[ if only luke knew that those words were reflective of the shitstorm he had been at the centre of, spurring it on by being deaf and blind and stupid to all around him, cradled beneath the thumb of a titan who cared very little. it's how he'd describe the gods — with their heads shoved right up their own asses. it's difficult to bite it down, condemning the gods, but considering he has a feeling jason has already sunk his lightning bolts into hermione, he would've talked the gods up real good. ]

[ luke's brows rise. the magical hat that reads our minds and tells us where we belong. whether he finds it strange — or completely and utterly strange, as there's no other option but to find it weird — is quite apparent on his face. ] I think I'd prefer a magical hat that sings than be sorted by parentage. [hermes' son and proud? nah. ] So, you're a … Gryffindor. [ he frowns. despite knowing greek and other odd words, it still sounds just that — odd. he smiles, possibly in an effort to tease her, or have the brightest witch of her age deny that she is anything but what he's going to bluntly assume. ] Sounds like you know how to live on the wild side, then.