The doors of the great hall flew open, to the amazement of all the students. A stylish hat was carried upon a velvet pillow by the clumsy professor Willikers. Their eyes fixated on the hat and its emerald glow. When Wilikers reached the podium the head master rose from his seat. Gripping his thin fingers around the edges of the podium his grin broadened. Looking the room over he took delight in holding their fragile attention so easily. Clearing his throat he began his explanation.
"From this year on, we'll be doing things a bit differently. This hat has been enchanted in a most unique way. For it is clairvoyant in the ways of each wizard's potential, and ultimately in which house one might be able to hone their individual gifts. Each new student must be sorted accordingly upon arrival to Hogwarts. And without further Delay…" He tapped his wand on the tip of the hat and it became sentient. "Pear Abbington, please have a seat." Head master Hanson lifted the hat off of its pillow and lowered it onto the quivering child's scalp.
"Ravenclaw!" it cheered aloud. The entire hall gasped at the animated hat. The novelty wore off half way into the C's.
"Albus Dumbledore! Have a seat." He dusted off the stool. "Have a seat." The young wizard obliged. The hat took its time with this one. To this day no one can exactly recall what the hat muttered to itself as it weighed each option accordingly. All except for Dumbledore himself…
*Insert Harry Potter Score Here to indicate the passing of time*
Dumbledore popped the cork with a wide grin. It was the first night of another year of teaching at Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. While the first years nervously rolled about in their fresh seats, the teachers began to drink like tomorrow would never come.
"Albus, I got a good feelin' about dis batch!" Hagrid meowed to the head master. Albus returned a warm smile to his dearest friend. The usually quiet and empty head master office was brimming with wet beards and low cut gowns. As the muggles might say, 'the joint be jumpin.' As the night wore on many instructors passed out on the cobble stone floor and professor Flitwick ended up getting some. Roughly an hour before dawn, only the heads of house and Dumbledore lay awake. They lay sprawled out on their wizard sleeping bags in the middle of the room.
"Hey Severus? " Dumbledore whispered, rolling onto his tummy.
"What?" The potions master answered as morose as usual.
"Whatcha thinkin?" The old wizard swayed his feet back and forth through the air, bobbing a single slipper playfully.
"If you must know, I was wondering about the latest group of first years. Do you believe the sorting hat to be the most precise method of determining which house is best for the children?"
"Why Severus, I've never thought of it like that. I mean the hats been around as long as I've been…"
"What do you purpose Severus?" McGonagall interjected.
"Perhaps we might open a Quizilla account, with their magic we could set up a series of hypothetical situations with four different responses. Based on the character traits the student exhibits we will then place them in the appropriate house." This made sense to the other heads of house, yet Dumbledore remained nostalgic. The Sorting Hat was a staple of Hogwarts, almost as iconic as the great lake, or forbidden forest.
"Perhaps a trial run might be necessary? We could test a group of students from three different years and see how the Quizilla and Hat both decide on the house's they already reside in."
"Sounds like a plan, Headmaster." Snape jeered as he put his arm around Dumbledore's shoulder.
"Nighty night Severus" he chuckled.
"Sleep well." The potions master hissed.
"Fags" McGonagall snorted as she staggered out the room.