After their, admittedly, brief meeting Dumbledore led the five men through the school, offering bits of trivia and advice regarding the many different quirks of the school. "And here we are," the old man said, opening a large door with one arm and making a sweeping gesture with the other. A large amount of noise came from within, everyone quickly identifying the voices as those belonging to children. "After you, I insist."
"You first, Mr. Model," Dean said, barely concealing a smirk at Sam's expense.
Sam scowled at his brother but took the invitation nonetheless, striding through the doorway. Cas, then Crowley, and finally Dean and Lupin entered the door. Evidently sensing the new arrivals, the students turned their heads to see who had arrived so late. By the time that they had reached the center of the Great Hall, Dumbledore following behind them with a pleasant grin, an expectant hush had fallen over the students. A small group of extremely young looking students were gathered at the front of the room; an elderly woman in a tall black witch's hat stood in front of them. She held a long list in her hand and at her side was an old stool with a worn and tattered hat on top of it.
"Please, would you mind standing with the new first years?" Dumbledore asked as he swept past them and took his place at the center of the table at which sat other older looking witches and wizards.
Dean and the others glanced around at the students, wary to see every eye on them. "Uh, what's going on?" Dean muttered to Sam under his breath. "Why the hell are they all staring at us?"
"Well the Guide did say we are all well known," Sam muttered back.
"What did the Headmaster mean when he referenced a Sorting Ceremony?" Cas wondered.
One little kid, probably barely thirteen, was gawking at them a little more intensely than the others and Crowley seemed to notice this. He sidled over to the child in question and leaned down, whispering something in his ear. The gawker immediately turned pale white and turned around to face forward, his back ramrod straight. "I hate children," Crowley said in response to the questioning glance that Lupin sent his way. "Disgusting little vultures, the lot of them."
"Don't you think you might be in the wrong place of employment then?" Lupin asked, frowning at the demon.
"Don't mind him," Dean said hurriedly, shooting Crowley a warning glance. "He has this saying, 'You don't need to like someone to slap a bandage on their ass.' Isn't that right, Crowley?"
"Oh, yes, of course." He said, contempt dripping from his words. "I am ever so devoted to my work you see."
"Ah, well, I suppose that makes sense," Lupin said, appearing unconvinced.
"Actually that logic does make sense." Castiel interjected. "It is, after all, the same logic that God employed when he stepped down from watching over mortals."
"Pardon me?" Lupin asked, frowning.
"Don't worry, he wasn't dead like we thought." Castiel assured him, "He was merely masquerading as a human, an author in fact."
Lupin opened his mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch on his tongue as he stopped moving. In fact, everyone stopped. "You have got to be kidding me," The Guide said, appearing from the air beside Lupin. "I knew that you had a tendency to ramble, Castiel, but I never imagined it was this bad."
"I was not rambling, I was informing him of the-." Castiel began to protest.
"Okay, fine, but you can't just start talking like that. People here will look at you like you are different."
"But I am different," Castiel said slowly. "I'm an angel."
The Guide looked at him curiously for a few moments and then burst into laughter. "You haven't noticed yet?" she asked incredulously. "Really? Wow, I'm surprised. Have you, Crowley?"
Sam and Dean turned to the demon, their faces drawn into curious expressions. "What's she talking about?"
"I believe that your meddlesome friend is referring to the fact that both the harp-player and I are both human," Crowley said, a bit sourly.
"Wait, what?" Dean demanded, turning back to Guide.
"Oh, come on. I sent you to an entirely different dimension and turning them into humans is what bothers you?" She asked with an annoyed stamp of her foot.
"Yeah, see, that's not the problem here," Sam said. "Cas might have been human before, but he isn't a very good one. He already has to figure out how to teach these kids about normal humans, which is going to be hard enough on him as it is."
"You know, you might have a point there," She admitted, crossing her arms and thinking. She then shrugged and smiled at them. "But, as you would say Dean, 'deal with it'."
"Wow, way to be a douche," Dean snapped. "You get off on this, don't you?"
"I might," She admitted, winking at him. "I'm going to resume time now. I cancelled out all the memories of your conversation with Lupin and replaced them with you speaking about how you will divide the work between your classes, Sam."
Her eyes blazed blue as she smiled again, vanishing. The sound in the Hall returned to a dull roar and Remus was saying, "You see, I feel as though a boggart may very well be a bit too advanced for second years but third years may well be able to handle it. The spell used to combat them isn't difficult, at least not overly so."
Now at least somewhat used to the Guide's abrupt appearance and disappearances, Sam smoothly stepped into the conversation. "Absolutely," he said nodding, glancing up to Dumbledore as he stood up and raised his hand for silence. Instantly, the entire Great Hall was even quieter than it had been when the five new professors had walked in.
"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, his voice echoing throughout the Hall though he didn't speak above his normal tones. "Before we begin our Sorting Ceremony, I would like for all of you to give your warmest welcome to our six newest professors."
"Six?" Dean wondered.
"In addition to the five you see before you, Rubeus Hagrid will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures alongside Dean Winchester. Remus Lupin and Sam Winchester will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. For those of you who wish to continue your Muggle Studies class into Muggle Government, Professor Castiel will be here for you. We also have a new face for the Hospital Wing, Mister Crowley will be joining Madame Pomfrey in order to better tackle any potential injuries that you will receive this year."
Dumbledore began to clap and soon the Great Hall roared with applause, the six men who had been addressed awkwardly waved off the applause except for Crowley whose face was set in a picture of disdain. "This is a bit of a new issue for Hogwarts as we have never before hired someone who was taught at a foreign school. There have been several complaints raised about my choice so in order for some tradition to be preserved the new professors, with the exception of Remus Lupin who is already a Gryffindor-" (Dumbledore paused as the Gryffindor table roared in approval) "have agreed to take place in this year's sorting ceremony."
Dumbledore sat back down and looked expectantly upon the hat which sat upon the old stool. Dean and the others followed his line of sight and took a slight step backward when the hat's brim ripped open and it began to sing. "Dude, hats sing in this place?" Dean demanded in a whisper. "The hell?"
"Not all hats, just this one," Sam responded.
"It's got a decent voice," Dean said after contemplating this. "Although I'd prefer some classic rock, but hey, I'm not judging."
Sam snorted in response and gave a small shake of his head. Dean glanced to Cas and saw that the former angel was looking at the hat with the same level of suspicion he reserved for monsters or computers. "Dude, it's a hat."
"I don't trust it," Cas responded just as the hat finished singing.
The woman in the pointed black hat cleared her throat and brought up the list. "Dean Winchester." She called clearly, picking up the hat with one hand.
Sam gave him a small push and Dean slowly began to move forward, the group of first-years moving aside to let him pass. He ascended the few steps to the stool and slowly took his seat. McGonnagall placed the hat on his head and took a step back as the brim split once more and a voice began to speak to Dean. "Hm, interesting life you have lived Dean Winchester." the hat said slyly. "And I don't mean this one. I can see it all in here, every experience you have had. The Mark of Cain? Nasty business that. Being tortured in hell? Quite a tough time, that. Oh, I could spend all night just looking through these nasty memories of yours. But I suppose if I did that, your friend the Guide would just show up eh? Might as well do my job. Let's see here… Rash. Very rash, but calculated. Plenty of intelligence here, though I doubt as much as Sam. Wonderful resolve to do whatever it takes to do the right thing. Occasionally skewed sense of right and wrong, but you try to do the best by your friends. My, my, my. So many conflictions rattling around in here. Where to put you, Dean Winchester, where to put you…"