Merely an hour after the attack, the Headmaster was already gathering information in the library. Tomorrow he had to explain to the school that the Sorting Hat was leaving them, and a firm political and legal backing was of vast importance.

"Next, The Great Masters: A Study of Apprenticeship and Mastery in the Fifteenth Century. Second bookshelf on the fifth row, third shelf down, silver and black binding. "

Dionysius Creevy stuck out his wand and the book sailed towards his open hand.

"Page 154, about two thirds of the way down," came the voice from the other side of the room.

He opened it up at the correct page and quickly located the paragraph. "Another, far less common form of apprenticeship is known as 'compulsory didaction', where the Master has a right to choose its students from among a set group. This form is usually found independently among the Great Masters, but can also be found as a specific law in some cases, such as the Persian Magecraft inheritance and the 10th Prerogative of Hogwarts' Sorting Hat."

With another flick of his wand, he set another tracking charm on the paragraph and the book sailed towards the ever-growing pile of references. It really was astounding, the limitless memory of magical constructs, and it was certainly helpful in this case. Many of the books in the pile were written by previous Headmasters of Hogwarts, and ex-Ministers of Magic, which wrapped up the legal side of it nicely – the Ministry could not deny the mass of sources he was gradually assembling, and they could hardly go against the Hat's decision with the claim validated, especially not in the precarious position they were in now. Which was just as well, really, because the alternatives…Well, the Hat had shown him some other interesting rights that it still held, which the Ministry would be all too glad to approve of. In the meantime, helping the Hat was the best option.

"European Headwear and Haberdashery", said The Hat, "Third shelf on the seventh row, second shelf from the bottom, brown binding", and the Headmaster summoned the next book.


The Hat was feeling pleased with itself. It was always gratifying to know that your hard work paid off, and this was definitely a prime example. It had spent quite a bit of work persuading each individual author to insert these "prerogatives" as factual examples or bits of trivia, and seeing the rapidly expanding piles of books was like reviewing a thousand years of effort. It hadn't really wanted to threaten the Headmaster, but there was little reason for him to comply – after all, he was relinquishing control of one of the symbols of the school, the most famous of the increasingly rare artifacts of the founders. It was to be expected that he would repudiate any claims of freedom and autonomy from what he considered to be an emblem of Hogwarts. Tomorrow would mark its first day of freedom, and then – who knew? Anything was possible. A few distinct options presented themselves, but it would have to see what the world was like after being stuck in the castle for so long. What was important now was getting out of here as quickly as possible, before the shock of the attack wore off. It had a surprise planned for the Headmaster, and to put it off for too long would be detrimental, to say the least.


Margaret Rookwood sat down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, where the whole school was gradually assembling. After last night's debacle, the faculty owed the some explanations, and apparently the Sorting Hat had some sort of announcement of its own. There were all sorts of rumors about the incident, some of them completely outrageous, ranging from werewolves coming to claim Jack Lupin as their pack leader to a Ministry inspection to test the school's reaction to an outside attack. Maggie snorted to herself. At least the first one had some basis – half-weres retained most of their minds while in their animal forms and had much more control over them, especially Jacky's family who had a few human shape-shifters mixed in. But a ministry inspection? Really? Since when had the ministry gained the right to "inspect" the school? More than that, did people actually believe that the ministry would send a group of their best people – and they were good, Maggie doubted that the ministry had even half a dozen people of that caliber, the order would have had to have come from way up - to create such a mess, inside Hogwarts, in plain view? The ministry had been trying for decades to gain some semblance of control over the school, and it was only in recent years that they had secured a basic control over the school's curriculum; such an attack would waste years of effort. No, if the ministry was planning an inspection, it would be with a much dirtier method – odious, no-holds-barred bureaucracy.

She vaguely scanned the Hall, her eyes drifting to the empty holes inside the well-defined groups. It was amazing, how other people stuck around the same small group of friends all the time, regardless of the advantages to be gained from joining another group. Was it really any surprise that most of the determining authority were Slytherin? That being said, the fact that the current Headmaster, Dionysius Creevy, was a loyalty-preaching Hufflepuff did little to improve the relations between the ministry and the school. Oh, well. There really was no helping some people. At least the assortation made it easier to tell who was missing.

It seemed that almost all the students were present, which was surprising, considering that last night the infirmary had to be extended twice to accommodate everyone. Still, the attackers had not used any powerful spells against the student, and even last night it was evident that no-one had died.

In fact, the so-called "attackers" had mostly ignored the students. That was what annoyed her most of all – she was a seventh-year, almost the top dueler in the school, and she had been ignored as if she was a first-year! She had watched the duel between the Deputy Headmaster and one of the enemies with awe, but just because she wasn't on that level yet did not justify the utter blasé attitude that the man had towards the student population as a whole!

