The year after the war, the sorting hat was feeling a little miffed: its warnings of the previous years had not been heeded, and this had let to it being rather singed. And to it having to summon the sword again, which nobody had considered was a rather uncomfortable process for a hat half the length of the blade. Anyway, when the new year after the battle rolled around, and it was required to sort the rather large group of first years (many not being able to attend under the rule of the unlamented Dark Lord), it was not in its best of moods. This resulted in a rather less cheery song than normal:

Come little children,

Come one and all,

Come put me on

In Scotland's Fairest Hall.

Don't look so frightened,

Don't look so scared,

It's only to me,

You'll have your souls bared.

For I am the sorting Hat,

Yanked off Gryffindor's head,

Dividing his school,

Matching you to your bed.

I should now tell you,

Of the founders four,

And their vision,

Of how to teach more.

The Founders were a fractious bunch,

They argued day and night,

For whilst on lessons they all agreed,

Who to teach, was a fight.

Gryffindor and Slytherin,

Ravenclaw too,

Said They would teach a student,

Showing characteristics few,

Gryffindor wanted,

The brave and the bold,

So now the foolhardy

Dress in red and gold,

Ravenclaw desired,

The quick and the smart

Now bronze and blue,

Make condescension an art.

Slytherin valued,

The cunning, pure, and keen,

But now bigotry shadows,

Those in silver and green.

Hufflepuff however,

Said, "I'll teach every one,"

But now yellow and black,

Are Forgotten.

So listen well you children,

Listen one and all,

For though you must take a house,

Divided you may fall.

Every house has strengths to boast,

But all have faults to heal,

So, for once, for goodness sake,

Listen before your meal.

Both you and your rivals,

Have weaknesses you see,

So help shore up their faults,

And much happier you'll be.

And if you could see your way,

Into having no more war,

I'd be grateful, for you see,

Being burned has made me sore.

The applause was rather more muted than usual, and one very small first year tried to escape and had to be grabbed by a rather confused professor Sinistra. (The new deputy head, as she had little daytime duties normally.) Hermione Granger, the only one of the trio to return to school, sent a verbatim record to her Friends. Harry laughed himself off the chair. The song led to no real changes, except things were a little more cordial between the Houses. It did stop reprisals against the young Slytherins though, which made Headmistress Mcgonagall so grateful she had the hat reupholstered in dragonhide (To make it less flammable).

Written for the 170 prompts challenge, specifically prompts Poem and Houses.