"My, my, my Dean Winchester you are quite the pickle," the Sorting Hat told him. "I can think of ways you would do well in every House. Your resolve to get things done at any cost, oh the Slytherin House would be a very nice fit for that. But you are fiercely loyal as well, strikingly so. Hufflepuff values that above all, which would make you a lovely addition there as well. You aren't dim either, not at all. Quite the mind you have on you I see. Ravenclaw would love to have that."

"So why not just throw me into one of them?" Dean asked, terribly uncomfortable with the idea of anyone being able to fully see into his hat. Even if it was a hat. "Does it matter?"

"Oh, yes, very much so," the Hat laughed. "More than you or I realize, I am sure."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean asked.

"Well, it occurs to me that your friend the Guide may very well have more in store for you here than immediately meets the eye," the Hat made a throat-clearing sound, which was odd coming from something with no throat. "Mr. Winchester, I think that this world may very well be good for you. In my opinion, there is really only one House that truly suits someone as courageous as you."

An expectant hush had fallen over the Hall and the hat spoke up, "Yes, yes, I have the perfect House for you. GRYFFINDOR!"

A roar went up from the center-right table, the students there clapping enthusiastically. The Sorting Hat was plucked off of Dean's head and Professor McGonnogal gestured for him to take a seat at the Gryffindor table. One of the students, Dean recognized him as the one who had accosted him earlier about Quidditch, had stood up and was beckoning to him with a positively manic expression. The second that Dean sat down beside Oliver, the older Gryffindor leaned in and began to whisper to him in very rapid tones.

"Sam Winchester!" McGonnogal called.
"Guess I'm up," the younger Winchester said, striding forward.

"Aah, the other Winchester." The Hat said, almost as though savoring the words. "I had made a few guesses about what your mind would be like from what I saw from Dean, but I wasn't as close as I had imagined."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked in a low voice so that no one could hear their conversation.

"Well, your brother is fairly straight forward. Protect his family, kill monsters, enjoy the little things," the Hat paused and then thought better of his statement. "You know, that does not do his mind justice. For time's sake let's just say that his mind focuses on different issues than yours does. At least some to a different degree at any rate. But, moving on from him. This is about you."

"Just put me in Gryffindor with Dean," Sam said. "You can see how well we work together."

"Mm, yes. Yes, I can." It said, mulling over the idea. "But at the same time, I have to wonder what would be achieved when you two are working against one another? Especially when it's pride, not death, on the line. Yes, yes, I quite like that idea."

"Wait, what are you-?" Sam began to ask, almost rising off of the stool.

"SLYTHERIN!" the Hat roared, drawing a distinctly feminine groan from three of the tables and a roar of approval from the students garbed in green and silver. Sam groaned internally, but nonetheless got up and made his way over to the table that McGonnogal pointed out. A blonde haired student moved over for him to sit down and patted him on the back in welcome, a triumphantly wicked gleam in his eye.

"Castiel Novak!" McGonnogal called, startling the angel. When Castiel hesitated she rolled her eyes and beckoned him in an annoyed fashion. "Come on, quickly!"

"Think she's calling you, Feathers," Crowley said loftily, placing one hand on Cas's back and pushing him with a bit more force than necessary.

Casting a glare at Crowley, he warily ascended the steps and took a seat on the stool much like Sam and Dean had done moments before. The hat descended onto his head and Castiel was treated to the Sorting Hat's voice. "Aah, the angel." The hat was quiet for a long moment as it looked into Castiel's thoughts. "You have… quite the difficult mind." The hat fell silent again for a few minutes. "There is very little human about your mind, but there is some. Dare I say it, the Winchesters have rubbed off on you. Your mind is too foreign for Ravenclaw, you clearly aren't Slytherin material, and you are a bit too reserved for Gryffindor. But you have the patience of an immortal and your dedication and loyalty to the Winchesters means…"

"Mean what?" Castiel asked, unnerved by having something look into his thoughts. It was, usually, the other way around for him.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hat roared, drawing yet another roar from the Hall.

Castiel was quickly shuffled off by McGonnogal, evidently annoyed at how long it had taken the hat to sort the angel. The Hufflepuff students, all of them beaming, happily looking at their new arrival. "Hello," Castiel said uncertainly as they all began to clamor over one another's voice in order to introduce themselves. "It is good to meet all of you."

"Well, isn't that sweet?" Crowley asked in a quiet mocking voice, sauntering up to the stool and taking a seat. When McGonnogal placed the hat after calling 'Crowley MacLeod', he glanced up as the hat as he began to speak. "And finally we have the demon," it said in an annoying tone. "How interesting. I have been wondering about something since seeing the minds of the other three."

"And, pray tell, what is that?" Crowley asked, yawning. "I'm riveted by what you have to say."

"Whether or not you actually think of them as friends," the Hat answered with a quiet chuckle. "Interesting answer, I wonder if they are aware of how you perceive them."

"I'm not sure what you think you see in my head, but it is a twisted place. You probably have something backward." Crowley said simply. "Shall we get on with this Sorting then? I'd like to be out of the public eye as quickly as possible."

