The Sorting Hat

The doors to the Great Hall burst open, and the Hogwarts students flooded into it, Fred and George leading the pack, their arms around each other, singing loudly.

"Oi! Shut up, you two—how much butterbeer did you have, anyway?" called a seventh year from the back, but no one listened to him.

The twins' mood was contagious, and the muttered conversation soon turned to singing as many other students joined in while making their way to the House tables.

Fred and George sat across from each other at the Gryffindor table, and they were soon joined by Lee, Angelina, Alicia, Seamus, Dean, Ron, Hermione, and Harry.

"Hello, Harry," George greeted Harry, clapping him on the back as he sat down.

"Looks like you made it—" George looked down at his watch, "juuuuust in time for the Sorting Ceremony."

Fred grinned. "Good thing, too. You won't want to miss it this year."

"Er…yeah, we were later than usual, they should be starting now, shouldn't they?" Harry asked.

"Why won't we want to miss the Sorting Ceremony this year? What's different?" Hermione wanted to know.

The twins' grins grew broader.

"Oh, you'll find out right about…"

"Now."

The doors to the Hall had just burst open again, and Professor McGonagall ran through them, looking terrified.

"Oh, dear, oh, dear…" they could hear her mutter as she ran past to the staff table. Many students were looking alarmed now, but the twins' grins never wavered.

"Wait a minute…" Hermione said, scrutinizing the twins suspiciously. "What did you do?"

"Who, us?"

"Do something?"

"Never," they finished together.

Professor McGonagall was talking in hushed tones to Professor Dumbledore, who listened closely, then motioned for a few of the teachers to follow Professor McGonagall out of the Hall.

When they had left, Dumbledore addressed the students.

"It seems our beloved Sorting Hat has gone missing." Muttering broke out among the students. Hermione fixed the twins with a smoldering glare. They ignored her.

Dumbledore held up his hand for silence and continued, "Now, although the Sorting Hat has the magnificent ability to speak, it is, as far as I know, incapable of walking. Therefore, it is to be assumed that it was removed by someone who can. I am sure—" Dumbledore looked at the students over the top of his spectacles, his gaze traveling across the entire Hall, "that the person or persons involved in this prank feel the greatest remorse, and as I know only too well how difficult it can be to confess to figures of authority, I and all my fellow staff members will leave the room now to help look for the hat with the teachers who are already doing so. If, as I suspect may be true, the hat is still in this room, the student or students responsible may place the hat in its rightful place here on the stool, and the other professors and I will return in a few moments in the hope that conscience will have gotten the better of the pranksters, and that the Sorting Ceremony can commence, as I am sure that our first years would like to get it over with."

Here Dumbledore surveyed the students again, and it was no one's imagination that his gaze lingered a little longer on Fred and George than on anyone else.

He and the other teachers left the hall, striding down the center in single file, the students watching them go. When the doors had shut behind them, George grinned at Fred, who reached into a pocket of his robes and pulled out the Sorting hat under the table. Then the two got up and ran, one on either side of the Gryffindor table, up to the front of the Hall.

They jumped onto the platform, where Fred waved the hat in the air, and turned, grinning, to the crowd.

"Okay, Sorting hat…we'll start the bidding at twenty sickles, come on, who'll give me twenty sickles…"

"This is a priceless object, people, you won't find one of these anywhere else…"

Grins began to break out among the crowd, along with a few disapproving frowns, mainly from Hermione, who rolled her eyes, shaking her head in exasperation.

Lee Jordan took off his hat and held it in the air like an auction paddle.

"Twenty!" He grinned broadly at his two best friends.

"Twenty sickles! Thank you, sir. How about six galleons? Let's kick it up to six galleons, I know it's a jump, but come on, it's a talking hat…"

"You, in the front row!" George, pointing to a first-year girl standing near the platform. "Now that's a nice hat, but you could do better…"

"Six galleons, to the gentleman at the back of the Gryffindor table, thank you, sir, I have six galleons, do I hear eight? Eight galleons, come on people, once in a lifetime offer…"

The noise was growing in the Hall, people were laughing, joining in. Black hats shot into the air every few seconds all around the Hall. Even a few of the Slytherins were playing along.

By the time the doors to the Great Hall opened again, the noise was so loud that hardly any one person could be heard among the general din.

Dumbledore strode into the Hall, the other teachers following him, his eyes fixed on the Weasley twins.

"SOLD! To whoever you are," George said, throwing the hat to a Gryffindor seated near the platform, jumping down, and running back to his seat, Fred on his heels.

The hall had gone silent. The teachers filed back behind the staff table, and Dumbledore turned to address the crowd once more.

"It seems," he said calmly, "that the hat has been found. Miss Grayson, if you would be so kind as to return it to the stool."

The blonde girl at the Gryffindor table to whom George had thrown the hat ran up to the platform, placed the hat on the stool, and ran back to her seat quickly, with an expression that clearly said she didn't want to be associated with any of this.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said. "Now, let the ceremony—finally—begin."

Over at the Gryffindor table, Fred and George were snickering quietly and conversing in hushed tones. George had pulled a list out of his pocket, and the two were consulting it under Hermione's angry glare.

"Okay, let's see, auction off the Sorting Hat…done. What's next? Oh, wait, hold on. Here it comes, watch."

Professor McGonagall, looking like she was recovering from shock, began to read from the list of first years.

"Anders, Christopher," was up first. Christopher broke away from the other first years and walked up to the stool, wide-eyed, clearly wondering what on earth he was getting himself into.

Christopher sat down very carefully on the stool, as if afraid either that he would break it or that it would bite him, and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on his head.

But as soon as the hat hit his head, instead of bursting out a House name, fireworks burst out of the top of it, and it shot into the air.

Christopher screamed, all the other first years screamed, most of the other students screamed, and McGonagall gasped and looked like she'd lost all the composure she'd tried to obtain since finding the hat missing. Fred and George, however, burst into laughter, jumped up, and high-fived each other across the table.

"WEASLEY!" Professor McGonagall had finally lost it. She marched across the room, grabbed Fred by the collar, and marched out of the Hall, yelling, "GEORGE! COME!"