Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine in any way, shape or form (except for the five books I own). All rights belong to J.K. Rowling; I'm merely playing around for my own amusement. Enjoy!

A Sorting Gone Terribly Wrong

by Myuu-Foxgirl

Draco Malfoy was not having a good day. No, he'd never been the morning sort, but he'd been forced to wake up at the crack of dawn to get ready to go to Hogwarts. He sneered. And as if that weren't enough, he'd been ready to leave by eight A.M., but of course his mother and father hadn't let him do anything entertaining while he sat, bored out of his bloody mind, waiting for the time he could leave to board the Hogwarts Express. But nooo, the Gods hadn't stopped playing with him there. Oh no. He'd learned that the scrawny boy with glasses he had met in Madam Malkin's' robe shop was none other than the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry-bloody-Potter. Well, Draco was fairly certain that Potter's middle name wasn't "bloody," but at the moment he scarcely cared. No, somehow he'd managed to get on Potter's badside, and he honestly couldn't figure out how. And as if that weren't enough, it had been raining horrendously upon arrival in Hogsmeade, and Crabbe had nearly knocked him from the boat on the way across the lake.

So now Draco was standing stiffly in line, his arms folded as he gave the patented Malfoy glare to anyone who even so much as sniffed in his direction. Nevermind the fact that the reasons he was put out were rather childish; to an eleven year old boy's mind, he had every right to be annoyed. He didn't pay any attention when the Hat sang it's song, and the next time he actually payed any attention to what was going on, that Muggle-born, Granger, had the Sorting Hat on her head. He rolled his eyes with a huff, and thought back to that morning when his father had repeated, for what seemed like the billionth time, that he'd better get into Slytherin, "or else." Now, Draco, being the eleven year old he was, felt that his father didn't trust him. And the thought that his father didn't trust him stung his pride. And everyone knows that a boy with stung pride is not to be messed with. (This knowledge is common; however, so few people follow it. Rather makes one wonder why people heed the "Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned" one. Draco decided to chew that over at some later date.)

"Malfoy, Draco."

Draco lifted his chin, unfolded his arms, and strode over to the stool. He sat down, and allowed the Hat to be placed on his head.

"Hmm," he heard the Hat say, and nearly jumped out of his skin. "Now, no need to be frightened of me. I think you'd fit wonderfully in Slytherin."

Oh, yes, do place me there! Draco thought happily.
"So you want to be in Slytherin, hmm? What do you say, Peeves?"

"Sort him somewhere else, of course," the mysterious "Peeves" answered.

"Of course. But where, oh where?" the Hat wondered.

Peeves cackled, and Draco had a sudden flash of "Oh bloody hell," before Peeves answered, "Well, if he wants in Slytherin so badly, put him with the other side!"

"Are you certain, Peeves? You know that once the boy is Sorted I cannot reSort him."

"Do you want to have a little fun for once or not?" Peeves replied, and Draco would later swear by any holy book that the Hat stiffened.

"You're a very bad influence on me, you know," it sighed, and Peeves cackled again.

"I prefer to think of myself as a good influence."

"Of course you would. But.. Oh, very well. But if Albus or the boy's father burn me to ashes, I'm taking you down with me, Peeves!"

"Scouts honor, then!" Peeves replied cheerfully. Too cheerfully, and suddenly Draco realized with a sinking feeling what the Hat and "Peeves" were planning.

His eyes widened as he desperately thought, You can't place me there!

Peeves just cackled, and Draco got a distinct feeling of amusement from the Hat. "Well, that settles that," the Hat said, sounding extraordinarily pleased with itself. "I've decided on.. GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco had the sinking feeling that, as the Hat was removed from his head, he was exceedingly pale and shocky. Several worried looks cast at him by various teachers as he got off the stool confirmed his suspicions as he shakily made his way towards the Gryffindor table. Someone, he recognized it as a Weasley, moved over to make room for him as he sat on the bench. He let his head thunk onto the table with a groan, the only thoughts in his head being, What will Father say? alternating with Father is going to kill me. And I'll die cheerful!

He paid little attention as Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, and then another Weasley as well. He was only hoping that this was all some horrible dream, and that he'd wake up safe and sound in his bed in Malfoy Manor. Unfortunately, the pain that shot through him each time he allowed his head to land with a thump on the table wouldn't allow him to believe, even for a split second, that it was a dream. Also unfortunately, all the Slytherins were giving him very nasty looks. As if he'd been trying to get Sorted into Gryffindor! He swallowed back the hysteria rapidly rising in his throat, trying to contain it before he burst into tears in front of everyone in the hall. And that, he knew, would Not Be Good. Desperately, he let his head fall to the table again, and squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to block everything out. He was certain he'd just heard Dumbledore's speech when a hand fell on his shoulder, and he realized that the Great Hall was clearing out.

