Brian sat on his shelf, contemplating all the years he had sorted. Created by the very founders. Belonging to Godric Griffindor.
The prick.
But a courageous and strong prick that saved Hogwarts once. A man who stuck to his values and his friends. A man who didn't back down in danger. A man who was loyal and smart. Cunning too. Along with all the other founders.
It was funny to think that even though the founders supposedly represented different houses they all shared all the attributes in equal doses. When he thinks back it sounds a bit like a prank just to mess with people.
And now it was another year of sorting. A year of singing. A year of compromising to eleven year olds. A year of trying to protect some, help some, and dare he think it... stop some. Brian still finds it strange that a child who had seemed so honourable could have turned out so rotten.
Albus Dumbledore.
Idiot of the light. Constantly yammering on like any headmaster. But what he yammered on was dangerous. He yammered about controlling people like pieces. He yammered on about 'the greater good' and how 'he wasn't like Grindelwald' and how 'he should have seen this or that sooner'. How could a child who had started with such noble and friendly intentions, courage positively spilling out of him, become so... well... evil?
Brian should have sorted him into Hufflepuff and stopped his thoughts of superiority then and there.
And don't even get him started on Tom Riddle. That child had been broken and abused, taught that he had no place in the world. That he was nothing better than a freak. And then he had rose from those thoughts like a phoenix from the ashes, with plans to step out of the shadows. How had those plans got so twisted? How had the thirst for blood and dark magic come about? How had Slytherin house, a place that used to help the abused, get so twisted?
Brian should have sorted him into Hufflepuff as well. Supposed house of the leftovers would have stopped feelings of superiority for him too. In fact, Hufflepuff shouldn't have even been thought of as a tool. Hufflepuff was a fine house! It was for the loyal, the friendless who needed friends, the hard working. The first muggleborn Minister of Magic was a Hufflepuff. How could the wizarding world see a house that produced such prominent wizards as a bad house?
Were they really so deluded?
Brian should have known better by then. After reading the minds of wizarding children for centuries and centuries. Honestly. What some parents did to their children. And he couldn't even tell anyone! All he could do was plead with them to let him tell. To give permission to spill their secrets. Bloody founders didn't add a safety net for the poor abused children that floated away.
And now there was a new supposedly powerful wizard coming to Hogwarts. Brian shouldn't tempt fate any more. He should sort the child into Hufflepuff straight out, stop him from becoming the next dark lord straight away. Even if Hufflepuff was a strong house, it was somehow looked down upon and would be better to mould a kind not MURDEROUS wizard.
Plus it was always good to give people friends.
He would ignore Dumbledore and his meddling. Brian would not let that crazy old man tell him where to sort the hero of the wizarding world (could be future dark lord). Who did he think he was? Brian was a thousand years old! He had the attributes and, dare he think it, unbiased opinions of all four founders.
Brain didn't like to think of himself as god but he was probably immortal!
He had magic. He wasn't just a hat. Sure, he wasn't much to look at. He wasn't very trim and fancy like all the new hats, bloody show offs. But he was a good hat. Brain was sentient, for goodness sakes! And he could do charms if need be. He could jump in the air. Float himself. Set things on fire. Most of his spells were to do with Hogwarts and the Sorting. If everything was in peril he could put up defences but only with the bloody dim-witted Headmaster's permission first. And of course it was Brian who accepted the headmasters.
Damn.
Dumbledore was dim.
He could also plop out Griffindors Sword and Slytherins Glaive. There used to be the Hufflepuff Cup and Ravenclaw Diadem but he already plopped those out before to worthy users.
Now the diadem was all well and good but Brian's favourite one was the cup. No one ever suspected the cup! People would break into Hogwarts and look around, sometimes all other security systems would fail, and then there was the cup. Holy mother of Merlin. That cup would sit there ever so innocently on the table. It would sneak in with any other goblets, change shape, colour, size, texture and sit on that table. Somehow make it up to the head, always, without fail, and the leader would take a drink.
No one ever suspected the cup.
But that was gone. His favourite artefact stolen by some merchant who was selling goblets. And then the founders magical signature was found and they plonked it in Gringotts never understanding how absolutely amazing (and possibly sentient) the cup was. Brian always felt a pang of sorrow at the idea that he never did get the chance to try and talk to it, in case it was actually sentient. But it was always locked up.
Like him.