"Tactical, and adaptable to any situation," it murmured, almost to itself. "Eager to seize and opportunity before you, and make your own when you aren't presented with one."

"Please, you are making me blush," Crowley mocked. "Going to start complimenting my rosy complexion next?"

"You would do well in Slytherin, but I don't think that is where your talents would be best put to use," a quiet laugh echoed from the hat once more. "Yes, yes I think I know just the place for someone with your sort of brain."

"RAVENCLAW!" the Hat roared.

Crowley got regally up from the stool as though it was his throne and not some petty chair. He rolled his eyes and smirked coldly at the joyous expressions of those at the Ravenclaw table but he went to join them nonetheless, pushing a student over with a look and taking the now vacant seat.

The rest of the sorting Ceremony followed after that with McGonnogall reading off the list and calling first years up to be sorted. Their expressions all began as nervous but turned to relief once the hat had called out their new House. At the Gryffindor table, Dean was being forcibly engaged in conversation by Oliver Wood and the Weasley twins. "Mate, you have to practice with us soon," Fred said eagerly, an odd statement as he generally avoided practicing for anything except for mischief-making.

"With you teaching us, we can really knock those other teams for a loop," George agreed, a nefarious light dancing in his eyes. "I still have a newspaper clipping from that time you hit the Bludger from one side of the pitch to the other and knocked out the other team's keeper. That was seriously wicked."

"Well, you know how it goes," Dean said, still wondering what in the Hell this Quidditch game was. "Hit them hard enough and they won't get back up."

This seemed to have an odd effect on the three as a wicked and twisted smile began to spread across their faces. "Professor, I don't usually like teachers, but I think we will make an exception for you."

"That's right you will," Oliver told them forcibly. "When you are in his class you will mind the straight and narrow. No pranks, no anything, or I will start holding three-a-day practices."

"You wouldn't," George said, horror written all over his face. "That's cruel, even for you, and you are a psychopath when it comes to Quidditch."

"It's my last year," Oliver told them. "We are winning the cup, or I will make sure we die trying."

"Yeah, that's the right attitude to have!" Dean said, smiling at the enthusiasm.

At the Slytherin table, Sam found himself actually enjoying himself much to his surprise. From his knowledge of the books, he knew Slytherins to be much the villainous character. But, then again, the books were written through the eyes of a Gryffindor which would explain the animosity. "So your parents run an apothecary?" Sam asked a dark haired girl who was looking at him with longing eyes. He waited for a response before waving his hand in front of her face to get her attention. "Hey, you still with me?"

"I have your poster on my bedroom wall," she sighed, not even disguising her interest.

Sam sat back slightly, glanced away, back to her, and then away once more. "So, what about you?"

"Me mum works at St. Mungo's," the Slytherin, a freshly sorted first year, said with a nervous tremor in his voice. "Me da works in the Ministry in the Magical Law Enforcement Department."

"Sounds like you have some very interesting family members," Sam smiled.

"Professor," a blonde-haired Slytherin that was all-too familiar began. "Is it true what they say about you?"

"I'm beginning to see that people say a lot about my brother and me," Sam answered truthfully.

"Is it true that you've killed four Dark Wizards at once in a duel?" Malfoy asked eagerly, Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him looking just as intrigued by the story. "And didn't get a scratch on you?"

Across the Hall, Castiel was watching in interest as a small chess piece was smashed to bits by another one. "This is very interesting," he said, reaching for a pawn and subsequently getting slashed by the pawn's tiny sword as a result. He quickly retracted his hand and frowned at the chess piece. "Wizard's chess, you say?"

"Do you not have Wizard's chess in America, Professor?" A student asked incredulously. "Seriously?"

"I am sure that we do, but I spend my time doing other things than playing idle games," Castiel told them.

"Like negotiating treaties with Muggles?" a student asked. "My cousin lives in America, her mom and dad couldn't stop talking about it for weeks to my parents. How did you do it?"

Castiel thought on this question for a few moments before something Dean once told him swam to the forefront of his mind. "People are a lot happier when they are drunk," Castiel told them, mimicking the wise look and wink that Dean had given him when he had delivered the same line.

The Hufflepuffs seemed even more intrigued by this and began to ask even more questions.

At the last table, Crowley found himself drawn into conversation with the students and he wasn't sure how they had done it. Clever little bastards. "No, if you wait too long to collect on a deal you risk losing the agreed upon price to begin with." He argued, narrowing his eyes at the student.

"But if you give them more time you might be able to collect more from them," the girl shot back. "Investment versus return time versus total return is just good business knowledge."

"It's all well and good, in theory, but in the real world people aren't as kind as they are in your head," Crowley told her simply.

"That's why you have people who are even meaner than the people you do deals with to back you up." She grinned.

That left Crowley at a loss, impressed against his will. "Not bad." He admitted to her. "You might have potential."

Well readers, from the entries I have seen there are two possible crossovers I could write next. Mortal Instruments or The Avengers universe. So, I have decided to write them both. To those of you wishing for an anime crossover, I have something in the works but I need to read up on the manga in question. Thank you, as always, for reading.

Cheers, Hallowed