Disclaimer: If you recognise it, it isn't mine.
In Albus's own opinion the feast had been rather splendid: no unexpected sortings, a lovely rendition of the Hogwarts' song, and – the cherry on the cake – his specially commissioned year-long supply of lemon drops had arrived just in time for the new term.
It was a pity that the rest of the staff or the student body didn't share his proclivity towards the hard boiled sweet, but neither the endless eye-rolls of Severus nor the clipped mutterings of dear Minerva would halt him in his crusade to spread the joy and happiness to his students through the medium of a citrus sweetie. He personally thought that they were the most valuable thing he could impart to his students, but he daren't voice this thought to his prickly deputy headmistress. He suspected that it wouldn't be received well. Probably because of her feline affliction.
"Albus."
"hmm?"
The aged headmaster looked up, a calm and complacent tone hiding his internal shock. He had not been caught off guard in his office for years, not since he'd put up the monitoring charm outside his door. A quick, sweeping survey of the room did not allude to anything wrong, so where had that mysterious voice called from?
"Oh for Merlin's sake – Albus - do you seriously not recognise my voice?"
It was true... Albus mused. The voice did indeed hold a certain familiarity to it, but he could be imagining it. His pale blue eyes flickered around, still on guard, as he attempted to source the intruder. It would be best not to alert the imposter to his confusion.
"Yes, yes, I recognise you. Why – may I ask – do you hide yourself?"
There was a long, strangled sigh. Albus glanced around once more, hopeful that the noise would point out the location of the speaker.
"Albus. Look. Up."
Bewildered but compliant with the mysterious instructions, the headmaster rested his eyes upon the opposite shelf – directly across from his desk – before his gaze caught on a peculiarly miffed looking hat.
"Ah, my boy, what has you so troubled?" He asked jovially, pleased to have finally solved the identity of the elusive voice.
"Albus – I can't... and I AM NOT YOUR BOY, HEADMASTER. DO I LOOK LIKE A STUDENT? Albus – by Morgana, I am older than you! How long have I lived here? Are you so senile, old man, that you have forgotten me?"
Albus peered at the frustrated hat through his half–moon spectacles and put on his best disapproving face.
"Now-now, there is no need to shout, my boy, I am not deaf yet!"
The wrinkled headmaster chuckled to himself at that. The tatty hat silently wondered how difficult it would be to hide poison amongst those insufferable lemon drops.
"Albus, please, I have a serious issue that I need to discuss with you."
"Well, my boy, I am all ears."
The sorting hat started to reply before he was interrupted by a loud guffawing from the headmaster. It appeared that the mere mention of 'ears' reminded him of his deaf joke. If it could even be called a joke at that. It was the sorting hat's own suspicion that excessive lemon drop consumption had disturbed Dumbledore's mind, and – apparently – thrown his sense of humour off kilter.
Finally the deep chuckling trailed off. Now the hat could get to the matter at hand, if only he could keep the headmaster from getting distracted.
"There is a disturbing problem that I have encountered today, Albus. It troubles me dearly, and I implore you to remedy it as soon as you can-"
"Is it about Harry?"
The headmaster cut in abruptly, suddenly serious. The hat would have blinked if it possessed eyelids. Alas, it did not, and so instead scrunched up the old gnarled leather so it's face resembled something akin to a frown.
"What? No – this is completely different-"
"You remember that you can't tell me what you learnt about the students through their sorting, my boy,"
"A-Albus! Stop interrupting me!"
The headmaster once again adopted his disapproving mask at the hat's spluttered outburst. Perhaps it was getting old and becoming defected?
"Don't look it me like that! I know you well enough to be able to tell what you are thinking. Please let me explain?"
"Very well then. But know that if-"
"Yes – yes – no revealing private details about students. This is my job, you know. You needn't remind me."
Albus tilted his head slightly and made sure his eyes were twinkling.
"Oh for the love of Merlin! Fine – I will waste no more time and just air my grievances now. As I was saying before, there is a dreadful problem with the new students."
The hat paused to make certain that he had Dumbledore's full attention. And for dramatic effect. He led a very boring life, after all.
"They have nits, Albus."
"Nits?"
"Nits." The hat confirmed, infusing as much gravitas into his voice as possible.
"Oh dear. I can see how that is a problem. Worry not, my boy, for I will make sure Poppy will perform an inspection as soon-"
"I DO NOT CARE ABOUT THE STUDENTS, ALBUS!" The sorting hat bellowed, frayed and scratched scraps of leather flapping as it bristled with ire. This man would be the death of him. A mad, demented, old codger would do to him what numerous creatures and dark lords and time could not. Not that the hat had been specifically targeted over the years, but still, he was certain that the unbearably twinkling headmaster would be the end of his animated days.
"Albus. Please. I can – feel – the critters clambering – inside – me. The cretins are making me their home, trampling and chewing and wrecking havoc onto me! I will soon become a hive for their spawn, infested with their ugly pestilent bodies, and will you stop laughing at me!"
"I a-apologise, my – my boy," the headmaster managed to get these words out in between deep breaths, and quickly schooled his expression into one of concern. He ignored the mutterings of the hat as it complained about the headmaster's stubbornness to use the hat's name, and waited for the sorter to refocus back on him.
After a short while, the hat's vociferous cursing ceased, and Albus spoke up.
"What would you have me do then, my dear boy?"
The headmaster became slightly alarmed when the hat seemed to puff up and ready itself for another tirade against his character, but as quickly as this threat emerged it left, and the hat seemingly deflated.