Draco looked up into the face of Percy Weasley, a Gryffindor Prefect. "Come on," Weasley said in a rather stuffy manner that Draco found amusing in a slightly hysterical fashion. "I'm supposed to escort you first years to the dorms."

Draco had a feeling that Weasley thought highly of himself, but somehow could not dredge up the coherency of thought to insult him. He slowly got to his feet, and was about to follow Weasley when, for the second time in just over as many minutes, a hand fell on his shoulder. The owner spoke, and Draco realized that it was just the Headmaster. "Go on, Percy," Dumbledore said. "I'd like to have a chat with Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, sir," Percy agreed, then turned and strode out. Dumbledore herded Draco out of the Great Hall and through the halls, finally stopping in front of a large stone gargoyle. He muttered the name of some candy or other - Draco didn't fully catch the name - and proceeded to herd the boy through the opening and up the stairs to his office. He made Draco sit down in an overly large chair and gave him a glass of water. Draco sipped at it mindlessly while Dumbledore disappeared into the room next door for a moment, then came back with the Hat in hand. Dumbledore set the Hat down on his desk, then sat in the large chair behind it. He cleared his throat, then tapped the Hat with his wand. "Please explain this."

"Hrm, must I?" the Hat asked in response.

"Yes, you must. Because, quite frankly, none of us were expecting Mr. Malfoy to be Sorted into Gryffindor." Dumbledore looked sternly at the black hat that had long ago been Godric Gryffindor's.

"Ah, that," the hat hemmed and hawed for a moment. "Well, I've been rather bored lately, you know, so I decided to do something about it."

"With my help," cackled a new voice, and Draco turned to face it, then immediately dropped his goblet of water upon seeing the ghost floating a few inches off the floor, rubbing his hands together and cackling gleefully.

"Why," Dumbledore asked, although it was obviously a rhetorical question, "did I know you would be mixed in somewhere, Peeves?"

"Because he can't keep himself out of trouble," the Hat responded dryly. and Peeves shot it a dirty look. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Peeves! It's quite true, and don't you deny it."
Peeves blew a raspberry at the Hat while Dumbledore cleaned Draco's dropped goblet up. "Now then," Dumbledore murmured, "whatever shall we do?"

"Well, I can't reSort the boy, Albus," the Hat responded. "It simply isn't in me to do so. However, I do believe Peeves and I shall take the blame for it from his father, as the lad was wishing quite strenuously to be Sorted into Slytherin."

"Very well," the Headmaster sighed, then turned to Draco. "I'll explain everything to your father, Draco."

"T-thank you, sir," Draco replied quietly. Then after a moment, he added, "Can I burn the Hat, please?"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore answered, eyes twinkling merrily. The door opened just then, admitting Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall.

"Albus, what in Merlin's name is going on?" McGonagall asked, adjusting her glasses.

"I believe life has been boring for the Hat, so it and Peeves decided to have a little fun."

"Merlin," Snape muttered.

"Yes, indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "Now, Minerva, please escort Mr. Malfoy to the Gryffindor dorms. Severus, stay and help me explain the circumstances to his father."

Both nodded, and McGonagall ushered Draco, who, once again, had his arms folded and was pouting (nevermind that he labeled it quite clearly as sulking, as boys do not pout), towards the Gryffindor common room entrance.
"The password is Caput Draconis, and don't you forget it," McGonagall told him, and he scrambled through the doorway. The portrait swung closed, and Draco bonelessly slid into one of the chairs scattered around the common room. The day had been long and tiring, and he only hoped the next would be better.

So long as Father doesn't kill me for this, I'll be just dandy, he decided as he drifted off. He never noticed when Potter snuck downstairs and then carried him up to the dorm room. He never noticed when Longbottom's toad decided that is head made an interesting perch, either.

Back in his office, Albus Dumbledore chuckled. "This is sure to be an interesting year!"

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::snickers:: Well.. There's that XD I started this several months ago, and only just now finished it after rereading the amount I had. (And because the internet's down and I was reading a very nice fic.. and I have veerrry few games on my computer. So, to put it succintly, I was bored. XD) I get the rather distinct feeling that the humor is slightly.. off, but then again, at least it's not all sex jokes. Not that an eleven year old would have many of those, but then again... ::rofl:: Who knows, eh?

Before anyone asks, I am well aware that Draco's is the only Sorting I messed around with. Mostly because I've seen fics where Harry gets Sorted into Slytherin, or even Ravenclaw, but never one where Draco is Sorted into anything but Slytherin. Soooo I decided to write one where he got Sorted into Gryffindor. And besides, the Hat has to be getting bored, doing nothing but singing a song every year and then Sorting the "ickle firsties." This also strikes me as something Peeves would jump at the chance to do. Just because I like him XD

I may or may not write some follow-ups to this.. depends on how many of you want one! :-D After all, I could play around with other Sortings, too... Bwahahahaha!

--Myuu