~ * Ecdysis ~ *

You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
If you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin,
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

- Hogwart's Sorting Hat

Kronos may lay eternally beneath the ashen banks of Azkaban, but his iron fist was forever fixed around the Olympian hearth. Hades sat in the armchair of his late father, the green leather at his back as cold as his father's old embrace. Above the crackling fireplace at his feet lay a green and white scarf, as clean and vibrant as the day it was dyed, the twisted serpent of Kronos' house stretching high above it. Hades' head didn't turn, but he knew, could feel as keenly as the thrumming in his veins, the case behind him that held Kronos' old Hogwarts uniform and Salazar Slytherin's own silver staff. Hestia sat calmly across from him, a book open on her lap and needle in hand as she mended their mother's handkerchief when Rhea herself came in, letter in hand. Hades, only two hours now eleven years of age, knew what it was.

Hestia's sewing didn't waver, but her kind, warm eyes rose to meet his, if only briefly before Rhea stepped forward and blocked her from view.

"Look what the owl brought," his mother cooed, holding Hades' fate in her hands.

She meant well, really, she thought she brought him great news. And in a way, Hades supposed, she was. Hogwarts was, after all, a perfectly good school, a respected school. It would, he thought somewhat bitterly as he took the letter from his mother's soft hands, be strange if he asked to attend Beauxbatons like his sisters. He could only imagine how that would go over: but why don't you want to attend your father's school?

The artful inscription on the front of the letter was beautiful, even in the simple spelling of his name. With a heavy heart, he broke the red seal and let the contents tumble out. Rhea's eyes were bright with pride as he unfurrowed the parchment. There was no smile on his lips as he held the letter high for his mother and sister to see.

"I have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Rhea beamed.

"Dad went to Azkaban because he was bad, right?"

"Play with your toys," Hestia gently corrected a young Zeus, not looking up from her book as she gently rolled his bright blue ball back towards the round-faced child.

Zeus grabbed the ball with both hands, his little brow puckered and lips pouted. The Olympian children gathered around the giant willow outside their familial home. Demeter was inside with Rhea, doing adult things Hestia said, which Hades knew meant their mother was sad again. Zeus, six years old and as right a terror as freshly caught Cornish pixies, couldn't understand. He was too young to remember Kronos. Poseidon, body half on, half off a low-lying limb of the old tree, had a scar lacing across his collarbone from their father. Hades doubted his memories would ever fade.

"Yes," Poseidon unhelpfully supplied.

"Yes what?" Zeus asked, looking up sharply, already having forgotten his question.

"Dad went to Azkaban because he was bad."

"Poseidon," Hestia chastised lightly.

Hades said nothing, stretched out in the protection of the willow's wide foliage. The girls were always like that, not wanting to talk about Kronos or Azkaban or anything bad. Adult things they said, as if Demeter weren't only two years older than Hades and Hestia a mere three and a half. Sometimes Hades thought Demeter didn't want to talk about it because Kronos never hit her. Of course, Kronos never hit Hestia either but Hestia would stand in front of Hades so Kronos couldn't hit him. Demeter just brought water and towels after.

As if sensing his bitter thoughts, Hestia looked up and met Hades' eyes. Hades immediately looked away, guilty.

Zeus gave his ball an experimental bounce.

"If Dad was bad and he was in Slytherin, does that mean Slytherin is bad?"

"Zeus darling, if someone—" Hestia tried to explain, her voice soft and melodious.

"Yes," Poseidon cut in, speaking over their sister.

"Poseidon," Hestia scowled, turning displeased eyes on him and the little rascal had the decency to avert his eyes, chastised but unrepentant.

"All of Dad's friends were in Slytherin," Poseidon argued, staring fixedly at the tree bark, "and half of them are in Azkaban. That stupid tutor, Chiron, he's a Ravenclaw and I heard him say Slytherins are awful, evil people."

