Disclaimer: I don't own Angel the Series, or Harry Potter

For the Illyria and Sorting Hat Fic For All on Twisting the Hellmouth

What Is The Purpose Of This Hat?

By Alkeni

Illyria cocked her head to one side and looked across the desk at the elderly human sitting down behind it. His beard was improbably long, and his appearance seemed akin to the shell's memories of fictional 'wizards' – Merlin, and Gandalf.

"You divide your successors into competing groups to ensure that only the most capable make it to maturity, the weak left behind. Are they killed, or merely used as chattel?"

That last battle, in the alley behind the Hyperion Hotel had ended badly for the rest – for Angel, for her pet Spike, for Gunn. Only she had lived, her capacity to endure injury far beyond anything the rest could take.

With nothing left for her in that world, Illyria had taken to traveling the dimensions. In almost all, humanity reigned over the world – she had yet to find one where her kind still held their proper place of dominance over the muck that once gathered at their feet.

The elderly human shook his head at her words, disagreeing with her statement and her question. "Not precisely. The dividing of students into their houses is as much about grouping students of similar mindsets together as it is creating any sort of competitive environment. And I rather think that the competition between the houses is excessive as it is. I'd hardly want to promote even more."

Illyria straightened her head, still looking at the human. "And what is the purpose of this hat that you spoke of? What use could such headgear have? It is of inferior manufacture and quality."

The hat, which rested on a shelf behind the human, suddenly moved of its own accord, a mouth opening on it, a voice coming out. "Well, that's hardly nice. And you're not looking to be of perfect condition yourself, 'God-King'."

Illyria looked at the elderly man. "The hat speaks."

The human shrugged expressively, his hands moving along with the rest of his arms. "It's the Sorting Hat. It does that."

"I am right here." The hat reproached Illyria. "And I have to say, I can sort you into Slytherin all the way from here. You make young Mr. Malfoy seem modest."

"Have you attempted to insult me?" Illyria still did not grasp human insults very well and they never caused her offense – except in that any human might think she cared about their insults in the first place.

"Not exactly. Do you find ambition to be a bad thing? For you have it in spades." The hat replied.

"Ambition is as neutral a concept as betrayal, or water."

"Definitely a Slytherin."

Illyria turned from the hat to the elderly human again. "I believe this hat is attempting to insult me, still."

"Being a Slytherin is not a bad thing in of itself, although recent years have seen the name of the house tainted by Voldemort and his followers. But yes, the hat is not very fond of you. You did call it's quality into question.

Illyria did not know the name of which this human spoke, but did not care. "This hat's opinion of me weighs less than sunlight. I grow bored." Illyria turned from the desk and waved her hand, a portal opening before her. Like all the others she had opened at random, she did not know to where it lead, but neither did she care.

She stepped through it, leaving a chuckling hat behind her.