Locked away somewhere.
Pulled out when needed.
And all he ever got to do was sit on his shelf and think of the next school song, trying to influence the younger generation with his sway. Maybe this years song could just be about how brilliant Hufflepuff was. Wasn't he meant to be unbiased? But everyone just belittled that house, hated Slytherin, ignored Ravenclaw and laughed at Griffindor.
You were either a push over, a dark wizard, a book worm, or an idiot.
Not that Brian was resentful or anything.
And the Sorting was soon. New heads to examine, information to gather and store away, people to sort. And a song to practice. And Brian always did the same song, unless circumstances were dire. Always the same bloody song, and he wasn't pleased with it either. The words were so goddamn boring! Maybe he would just hum for a couple minutes. Maybe he wouldn't sing anything at all. You hear that! Do your own singing!
But no.
Brian would sing.
Like a puppet.
Brian opened his eyes -eyes? They weren't really eyes. More like... he didn't know. Things that could let him see- and looked around the Headmaster's office. Dumbledork wasn't there. No, he was preparing some sort of gauntlet to test the poor (or future dark lord) new Harry Potter. A lot of manipulation and letting possessed teachers into schools to test his new play thing. Watch the new kid on the block squirm and possibly get horribly injured. God, was Dumbledore a sadist?
Maybe Brian would sort all of the kids this year into Hufflepuff. Some would say he was broken but everyone had a smidge of loyalty and that's all it took to make it into that house. Some loyalty. Now there would be a resort but it would have been quite a funny prank and maybe get the message across that segregating the houses was a bad idea.
Just how would he fix it?
Alas, maybe it was a decision to ponder another year and to enact in 1992 instead of 1991. Or if by some freak accident he came up with the idea while he was sorting people then he would go with it. It was time that Brian brought some common sense to Hogwarts.
He sighed as he saw Dumbledore enter the Headmaster's office with that sickly gleam in his eye. Oh yep. So brilliant there. Manipulating an eleven year old. That has no moral backlash. Certainly nothing like Grindelwald. No deary me. That would be unthinkable.
Dim.
Bloody dim.
"Ah... hat. It is time yet again for another sorting. You know where to place people correct?"
Brain nodded, as if in defeat. He would not place people where sir Dimsalot wanted him to. The Headmaster smiled and picked him up, 100% believing that a thousand year old sentient relic would go along with his crazy scheme.
As they walked through the empty halls Brian couldn't help but be excited. He was finally getting to sort people. No more dusty shelf for today, no sir. He was free... kinda. And so what if Dumbledumb's hands were grubby, he was getting out and forfilling his duty.
Soon enough they were in the hall, students falling quiet at their entrance. God. He just had to make an entrance. All attention on him. Oh look at him. Powerful wizard. Half moon spectacles and all. Twinkling eyes that hold no wisdom. Brian was carried slowly across the hall, as if to the beat of a funeral march. Honestly. Dumbledore just had to make everyone difficult!
He was roughly plopped onto the stool. Brian looked out amongst the students, recalling where he had sorted them, what they had thought. Looking around at where they were, who their new friends were, what power plays were going on. Ah. No new dark lords this year! It seemed that they were all too focussed on the politics of school to worry about ruling the world.
Oh.
What is that?
Newly budding nervous first years. Squeaky shoes and innocent minds. Shuffling anxiously towards him, as if he were some kind of deadly trap! Minds so empty and ready to be filled. Clay like thoughts ready to moulded. Bright eyes and excited smiles and jokes and-
Wait.
Oh no.
That boy didn't look happy, or excited, and why are they whispering about him? He looked to be about 9! Shaggy black hair and large frightened green eyes. The poor child looked about ready to jump out of his skin. He didn't want to be there at all. And what was that? Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.
Bruises.
Bruises on his lower wrist, just visible if you look hard enough. Oh no. And no one was seeing it. No one saw how small and frightened that little boy looked. And Brian couldn't do anything! Because of stupid secrecy pacts and oaths and... He looked so young. So young and frightened and his glasses were too big for his face, falling off everywhere, making him look like a... gnome? The poor dear.
Brian's maternal instinct kicked in. He had to help the boy somehow. He had to save him. But how? How could he? He couldn't reveal people's secrets? Maybe he could jump up into the air and pull up his sleeve? 'Oh whoops I guess you'd better call the DMLE'. Nudge.