"Albus. I am simply an animated object. I may be infinitely wise," Albus twinkled, "unfathomably old," the headmaster twinkled more brightly, "and ESSENTIAL TO THE RUNNING OF THE SCHOOL, but I am what I am, and I have no magic of my own. I humbly request that you perform a cleaning charm on me, or an exterminating charm, or whatever it is you can do with that silly little twig that will rid me of my...infection."
"Do you not think that this is an overreaction, my boy? I'm sure that if you wait long enou-"
"ALBUS. PLEASE!"
Dumbledore leant back in his chair, hands clasped together, and put on his best grandfatherly face.
"I'm afraid, and please understand, that any magic I may cast upon you will interfere with the enchantments-" "-Don't. DON'T DO THIS YOU OLD, SENILE-" "placed onto you by the founders."
The headmaster's twinkle was now at a full blaze, as an inhuman shriek erupted from the lips of the sorting hat. Albus offhandedly threw up a one-way silencing charm with an unnoticeable flick of his wand, and watched, amused, as the hat floundered about in it's place.
Maybe the hat was past it's time? Should it go into retirement? Albus appraised the hat behind the safety of the silencing charm. It was a little shabby, but that couldn't be helped – not everyone possessed the same great fashion sense that he himself had. Perhaps all it needed was a new look, to regain it's confidence? Yes, that must be what was needed - the hat was only just now broadcasting it's insecurities!
Albus beamed broadly, believing he had solved the problem. He quickly conjured up a bright fluorescent pink and purple scarf, and levitated it over to the hat in such a manner that it was wrapped around the brim. Perfect.
Seeing now that the hat's 'lips' were closed and it was no longer yelling, in obvious awe and gratification of the headmaster's insight, Albus wasted no time to remove the silencing charm and waited for the outpouring of thanks that would surely follow.
Elsewhere in the castle, students and teaching staff alike jumped in startled shock as a terrific rumbling resonated throughout the stone walls of the school. The miniature earthquake would go down in history as unexplained, everyone having their own explanation for such an event. Snape would roll his eyes and sneer at his godson when later asked, for it was obviously the castle showing it's distress for housing a Potter once more, and Draco would nod whilst secretly believing that it was a hidden dragon stirring within the bowels of the dungeons.
Many of the current student population shared the same belief about what caused the occurrence, and so it was only a surprise to few when McGonagall dragged the Weasley twins out of bed the following morning by the ears and frogmarched them down to her office. When Ronald heard about this, he was stuck between admiration for his brothers' actions and his own lingering belief that it was one of his mother's howlers.
Harry Potter personally held the opinion that it was Hagrid sneezing in a particularly acoustic hall, which Hermione, upon hearing the explanation, dismissed this and stated that it was simply the castle settling down, like old muggle houses did.
In fact, the only human that truly knew what happened was the headmaster himself, who could only watch in disbelief as the Hogwarts' very own sorting hat ripped itself from the wards of the school in an unprecedented display of will-power. The magical backlash was sent throughout the school in a shockwave, later named the "Hogwarts' earthquake of '91", and preceded the lesser well known "Sorting Hat strike of '91".
Albus was released from his stupor when the hat decided to explain it's actions.
"I'm on strike, Albus."
"You can't be on strike, my boy, you were created-"
"-I have no duty to the school now. I can go on vacation. I can find a nice tailor wizard to cure me of the ailment that you refused to help with. You must help me now, headmaster, or Hogwarts will have lost it's sorting hat. And don't think you can replace me with a sorting dishcloth or whatnot, Albus! I know that twinkle!"
Dumbledore sighed heavily. Weren't meddlesome dark lords enough? Must he put up with petulant clothing also? The talking-back robes were bad enough; the headmaster to this day was very insecure about his apparently flabby buttocks.
"Be a good boy now-"
"-Not. A. Dog-"
"-and reinsert yourself into the wards. There is nothing to be ashamed of – you are aware that these - nits – will die off in no time at all?"
"That is not the point! I want to be clean now. The bugs shouldn't take too long to perish – believe me when I say that Malfoy's hair gel has probably drowned half of them already – but the issue here is that I will have to live for weeks with these squirming critters! I want them out!"
Whatever the headmaster was to reply to this demand was lost when Fawkes entered the office in a flash of flames, flapping about in the air for a beat of a second before landing on his perch. At this new and unexpected arrival, the sorting hat visibly perked up and cried out.
"Fawkes! My loyal friend! Will you join me in my strike against the school and it's backward ways? We can form a union together, and...and I can demand better bird food on your behalf!"
Fawkes eyed the hat warily, and trilled out an affronted denial, before regarding the headmaster with an inquisitive expression. Dumbledore sighed and quickly explained to the phoenix about the hat's current predicament. The bird nodded in understanding, before immediately taking off from his perch and grasping the hat in his talons.
The sorting hat cried out in shock before it disappeared in a fireball along with the phoenix, the stylish conjured scarf left behind. Albus hummed in his seat before reaching for another lemon drop.
Minutes later, a prideful and smug Fawkes flew in through an open window and dropped a very soggy hat onto the headmaster's desk. Albus merely raised an eyebrow, and cast a quick diagnostic spell on the hat.
"Ah, there are no more 'nits' of any kind. Well done, Fawkes."
The bird trilled happily at that, satisfied that all was well once more.
The sorting hat merely mumbled catatonically about adding a giant squid to it's list of creatures and dark lords out to get it.
A/N So that was my first ever fanfic. After lurking for many, many, years on this site I finally managed to actually contribute. Any comments/reviews will be appreciated!