"Chiron likes to sound smart," Hestia huffed, leaning forward to bat at Poseidon's dangling foot. He quickly swung it up to safety before she could get more than one or two gentle swipes. "And he thinks people will like him more if he says grand, over simplified things. He also doesn't know how to think for himself, just absorbs everything he reads."

Zeus' head perked up, "I don't gotta listen to Chiron?"

"Have to, not gotta," Hestia corrected. "And I didn't say that, just that he isn't half as smart as he thinks he is."

"Like you."

"I'm not half as smart as you think I am," Hestia laughed softly. "And you can't just stuff people into a box and label them, it doesn't work that way."

"What doesn't work that way?"

"Life, darling, life."

"I think Chiron knew what he was talking about," Poseidon grumbled, crossing his arms. "He goes to Hogwarts. He says Slytherin are cunning and convoluted."

Hades snorted; please, Poseidon didn't even know what convoluted meant. Poseidon glared down at him, his green eyes twinkling maliciously in the evil way nine-year-old's often did.

"Hades will be a Slytherin."

Zeus giggled, tilting his head so his too long hair fell into bright blue eyes.

"Poseidon," Hestia warned, frowning now.

"Because he's mean and quiet and always planning something evil, like when he made Mama cry."

"Poseidon."

Hades flinched, half from the unfortunate memory and half from his sister's voice. Somehow, her rebuke hurt worse than Poseidon's childish taunts, as if accusing him of being a Slytherin was akin to damning him.

"Well, you still wet the bed," Hades snapped back, coming to his feet and shoving at Poseidon's legs.

Zeus gave a childish shriek at the revelation and Poseidon, distracted by the noise, was toppled from the tree by Hades' shove.

"Hades hurt Poseidon! Hades hurt Poseidon!" Zeus shrieked at the top of his stupid, piercing little lungs as Hestia rushed forward to make sure Poseidon was alright. "Hades's a Slytherin! Hades's a big mean Slytherin!"

Hades stood frozen as Hestia fussed over Poseidon, who clearly wasn't hurt but moaned and whined as though Hades beat him, and Zeus shrieked and shouted abuse. Hades heart thumped hard and painful in his chest.

"Evil Slytherin! Evil Slytherin!"

"Aw, look at him."

Theia was an ugly woman, too large and too tall and just, well, too much. She smiled, too wide, and pinched his cheeks, too hard, like he was a baby. Hades tried not to scowl, his eye twitching but the rest of his face remaining stoically blank as the woman pulled away.

Rhea put her delicate hand on his shoulder, beaming with pride.

"He's so big," Theia gushed, cooing and batting her eyelashes.

"Isn't he?" Rhea asked, squeezing his shoulder and Hades almost smiled, chest puffing out.

"He looks just like his daddy."

And his chest deflated, face falling back into stone.

"Does he?" Rhea asked, her voice filled with honeyed warmth.

"Oh yes, his face, his eyes, my, the very way he holds himself screams Kronos."

Hades wanted to disappear. No, he wanted Theia to disappear. He let his eyes desperately flicker around the sparkling ballroom, the largest of the three in the Olympian house, for one of his sisters. Demeter was chasing a half-naked Zeus around the dessert table; Hestia, smiling and nodding along with one of their uncles.

"Why, he'll be a Slytherin for sure."

"What?" Hades asked, stomach dropping as he snapped his attention back to the giggling women.

"Slytherin for sure," his mother lovingly repeated, stroking his hair.

Hades heart pounded in his throat.

"What makes you so sure?"

Rhea smiled, her laugh like a thousand bells as she placed a kiss on his forehead. "Because you are just like him."

A shriek pierced the evening air—Demeter had finally caught Zeus.

"What a rascal," Rhea tsked, shaking her head.

Hades wanted to disappear.

