, hem,' and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech.

Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge. Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as they had ever seen it. No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking; obviously this woman did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

'Thank you, Headmaster,' Professor Umbridge simpered, 'for those kind words of welcome.'

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish. Dean felt a powerful rush of dislike. He loathed everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. She gave another little throat clearing cough ('hem, hem') and continued.

'Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!' She smiled widely. 'And to see such happy little faces looking up at me! I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!'

Contempt welled up inside Dean, and he heard whispers and giggles coming from Lavender and Parvati some way down the table.

John beside him had his fists clenched on the table. His eyes were unfocused, staring into space, but his expression was twisted into one of deep disgust.

Umbridge launched into what seemed to be a well-rehearsed speech, and Dean's concentration disappeared almost immediately. He felt himself getting fidgety, so he looked around to watch everyone else.

Sherlock was resting his head on the table, not even trying to hide the fact that he wasn't paying attention. John was still stuck in whatever vision he was having, but Dean knew John would grab him if he needed. Sam was still watching Umbridge, concerned creases forming between his eyebrows. Many other people started chatting and Luna pulled out her copy of The Quibbler. Despite all this, Umbridge plowed through her speech, showing no signs of having noticed that restlessness of her audience.

Dean's mind once again wandered back to Cas. He would have been listening intently, Dean bet, and the thought if Cas's face deeply concentrating made him smile. Dean sighed. He'd never expected himself to feel so strongly about someone, but he just couldn't push it away. Smitten was the word Sam would use.

Dean didn't even notice that Umbridge had finished her speech until Dumbledore's voice rang out again.

'Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,' he said, giving her a small bow. 'Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held at the end of the month, so please notify your captains of your interest if you wish to participate. But now, it is time for bed, off you all pop!'

Chairs scraped as everyone got to their feet, and Dean jumped up.

'Hermione, what's the password?' Dean said hurriedly, hopping from one foot to the other, staring up at the staff table.

'Mimbulus mimbletonia,' she said.

'Of course it is. See ya.'

Dean pushed his way between the house tables, against the flow of students trying to leave the Hall. He finally emerged at the top of the room and ran towards Dumbledore, but was stopped by McGonagall before he could reach him.

'Can I help you, Winchester?' she asked.

'Yeah, I just gotta talk to Professor Dumbledore-' he tried to go around her, but she just stepped into his path.

'The Headmaster is very busy, perhaps I can be of assistance,' McGonagall said firmly.

Dean looked desperately over her head just in time to see Dumbledore disappear through the door at the back of the Hall. He sighed and looked at McGonagall. 'Fine. It's about Cas. Something is really wrong and we gotta do something about it. Professor, I don't think he's safe.'

McGonagall's expression softened ever so slightly, but she didn't move. 'We're looking into it,' she said evasively.

'Looking into it?' Dean repeated. 'What's that supposed to mean? I brought this up weeks ago, haven't you seen him? We have to help him now.'

'We're doing what we can.'

'But what?'

'I can't discuss this with you now, Winchester. Please return to your dormitory, and remember that you will now be with the other fifth-years.'

Dean groaned and stomped from the Hall. He knew he wouldn't get any further that night, so he climbed the marble staircase. He briefly thought of Professor Umbridge and grimaced. If her teaching in any way involved her awful views on werewolves, centaurs, and other creatures, then they would be in trouble. His scars prickled uncomfortably.

When he arrived in the dormitory, it was to a tense atmosphere. Seamus and Harry were already hidden behind their curtains, and John was holding his pajamas limply in his hands.

'We wondered who that was for,' Ron muttered, nodding at the extra bed that had been squeezed into the room.

'Yep, it's me.'

'Aren't you going to miss your friends?' Neville said in concern.

Dean snorted. 'Trust me, McLaggen will not miss me.' Everyone turned to their beds, full and sleepy from the feast, and Dean crouched beside John's bed. 'You need some help with that?' he said in amusement.

John shook his head and mumbled something unintelligible, then pulled the curtains around his bed.

Dean was the last to go to bed. He struggled to get changed, his scars tugging whenever he lifted his arms. He lay down hot, itchy and irritated, falling asleep with Cas on his mind.

Welcome back everyone! Thanks to Morgan Teri Befan, Guest and Morgause Pendragon for the reviews! See you again soon!