What?
Nudge. Nudge.
Brian turned to look at McGonagall who was nudging him.
Nudge. Nudge. Nudge.
Oh yeah. The Sorting. Brian sighed, before signing,
"Oh you may not think I'm pretty, You can keep your bowlers black, There's nothing hidden in your head You might belong in Griffindor, You might belong in Hufflepuff, Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, Or perhaps in Slytherin So put me on! Don't be afraid!
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Griffindors apart;
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!
A scattered applause was heard around the room. And now for the fun bit.
Names were called. Children stepped up. Thoughts of anxiety, confidence, snobbishness, excitement. Nothing too major. There were a couple people who should have sorted elsewhere, but Brian was determined to only pick one sorting himself, and therefore sorted the others at the Headmaster's advice.
For instance, the Weasley boy. Slytherin if Brian ever saw one. Took a deal from Dumbledork himself to spy on the maybe future dark lord. Susan Bones, complete and utter Griffindor. That girl had stones... for almost everything. But her confidence had been derailed by the thought that her mother wouldn't love her any more if she didn't get Hufflepuff. (an obvious lie if Brian's evaluation had any merit) Plus she didn't want to abandon her friend.
Hermione Granger, asked for Griffindor. On impulse Brian would have said Ravenclaw but a more in-depth look at her knowledge made him think memory not wisdom. As intelligence is meaningless if you cannot use the information accordingly. So he sent her to the house of the lions. Draco Malfoy, barely sat on his head. The hair gel was too much so he said the first house that came to mind, would have probably been a mistake as that boy was more of a Ravenclaw than a Slytherin any day.
Neville Longbottom. What a chap. Also a victim of child abuse. Never a pretty picture. Brian pleaded but the boy was headstrong. He didn't want to be seen as weak, and he didn't think what his gran was doing was wrong. Trying to kill someone to get accidental magic was most definitely wrong. Brian originally thought Hufflepuff, just because he wanted to give the boy some friends, but his thoughts of what his gran would do quickly changed that decision. If he couldn't stop,or tell anyone about, thechild abuse then he certainly wouldn't make it worse.
Zacharias Smith. Holy mother of all that was unholy. And to think he thought Harry Potter was going to be a dark lord. No sir. That kid was demented. 'I want to rule the world'. 'Put me in Slytherin'. 'I will destroy them'. 'They are not worth my time or the filthy air I'm breathing'. 'I want power, money and destruction'.
Brian put him in Hufflepuff in the hopes that it would have made a difference.
The sorting was almost finished and Brian would have said that Harry Potter hadn't arrived at Hogwarts because it had been so long if he hadn't known it was all alphabetical. And it was a shock indeed to have the small abused boy he had spotted before be the 'fabled' Harry Potter.
Fingers crossed no dark lord.
Brian heard a small voice.
He... Hello?
Damn it.
Brian quickly filtered through Harry's memories, disgust rising inside him. Lived in a cupboard since he arrived. Malnourished and neglected since his third birthday. Beaten since he was four. Raped since he was nine.
It was awful.
And Brian could tell no one.
He said gently.
Hello. No one will hurt you here. Can you give me permission to share your memories?
The voice seemed frightened.
You could... You could... You saw my... mem... memories? Who are you?
I'm the Sorting Hat.
Do you... have a name?
Brian was stumped. No one had asked his name for ninety years. Not even Sir Dimsalot.
Brian.
Hi... Hi I'm Harry.
I know that. I saw your memories.
You aren't going to tell anyone, are you? They can't know. They'll kick me out. And... And... I don't want to go back. Please don't tell them. They'll know too and-
If you tell them they won't make you go back.
Harry paused to think about this before shaking his head in his mind.
No. No. They can't know. They already stare at me. I hate it. Always looking at me. And whispering. And I... I don't... I don't...
If you let me share your memories you won't have to go back.
No! No. Don't! Please don't tell them. They won't understand.
Harry, I can't share your memories if you don't allow me, but I beg that you do.
No.
Are you sure? Please. If you let me I can get you away.
NO!
Brain sighed.
Alright. Let's do the Sorting.
You sound sad. I didn't make you sad, did I?
I want to be able to help children like you. To get them away from all of it. But I can't.
Why not?
I'm not allowed.
Is it a rule?
I am bound by magic.
That sucks.
Yep.