They were always silent. Hades wasn't sure why he found the silence more unsettling than Kronos' boisterous drunken rage, but the silence was worse. The men appeared one at a time soundlessly in the doorway. They all dressed the same, dark cloaks with black and green scarves, the Slytherin badge curled in the frayed corner. The snake always stood out, a colored and unique pattern against an otherwise monotonous and bleak man. He couldn't remember all the faces, but he remembered the snake. The men would slither into Kronos' study, the door would click without a sound. Poseidon wasn't wrong when he said most of Kronos' friends suffered the same fate as their father. Long after their fates were sealed and Kronos' study forever closed, Hades remembered the silent snake.

Hogwarts started before Beauxbatons. Zeus was on Demeter's hip, alternately tugging at her hair and wailing about how it wasn't fair that Hades got to start school first. Poseidon pretended to be decidedly unimpressed at the prospect but attentive eyes watched the Hogwarts Express as eager witches and wizards bustled about. Rhea beamed with pride, her entire body radiant in a way Hades hadn't seen for years.

"The Hogwarts Express," Rhea proudly proclaimed, wrapping an arm around Poseidon. "Say goodbye to your brother, children, the next time you'll see him will be Christmas. He'll be a whole different person then, a great man in the making."

"Is he going to grow a beard?" Zeus asked skeptically.

The family ignored him.

"Got your hat? Your wand?"

"Yes, Mother," Hades sighed longsuffering. He shifted, almost tripping over the helm of his too long cloak. You'll grow into it, Hestia kindly told him the night before.

"You will do wonderfully," Hestia encouraged as the train gave a warning thrill.

"Send us loads of letters," Demeter urged.

"I want to goo," Zeus wailed, the brat, as Demeter held on tight to the squirming child.

Rhea stepped forward to take Hades' face in her hands. She bowed his head, stepping close so he could feel the warmth of her body even through all the layers of her elegant dress. She pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of his head, steady and calm.

"You make me so proud," she whispered and Hades almost smiled, his eyes closing and leaning into his mother's touch.

"Oh, you look so like him," she sighed, pulling away enough to brush a lock of hair from his face. Her words twisted something inside of him, his insides curling and hot in an unpleasant sort of way. His mouth tasted like acid.

"Well, get along, make lots of friends and don't forget to write," Rhea said as the train whistled again, students making a mad dash for the last minute boarding.

Running was not the Olympian way; it was with a slow, careful tread, his head held high, that Hades boarded the Hogwarts Express, his family's eyes on his back. It felt heavy. Having not yet found a compartment, Hades didn't have the luxury of looking out the window, of watching as his family disappeared from sight as the train trudged forward. Somehow, it felt better that way. He didn't think he could stand to watch Rhea's proud face, Hestia's kind eyes.

"Hey, do you need a place to sit?"

Hades turned slowly at the voice and found himself staring at a floppy-haired second year. The youth had an almost painfully earnest face, all round and full of baby fat and hope. It instantly put Hades on edge as the kid held a hand out to help Hades with his trunk. Hades stiffened to a perfect statue as the boy's hand curled around the handle of his trunk.

"I'm Patroclus," the youth babbled, oblivious to Hades' discomfort. "My friends and I are sitting here but we have lots of space. You're a first year, right? I'm a second, but my friend, Achilles, this is his first year too."

"Yes," Hades said, uncertain. He was fairly certain there was a question in there somewhere but the youth talked swiftly and had claimed Hades' trunk before he really knew what was happening, shoving it in the overhead compartment.

"Any pets?" Patroclus asked and the look in his eyes when he turned to Hades reminded him strongly of Hestia and for a moment, he almost allowed himself to smile.

Then the black and yellow scarf wrapped around Patroclus' neck caught his eye.

Hufflepuff, useless, cowardly things. Kronos' voice sneered in the back of his mind. They're even worse than those damn Gryffindors. Sniffling, weak. Hogwarts should expel the entire house. Nothing good's ever come from Hufflepuff. Might as well call them Muggles.