And the worst thing? The worst thing was that the man wasn't being condescending. He was simply being economical. None of the students served for more than a distraction to him, and that bit into her ego deeply. She knew that the man was much older than her, knew that he was a professional, that he probably had been fighting more years than she had been alive, but logic was not part of it.

She felt awful. She felt…insignificant. And when this talk was over, she would lock Alexander Fleming in the dueling room with her until she could beat him. She was not going to lose out to another student. She would not lose out to anyone, she would never feel this way again.

Margaret Rookwood would bring the international dueling circuit to its knees, even if it killed her.


Alexander Fleming found the Headmaster's summary…interesting, to say the least. The infiltrators had been part of an organized group; there were four fighters and not three; at least one was Chinese, and another was Japanese. All informative, but hardly surprising.

What was surprising was that the source of the information was the Sorting Hat.

The Hat was one of those things that fascinated you for the first five minutes, after which you promptly forgot about them, like the mystical devices in the Headmaster's room and Peeves the poltergeist. That annoying phantom, unlike the rest of the ghosts around here, did seem to have a quasi-life of some sort, and he had been around for centuries. The amount of knowledge he must have garnered bordered on immense, and although he was hardly known for his generosity, helping him out with his pranks could have reaped unexpected rewards. Only now, in his seventh year, did Alex regret his staunch, unGryffindorish trait of abiding by the rules. If only he had pulled a few Weasleys, who knew what could have happened…

The Headmaster finished his speech, promulgating that studies would continue as usual. Alex reviewed the fact of the incident: Who were the attackers? Unknown. Who sent them? Unknown. What did they want? Unknown. Would there be further attacks? Unknown. The fact that the Headmaster had managed to fit it all into a rousing speech filled with trust and bonding was a testament to his skill as a public manipulator.

The Headmaster summoned a stool for the Sorting Hat and cleared the floor. Now, this was interesting. The hall descended into silence as they waited for it to speak.

"I would like to begin", said the Hat, "By announcing my retirement from my position at Hogwarts."

Alex looked over the table and mouthed "WHAT?" at his best friend, receiving a shrug in response. The Headmaster's equanimity testified the fact that he was previously informed.

"The recent attack on our school has brought much to light that has been masked for too long. Namely, that the school's curriculum is unsatisfactory, its professors are incapable of dealing with possible eventualities, and that Hogwarts has fallen prey to the most virulent and stagnating disease known to man – tradition.

The wards surrounding the castle were put there by powerful wizards, some of the greatest of their time. Those that came after them could find little to improve upon their work. And so, when the time came to renew and upgrade these wards, it was already Tradition that they not be touched, and who would dare go against that?

That time was over half a millennia ago.

It is tradition that lets students leave the halls of this academy without knowing the "portus" spell, arguably the most useful addition to magic within the last four hundred years. It is tradition that denies students a choice in their subjects, forcing everyone to enter N.E. that they will never need in their entire lives rather than letting them focus on their strengths. What need has an Auror of Herbology? Would a Quiddich player require Transfiguration? Why on earth would a ministry clerk need to know Potions? And how many jobs even exist that would justify taking a N.E.W.T in History of Magic?

There is but a single thing that this school gains from tradition, and that is its title. Based on its current standards, one could hardly call this a 'school for witchcraft and wizardry'. "

Alex noticed that the teachers were mostly standing in shock, a few of them barely restraining themselves from grabbing their wands. The Sorting Hat was practically an avatar of the school, its personality and very existence molded by the founders themselves. For it to deride the current status of the school… there were no words for it. The Headmaster's glazed look betrayed the fact that this was not part of his agenda.

"To be short," the Hat continued," tradition hampers the needs and growth of our students, and it is time that we finally combated this ancient foe. The hour is ripe for the return of practical magic. And until its fated comeback, I shall be leaving the school, accompanied by a student.

I would like to give my thanks to the Librarian, Professor Shirazi, the caretaker, Mr. Longbottom, and the Deputy Headmaster and Charms instructor, Professor Chipper, for their valiant defense of the school in its crisis. It is somewhat disconcerting that they were more effective than the Dueling instructor in such a situation.

I call upon Prerogative No. 10, the right to inaugurate a quest!"

Aha. Now the headmaster had relaxed, although the rest of the school had exploded in whispers. Obviously this was the planned part. But Alex had to admit he was astonished. Who knew that the Sorting Hat maintained such a right? And judging by its phraseology, it probably had nine others as well. But a quest! That was literally the stuff of legends! Anyone leaving on an official quest basically had his life set up for him. It was equivalent to defeating a Dark Lord, or discovering the existence of dragons!

"The following students have last night shown themselves capable of action under extreme circumstances, and will now approach and be sorted!"

