A/N: Written for the comment_fic prompt Supernatural/Harry Potter, Dean + any, Being extremely loyal to his friend and family, Dean is sorted into Hufflepuff... Hogwarts has never seen a Hufflepuff quite like him. (I tried for humorous yet not crack. Hopefully I succeeded, because I can see Dean potentially doing all these things)
Being extremely loyal to his friends and family, Dean is sorted into Hufflepuff. It's a completely logical progression, had anyone else spotted the first half besides the Sorting Hat. Unfortunately, they don't. Especially Dean Winchester. What? he thinks furiously at the Hat, don't put me there. Put me in Gryffindor.
But you are a Hufflepuff through and through, Mr. Winchester, the Hat thinks back.
Language, Mr. Winchester.
My dad says it all the time. I can say it too. And you can put me where I belong. In Gryffindor.
That is not so.
What do you know, you're a hat! Winchesters have always been in Gryffindor.
I know quite a bit more about sorting than yourself, little wizard. Now you're going to Hufflepuff. I generally like having the student agree with my choice, but if necessary I'll shout it to the entire hall whether you agree or not, and then you're stuck there.
You wouldn't dare.
OKAY! Okay, stop. What do I have to say to get you to put me in Gryffindor?
My my, Mr. Winchester. Trying to bargain your way out with cunning. How Slytherin.
Oh, you wouldn't dare.
Wouldn't I? You know, given a longer time to examine your head, I'm thinking perhaps I was mistaken. Maybe Slytherin would be a better place for you than –
Jesus Christ, anything but Slytherin.
I knew you'd come around. I have reconsidered yet again. The best place for you really is in "HUFFLEPUFF!"
Hogwarts has never seen a Hufflepuff quite like him. For one, he's an American. The wizarding world, being intensely secular and the English isles especially so, rarely sees foreigners. "I didn't even know they had wizards over there!" hisses one shocked pureblood to another. Dean, in perfect earshot, rolls his eyes and pokes suspiciously at what they call breakfast food.
Second, he's belligerent, which in and of itself isn't strange. All children are belligerent. Yet Dean is in such a noisy, inconvenient, and frankly un-Hufflepuff like manner that it raises eyebrows. Normally children from that house will be confrontational in an almost friendly way, like it's nothing personal but they really think this is an idiotic idea and would appreciate working together to come up with a solution that would solve everybody's needs, and quite possibly makes things better even for those not involved in the decision making. Then they will smile and proceed to do so with such dedicated conviction that one can't help but join in.
Dean is not like this at all. He stands his ground and crosses his arms, making it perfectly clear that (in his words, said for the first and last time no matter how he tries to argue for quoting muggle film classics) frankly he doesn't give a damn. He doesn't stand diplomacy any more than he does idiocy, and most of his confrontations end with a flurry of fellow Hufflepuffs dividing into two cooperating factions – one to drag Dean away, the other to apologize profusely and then, in their unassuming smiling way, offer to help find a solution to whatever had been so wrong to rile up their housemate. Unsurprisingly, Dean has also managed to break the long-running record of years spent without a House member getting into a fight single-handedly – and repeatedly.
Then there are the experiments. Dean is a hardworking boy, like all the other Hufflepuffs. But he hardworking at things other than his studies. Charming girls so he can kiss them, for example (the teachers despair when Dean's old enough to think about what comes after that) , or challenging the house elves to make him the strangest-looking yet tastiest magical foods. Nobody would be concerned if it weren't for Dean's more dangerous experiments dealing with the interaction of magic and electricity. Anybody within hearing range of Dean's attempt to cross-engineer a magical radio and a muggle 'boom box' still wince at the mention of it.
For the most part, the children have come to consider him as some sort of abnormal truism exempt from fundamental assumptions of Hogwarts. It's easier on the students in the years below Dean because they have never known a Hogwarts without him, but the later years learn to adapt or ignore quickly as well. And the teachers – well, they just thank their lucky stars they've managed to get halfway through this oddity's instruction.
(Dean hasn't had the heart to inform them Sammy's recently shown accidental magic and is expecting a letter in the mail this summer.)