"Alright there mate?" Patroclus asked, his eyebrow puckering when Hades didn't respond.

Hades felt his face smooth out, the perfect expressionless canvas as he tried to uproot the sinister voice haunting his memories. He's a Hufflepuff, Hades thought. And I'll be a Slytherin. He won't be so friendly once I get sorted.

"Yes, fine," Hades replied and was about to ask for his trunk back, this was a mistake, when the compartment doors crashed open and a gaggle of boys fell inside, boisterously laughing, cloaks disheveled.

"Be careful," Patroclus scolded, grabbing Hades by the arm and pulling him out of the dangerous whirlwind of bony elbows and knees.

The whirlwind paid Patroclus little mind, dispersing after a moment of entropy in which many shoves, pushes and hair pulling were involved until three distinct boys were sprawled opposite a scowling Patroclus and a very still Hades.

"Hey Patroclus," one of the boys, the smallest of the three with well-trimmed curly hair, flopped down and gave what he clearly thought was a charming, innocent smile the Hufflepuff's way, as if he'd done nothing wrong. He blew the boy a kiss to which Patroclus responded by slapping him upside his curl head so hard he gave a yelp and fell clean off the seat.

"You deserved that, imp," Patroclus declared. "That's Achilles, don't mind him, his ego's far too big for his tiny brain. That one—" he pointed towards the tallest of the three, a broad boy of twelve or thirteen with perfect golden hair "—is Hercules and the last idiot is Theseus."

"Achilles is a first-year, like you," Patroclus explained as Achilles scrambled off the floor, grumbling as he dusted himself off. "Herc and Theseus are second years like me. They're both Gryffindors."

The red and gold cloaks hadn't escaped Hades' attention. His stomach tightened, from where they curled against his side. Stupid, he cursed himself as three pairs of eyes surveyed him. He'd allowed himself to be drawn into the lion's den. The lift of Hercules' jaw spoke of aristocracy, but the pride with which he wore his house's colors didn't bode well for Hades. The shoes that scuffed the floor beneath Theseus were clearly Muggle-made; he would earn zero points with that one. A cold bead of sweat rolled down Hades' neck.

Hades could only image his introduction would go: Hi, I'm Hades, son of Kronos Olympian. You know, the dangerous Slytherin who was sentenced to Azkaban for dark magic?

He might as well punch himself in the face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," Patroclus said, shoving Achilles aside so he could settle in. He propped his feet up on the opposite bench, effectively blocking Hades in.

It also happened to create an open seat across from the Hufflepuff for Hades to sit, which Hades knew must have been the older boy's intent, yet the act still felt sinister. He gingerly took the seat though, foreseeing no other option.

"Hades," he offered, taking careful, even breaths. They didn't introduce themselves with their full names, therefore he wasn't required to, right? He could do this.

Think of it as the only time you'll be able to talk civilly with other houses, he reminded himself bitterly.

"Nice to meet you Hades," Theseus greeted distractedly, much more interested in rummaging around in his trunk overhead than the inwardly panicking first year.

Hercules, however, frowned, eyes slowly panning over Hades, like a lion ready to bounce. Easy there, Hades scolded his overactive imagination. He held himself perfectly still and evenly met the golden haired boy's gaze, letting one eyebrow slowly raise in question.

"You look kind of familiar," Hercules said after a moment. "Do I know you?"

"I have never seen you before in my life," Hades truthfully replied, but now that he thought about it, there was something familiar about Hercules.

If he was a pureblood, which Hades surmised he had to be from the polish of his hair and the way he held himself, then there was no doubt Hades had met someone in his family before. There weren't exactly too many pureblooded families in Britain. There was a very real possibility that Hades had actually met Hercules before. Or, and Hades' heart began to beat rather fast now, Hercules saw Kronos in him.

"How long until we reach the castle?" Achilles asked loudly, letting his head fall on Patroclus' shoulder.