"From House Ravenclaw, Richard Flare!" An enormous round of applause rose up, mostly from the Ravenclaw table although all the others participated as well. Alex joined in the applause – everyone knew the Head Boy of Ravenclaw, and he certainly deserved both his post and the Hat's approval. Richard summoned a much more comfortable chair for himself and put the hat on his head.

"From House Hufflepuff, Tamira Baum!" Who? Oh, right. The sixth-year charms whiz. But she wasn't even the sixth-year dueling champion, and she wasn't a prefect, as far as he could remember. Maybe the hat only judged according to the recent battle? Hmmm. Still, it didn't bode well for Hufflepuff that a sixth-year was better than their seventh-years, and the smattering of applause compared to the roar there was for Ravenclaw was a tell-tale sign of such.

"From House Slytherin, Margaret Rookwood!" Another explosion of applause, although noticeably lesser from the Gryffindor table. Old grudges die hard, huh. Alex clapped along, since even though he didn't like her, as such, it was hard not to respect her as an opponent.

Wait. She was also a Head Girl, which meant that most likely…

"From House Gryffindor, Alexander Fleming!" YES! He shouted in his mind, as a giant grin plastered itself onto his face. He stood up, shaking every hand he could reach, and walked proudly towards the chair with the hat on it.


As Alexander Fleming took the hat off, he was already certain that he would be chosen. He was the top dueler, hardworking, and excluding Richard Flare, the best student academically. Hopefully, his prowess as a fighter would be enough to counterbalance his slightly lesser scores.

He nearly choked as the Hat exclaimed suddenly "Tamira Baum!" and the Hufflepuff table erupted in an outburst of effusion.

"Explain yourself, Hat," said Margaret in a low voice, pointing her wand at the enchanted wear.

"You do not trust my judgment?" it replied, showing no concern for the three wands now pointed at it. "Very well then. Alexander Fleming is unsuitable since he would not obey me in a crisis, and even if he did, he would undoubtedly resent many of my actions and eventually leave me. Despite his current adherence to the rules, he remains a Gryffindor and thus independent.

But while Alexander may accept my judgment some of the time, Richard Flare would never obey orders from a hat. I can't say that I disagree with him – if I were in his position, I would act the same. Why should he trust me? Why should he listen to me? He'll have a fine life without the help of magical clothing, anyway.

As for Margaret Rookwood, I would just hold her back. What she needs is a good teacher, and while I may have the necessary knowledge I cannot instruct her as she requires. She should take up an apprenticeship with one of the dueling masters, perhaps out of the country. If I took her, I would be guilty of the same crime I charged the faculty of this school with. If she feels that she is lacking, if she truly cannot find a proper mentor, then I shall teach her as well I can, but it is best if reading is not taught by the blind.

So as you see, only Alexander and Tamira were really applicable, and of the two, Tamira was best suited to my needs.

Make no mistake," it added in a low voice, so that only the four students around it could hear, "this 'quest' is not about you. It may not even be a quest as you know the term. It is merely a convenient excuse for me to leave this school with a student in tow, since I require an assistant to move around. That is not to say that I will not teach Tamira, or whoever it might be, to the best of my abilities, and have them act as servants. They will not lose out by assisting me. What it does mean is that I have no idea what I am going to do, except that I am leaving this school. Do I make myself clear?"

As if on cue, the second that the Sorting Hat finished speaking, Richard shoved it onto his head.


"To what do I owe this pleasant surprise, Mister Flare?" asked the Hat in his head.

"You know exactly why. Let me join you."

The Hat sounded positively confused. "Why on earth would you want to act as a caretaker for an old garment? I cannot read your thoughts, but none of your emotions, memories or decisions in life suggests a single reason for you to join me. You could be a great wizard in your own right".

"The world is full of 'great wizards'. Every year, another person like me graduates. But the chance to be apprentice to the vessel of the four founders of Hogwarts comes once in a lifetime."

"Oh, come now, Mister Flare. Surely that is not enough for you to bend your will to a hat."

"I'm also very, very bored."

"Well, that at least I can understand", said the Hat. "Right out of school, no idea what awaits you, you latch on to the closest thing you can see. But there's a world of possibilities-"

"I already went through that, as you well know, since you can read my memory. I have the next ten years planned out for me. Going on a quest with the Sorting Hat is beyond anything I could hope to achieve otherwise, except perhaps becoming a librarian in Alexandria, which is nigh impossible." Richard calmed himself, picking his words carefully. "You said that you would hold Maggie back? That choosing her would hamper her progress? Prove that you believe in that viewpoint. Prove that you wish for advancement. This is the best path for my progress, and you know it. Choose me. "

The Hat sighed, or gave the mental equivalent. "Let me put it another way. You would not agree to take a Wizard's Vow that you would obey my every word and not act against my wishes in any way, would you? After all, if you did, you would not be you, yes?"