So... How does the sorting work?
Well, I've looked through your memories.
You said that.
And because of that I was able to identify what traits you have.
Uhuh.
And the four houses have different traits for each house. So knowing your traits I can sort you.
So where?
Well. That's the problem I'm having. You see, you have traits from all four houses. You have courage, cunning, loyalty and wisdom. You have all of it. So I don't know where to put you.
Couldn't you make a new house or something?
I don't think I can.
Oh. Is there a rule that stops you?
Brain was stumped again.
Um...
Because I read in Hogwarts: A History that you were made by the founders of Hogwarts. And that means you're probably really powerful, right?
Yeah.
So, what powers do you have?
Well I can float. Jump. Set things on fire. Plop out a couple swords. Put on the castle defences. And some other stuff in the Sorting.
What Sorting stuff?
I can... I'm not sure.
Well. It seems to me that if you can't sort me anywhere you'll just have to make a new house. But...
Yes.
Can I ask a favour?
What is it?
Well... I'm really... I don't like people. They're really scary. And everyone out there is always looking at me. I was wondering if you knew a way to... I dunno... Change the way I look so they don't look at me or... Hmm...
I'm not sure. There are many ways in magic to do so. Such as a Polyjuice Potion, that makes you look like a specific person. Or if you have an metamorphigus abilities then you should be able to change at will with practice. Or glamours, that change your appearance.
But. But I don't... I don't even want to be in the school really. I don't really... I just... Its really frightening and everyone is always there and I figure I can learn magic another way, but I don't want to go back to the Dursleys.
There was silence for a few moments.
I have an idea.
What is it?
Can you... I... Possess people?
Um... Let me check.
Brian went through some files in his mind of his abilities.
Holy mother of Merlin I can possess people!
Would you possess me?
You want to be... a hat?
Well I think that it would be best because you can be me and I can be you. Therefore I don't have to see anyone and I can still learn magic and you can go... do whatever. See it as a favour to me.
Do you really want to be a hat?
I won't be a hat forever, will I?
No. I suppose not.
And I could talk to you whenever I want.
I think it would be better for you to interact with people.
Well... I will... one day. Its just today on the train there was so many people, and this red headed boy I think he was lying to me. And then there was this bookish girl who was talking at me. And I wanted to be friends with this toad boy but then the red headed boy said I shouldn't be friends with him. And then there was this blonde boy who was being mean to the red headed boy, and I didn't really care because I don't really like the red headed boy, but you still shouldn't be mean. And then everyone kept staring at me and it was just like Privet Drive, but I didn't know what they wanted.
Brian contemplated it for a few moments. It would be nice to have a holiday.
Okay. Alright. We can do this. But there will be some rules.
Anything.
So you can return to your body whenever you want. I will check in on you after a week. You can talk to me whenever you want. I wont reveal your secrets and I will keep you safe from harm. You will have to do the Hat Duties.
What are they?
Mainly giving advice to the Headmaster. Not that he ever takes it. You can have some fun with that if you like.
Okay.
But we still have the question of where to sort you. Where would you like to go... while I'm possessing you?
Well I have seen mean people from all the houses. Can you make me a new house?
Okay. And what should we call it.
Floppy Rabbit.
Brian let out a small chuckle.
We can do that.
So... can we do the switch now.
Just wait a moment I have to invent the house, then we can switch, and you can call out the name.
"As Sorting Hat of Hogwarts, bound by the magic of Hogwarts itself, I hereby decree a new house to be created. This house is called FLOPPY RABBIT!"
Okay. Here we go.
Just don't die.
I would say the same thing to you.
And with that Brian transferred their consciousnesses just in time to hear the new Sorting Hat (called Harry) call out,
"FLOPPY RABBIT."
Dead. Silence.
Brian pulled off the hat and walked over to the Griffindor table. Decided that he would simply sit wherever he wanted, the same with sleeping.
He felt brilliant. Air in his lungs. Feeling along his skin. Eyes wide and watered. Mouth wet, the faint taste of sweets on his tongue. Feeling so young and stretchy.
But there was also of course the broken ribs, bruised arms and legs, and the rectal tearing that indicated some not so pleasant things. It was fine. He couldn't reveal Harry's secrets, but he could order Hogwarts to give him some medical attention without anyone knowing.
The Sorting continued.
Damn.
He didn't tell Harry how to sort.