"We haven't even been on the train for twenty minutes and you're already complaining," Patroclus groaned. "Someone killed me now."

"I will be honored to put you out of your misery," Theseus said gravely, slowly drawing his wand from his sleeve with a mock graveness.

"If you would be so kind, make it quick, and tell my mother how I persevered honorably but the tribulations were just too much."

"We shall forever sing ballads in honor of your insurmountable trials," Hercules promised with a dramatic bow.

"You're all jerks," Achilles huffed, crossing his arms.

"Alas, to perish at such a tender age," Patroclus bemoaned, ignoring Achilles as he removed his hat, holding it over his heart and gazing forlornly out the window. "So bright and full of potential, my whole life stretched on before me only to be cut short by the cruel arrow of death."

"A performance worthy of the Order of Merlin, First Class," Hades said without thinking, delivered in his usual monotone manner, the one that Hestia and Demeter found hysterical.

It wasn't until the words were out of his mouth that Hades properly remembered that he was not home, these boys were not his siblings, and that he was fated to be their mortal enemy, a Slytherin. For these reasons, he was wholly unprepared for the boisterous laughter that followed his blunder. Theseus reached across Patroclus outstretched legs to slap him on the shoulder, laughing so hard his hat fell off.

"I like him, Patroclus, good eye," Hercules declared, laughing in delight. Even Achilles' lips gave a reluctant twitch as Patroclus reached over to slap his shoulder.

"I hate all of you," Achilles declared and Theseus winked, elbowing Hades in the ribs as he cackled up some more.

Hades couldn't help the minute twitch his lips gave, and the low chuckle that escaped his own lips. Well, perhaps this wasn't so bad, he thought. Maybe this could work after all. The conversation flowed after that, the boys jumping from topic to topic as though they had been friends for a lifetime.

"Reckon Slughorn will let us into his club this year?" Theseus wondered, fiddling lazily with his wand as the rain provided a rather soothing backdrop to their conversation.

"No," Patroclus snorted, rolling his eyes. To Hades, he explained, "Professor Slughorn, he's the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin. Likes to play favorites like you wouldn't believe. He's got this club—the Slug Club—"

The other three boys gaffed and snickered loudly, which Patroclus ignored, raising his voice slightly to be heard.

"—not blood-based, believe it or not," Patroclus puffed out his chest a little as he explained as Hades' eyebrow rose in mild disbelief. He had heard of Slughorn, of course. Then again, most of that knowledge came from his father's under-breath mutterings about the man and how he was a disgrace to the House.

"Only the best of the best get invited to the Slug Club," Hercules said, puffing his own chest out as though he already received an invitation.

"So that rules you out mate," Theseus snorted, which got him a dirty sock to the face.

"The best of what?" Achilles asked as Theseus yelped and scrambled away from the offending article.

"Of whatever," Patroclus explained, "The smart kids, the sly kids, the best seekers—whoever Slughorn thinks will make it big in life after Hogwarts."

"Definitely not Herc then," Achilles snorted and Theseus cackled.

"Whatever jerks," Hercules huffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. "You won't be saying that when I make the Quidditch team this year. Slughorn will invite me to his club one day, just you wait and see. Not a bad bloke, Slughorn, he's probably the only decent Slytherin to ever live."

"Here, here," Theseus agreed as the other boys nodded sagely.

Hades' stomach tightened. He refused to cast his eyes away, he had nothing to be ashamed of, but he felt kind of sick.

"What house do you reckon this shrimp will be in?" Hercules asked, oblivious to Hades' internal discomfort as he grabbed Achilles roughly by the neck and proceeded to thoroughly ruffle the younger boy's hair.

"Herc, knock it off!" Achilles demanded, legs flailing uselessly and fists pounding equally futilely against his captor. "Patroclus, help me!'

Patroclus simply shifted a little to the side, ignoring his friend's cries for help.