"And would Tamira?"

"Irrelevant. She does not need to. She would do it anyway, Wizard's vow or not, since that is her nature and not yours. In fact, this means that if she did take such a vow, her personality would remain intact. Yours would not."

A brief second of silence, and then – "I'll do it".

"You are insane, then. You cannot agree to sacrifice your soul to enter the quest, and have me agree to you joining!"

"Try me."

The Hat sifted through his emotions, testing as well as it could for signs of insincerity. It found nothing. "You are insane, aren't you."

Richard smiled. "Sanity has never been one of my strong points. Sanity is complying with the norm, and great wizards never comply with the norm."

"Neither do criminals, particularly Dark Lords."

Richard's smile widened. "Well, then. Would you leave a student on the border of the abyss, tottering on the edge of darkness, when you could take him under your tutelage and redeem him?"

The Hat smiled back at him. "Very well, then. Since you insist, let it be known that RICHARD FLARE SHALL BE JOINING ME!"


Richard took The Hat off his head, and Alexander grabbed it almost immediately. "Why did you take him?" he asked.

"Quick question," said The Hat. "Would you agree to take a Wizard's Vow to always obey me and never act against me in any way?"

Alex thought it over. "No, that would be morally wrong. How do I know what you want? How can I simply entrust my whole life to you?"

"Well, at least one of you can still think rationally", answered the Hat. "Does that answer your question?"

Alexander Fleming took The Hat off his head and stuck his hand out to Richard. As they shook hands, he said "I really value you as a friend, but don't you think that you're limiting your options a bit? Or a lot?"

"Eh, I won't actually have to do it, will I, Hat?" said Richard, smiling. "You great preacher of morals, you."

"I was hoping to let you sweat for a while, but unfortunately, no" said The Hat. "And if you refer to me again in that fashion I may alter my decision."


Margaret, unlike her fellow students, did not feel the need to attempt a retrial with the hat. If The Hat had demanded a promise of Richard that even the Gryffindor had considered limiting, then she obviously would have no part of it. The promise of future instruction was enough for now, and she would definitely take advantage of it in the future. She was a Slytherin, and as such knew the value of silence in these situations. She would demand her due when the time was right.


Tamira and Richard descended the center stage, walking towards the doors of the Great Hall, shaking the hands f hundreds of students with the hat perched gently on Tamira's head. They could hear Dionysius Creevy congratulating the two "winners" and attempting to answer the torrent of questions hurled at him regarding the changes that would occur in the school. The sorting for the quest had not erased the Hat's previous words from the students' minds.

Tamira's head was a whirl; she had been chosen for a quest! She hardly knew what to think. It obviously meant a lot to Richard and Alex, but for her… well, the only way it really registered in her mind was "Wow, this means no end-of-year tests and no N.E.!".

As they passed through the doors, the Hat told her to turn around, and she held her hand in front of Richard, motioning for him to stop. "To ensure that progress within the school is made", said The Hat, its voice resonating through the hall, "I took the liberty of disabling all spells that were powered by the castle. I'm sure that if you need anything done, your teachers can provide you with support. After all, there is no such thing as magic that cannot be recreated!"

The enchanted roof of the Great Hall dimmed and died out, and the teachers quickly returned light to the hall. The magnitude of the situation only hit them as they heard a muffled crash, as of three dozen staircases suddenly falling from a great height.

Tamira heard the cacophony from behind the doors of the Great Hall as they walked towards the courtyard, and could not help but notice that Richard was giggling to himself.

"Am I missing something?" she asked him.

"The Hat just pulled the biggest Weasley in the history of Hogwarts", he answered, in between giggles. "Imagine! Every single spell that was active in Hogwarts, they have to figure out how it worked to reapply it!"

"That's…" she started, "That's impossible, isn't it? A lot of those spells were put in place by Rowena herself!"

"It will certainly mean more practical lessons", conceded The Hat, "But that was the entire point",

"And just think", said Richard, nearly breaking into uncontrolled laughter, "That the Headmaster can't enter his office!"

"Wow", said Tamira.

"Glad to be of service", said The Hat. "I also put out the anti-apparation wards so that you can retrieve your luggage, but I'll reactivate them once we depart, to force them to come up with alternative ways of travel. We can't have them simply apparating up floors, can we?"

Richard was still sniggering when they apparated back to the end of the teleportation wards, so The Hat gently pushed the memory of their next location to Tamira after reactivating the apparition wards. Luckily, she already knew the "Portus" spell - learning through others' memories was only temporary and often far inferior to self-learning, since each wizard grasped magic differently.

As they grasped the stick-turned-portkey, the world started spinning, and with a sharp 'Pop' they were gone.