The boy was too terrified for coherent thought, which made it much easier for the Sorting Hat to do its job. Not that the Sorting Hat was entirely pleased with this state of affairs, because the boy was not frightened of being sorted (as was common among students, and presented nothing more than an opportunity to develop courage) but of going to Hogwarts itself.
More specifically, of one of his secrets coming out during his time at Hogwarts. He was afraid, and yet he had come to school anyway out of a determination to learn all he could before the inevitable occurred and he was forced to make his own way in the world.
It was a desperate sort of courage, but it was courage all the same and Godric would have respected it. Salazar and Helga and Rowena would have respected it too, but they wouldn't have had the same sort of admiration for it that Godric would have had.
But the Sorting Hat had made a point never to sort solely because of a dominant characteristic and there were qualities other than bravery to consider. "Quite a fine mind." If Remus Lupin had gone to school in the days of the founders, Rowena would have snatched him up as quickly as she could– not only was the boy reasonably intelligent, he was studious enough to please even Helga and was incapable of taking knowledge for granted.
"Thank you," the boy whispered aloud. Gratitude from new students was not entirely unknown, but the Hat appreciated it anyway. In the early days, when it had had a place of honor in the Great Hall the whole year round (unfortunately ended when one first year, unhappy with his sorting, had attempted to infest the Hat with doxies), it had been the recipient of many a student's gratitude for sparing them the potentially humiliating ordeal of being publicly sorted by four people who could not read minds.
"You've very welcome." Helga had always appreciated gratitude– not that the rest didn't dislike ingratitude, but they didn't differentiate as much between true gratitude and merely mouthing what was necessitated by politeness– and it was a shame that the boy was not much suited for Hufflepuff. Helga herself may not have prized gregariousness, but her love of teamwork meant that she had ended up with a house full of social butterflies. The boy would always be on edge there, living in constant terror that his secret would be unearthed.
"Are you going to put me in Ravenclaw?"
The Hat would have, if not for the boy's secret. While the more solitary nature of Ravenclaws would make Lupin fit in more and feel safer, it also would make it quite likely for him to go seven years without making any close friends– not something that the Hat could in good conscious inflict upon any student– and if he did make any, Ravenclaws were the most likely to put the dates together and realize that Remus Lupin was always absent just following the full moon.
Things would get dicey from there, and while the Hat would like to think that no student would desert a friend– or worse, endanger him by spreading his secret to others within and outside the school– it had to admit that such a thing was likely, especially in the House that prided itself on cool detachment.
"No." It would seem that the Hat's first instinct had been right after all. "Your courage places you in GRYFFINDOR."