"Gryffindor I bet," Theseus said lazily, flicking a bit of lint off his leg. "Look at him there, bravely taking on an opponent twice his size and so obviously out of his depth."

"Shove off Theseus, Hercules stop!"

"I don't know, he's kind of scrawny," Hercules grinned.

"I'm not scrawny! I'm not! Patroclus, tell them I'll not scrawny!"

"You'll grow into it," Patroclus said dismissively. "Ravenclaw perhaps, he's quite good at chess."

All three of the boys made various groans, Hercules even stopped torturing Achilles for a moment to throw Patroclus a betrayed sort of look.

"Our Achilles in Ravenclaw? Never," he declared, wrapping the arm that a second ago was half strangling Achilles around the boy's shoulders instead. "Old chap'll be a Gryffindor for sure."

Achilles positively beamed. "That's what Mum said. I'll fight the hat if I have to. I'm a Gryffindor through and through!"

"Atta lad," Theseus said bracingly.

"As long as it's not Slytherin it doesn't really matter," Hercules said, not unkindly as he finally let Achilles go.

"Or Hufflepuff, house of nobodies. Or Ravenclaw, house of snobs. No offense Patroclus," Theseus added quickly.

"Offense fully taken," Patroclus blustered drawing himself up.

"Don't worry Patroclus, us ol' Gryffindors will defend your honor," Achilles gravely promised.

"Tossers, the lot of you," Patroclus declared, shoving Achilles off his seat.

The boys gave another rowdy laugh as Achilles scrambled off the floor.

"Whatever, see if I ever defend your honor again," Achilles said with a definite air. "Look, I'm not even going to sit back down next to you. I'll sit by my new best friend, Hades."

Thus saying, the curly haired boy wedged himself between Theseus and Hades, arms firmly crossed. He sat so close his side pressed flush against Hades, an uncomfortable warmth against his side. Hades held himself perfectly still, knowing better than to squirm. Never let the enemy know you were uncomfortable. Or friends know your weaknesses. Hades wasn't sure which applied to this ragtag group yet but he held his cards close to his chest and kept perfectly still.

"What house do you think you'll be in, Hades?" Achilles asked, turning bright, friendly eyes to his 'new best friend'.

Hades stared back, not daring to move. His breath caught in his throat, tight and hot. A man of lesser discipline might have started shaking but not Hades. His mind, lightning fast, flickering through possible responses. He could lie, say Ravenclaw and get their jovial approval for the remainder of the trip—which would then turn to horrified disgust when the hat called out Slytherin; he could tell the truth and say Slytherin, suffer their ire now and never enjoy this comradery, however short. Then he would have to go to a different compartment, suffer the shame of being evicted, sit with other Slytherins—a light tremor ran through his hands and Hades clenched them tightly.

"Probably be—" Patroclus started to say when the compartment door opened and a sweet, plump witch poked her head in:

"Anything off the trolley, dears?"

And so chocolate frogs and Bertie Bott's saved Hades from answering. The boys ravaged the cart like starving lions, gorging themselves into a sugar coma that lasted the remainder of the trip. Hades barely touched his sweets, dark eyes fixed out the window as Hogwarts slowly came into sight, rising out of the horizon like a shadow, dark and looming.

"First years take the boats to the castle," Patroclus told them as they gathered their belongings and made to exit the train. "Four to a boat, then you'll be brought to the Great Hall for the sorting."

"Yes Mother," Achilles scoffed, rolling his eyes but stayed perfectly still as Patroclus fussed with his scarf.

"We'll save you a seat, Achilles," Theseus grinned, thumping Achilles upside the head. "And you, Hades, if you get sorted into Gryffindor."

Hades tried to make his face work, a voice rather like Hestia's told him a smile would be the appropriate response, but his face revolted and a simple nod had to suffice.

"Don't let the Giant Squid get you," Hercules teased, grinning as he ruffled Achilles' hair. "See you soon, squirt."

"Jerks," Achilles called, shoving the older boy away with a grin.

"Aren't they jerks?" he repeated to Hades as the second years disappeared in the crowd. His eyes were painfully bright. "Come on, I can't wait to get sorted."

Hades disagreed with the sentiment but followed the shorter boy as he paved the way down to the waiting boats. The lake was cold, some girl chatted his ear off on the left and a small boy, good lord was he really eleven?, tucked his too large cloak around him and nodded gravely along with whatever Achilles said. Hades couldn't be bothered to pay them any attention. Instead, he watched as the castle drew closer, the waves lapping against the boat in small sinister waves.

He didn't hear the words the teacher that greeted them spoke either. He knew how the sorting went. Lord knew Kronos told the story of his sorting often enough—"Hat didn't even need to touch my head to know I was a true Slytherin". Then the Great Hall doors were open, the bright light of a thousand sparkling candles beaming like daggers right in Hades' soul as they were marched forward.

Hades wondered if it was too late to make a run for it.

It was, apparently, as Achilles excitedly grabbed him by the arm, hauling him forward.

"There's Patroclus, over there! And look, Hercules and Theseus!"

Hades' head spun, his senses overwhelmed. The lights were too much, the thick scent of wax and burning fire, magic buzzing across his skin—he was going to be sick. He wondered it if it would be appropriate to tell Achilles to shut the hell up. That was a Slytherin thing to do, wasn't it?

Achilles' fingers dug into his arm.

"That's me, that's me," he gasped excitedly. Hades hadn't even heard his name being called but Achilles turned painfully bright eyes on him.

"I'm going to be Gryffindor," he said confidently, slapping Hades' on the shoulder. "Hope you are too mate, see you!"

Hades watched, fully aware for the first time since the sorting began (five minutes ago, five hours, he couldn't tell), transfixed as the boy proudly made his way up to the front of the hall. The sorting hat was nothing impressive, a raggedy old wizarding hat on an equally antiquated stool. Achilles' steps never faltered as he approached and, with his head held high, took a seat. A faceless professor lowered the hat on his curly head. Hades didn't have time to hold his breath as the hat shouted:

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Hades closed his eyes, feeling as though the hat had personally stabbed him. Any hope he may have had disappeared, leaving Hades bone tired and defeated. Achilles knew he was going to be Gryffindor and he was right. There was no hope for Hades. He would face his fate with the dignity befitting an Olympian, Hades firmly decided, fingers digging into his palm as he stared fixedly at the floor. He was strong, made of stone, an iron statue; he would make his mother proud, bring honor to his family's tarnished name—

"Hades Olympian."

Dignity, grace, honor, Hades reminded himself firmly as he took careful, measured steps forward. Dignity, grace, honor. Dignity, grace, honor.

He looked over the sea of students, eyes fixed on the candles high above their heads as he took a seat on the stool. It didn't matter if anyone recognized his name—Kronos Olympian, you have been found guilty of dark magic, traitor to the wizarding community, we sentence you to—dignity, grace, honor, Mother, Hestia, dignity, grace—

Years later, Hades learned that the hat sometimes talked to people, had actual conversations with some students, muttered little observations to others. It didn't grace Hades with any warning of what was about to happen, simply opening its crooked mouth to cry:

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

A/n Surprise I'm alive and back with another crossover! Part 1 of probably 5 maybe 6. It was supposed to only be a one-shot but that's the story of my life. Logistical issues: the timeline is after Voldemort left Hogwarts but before he rose to power and I gave up checking Pottermore for every little detail a forever ago so all you die hard Potterheads will forgive me for any time-related mistakes. I can't be bothered to always look up what professors were around then or what books and I frankly don't care anymore. I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoy reading it.

Shout out to the amazing rhig122 for betaing for me.

Let me know what you thought and I hope you enjoyed ~ *