The school feel silent, as everyone in the Great Hall stared at the Sorting Hat in disbelief. It was unheard of, unprecedented.

"Did the hat just quit?" Dean Thomas whispered under his breath.

True, the Sorting Hat had been growing impatient over the past years with all the bickering among houses, but it had never refused to sort before. The Professors looked like they were at a loss for words.

"I Professor Severus Snape, Deputy Headmaster of Hogwarts command you to sort!" Snape snapped at the hat.

The entire Great Hall let out a snicker as the hat responded by sticking out it's tongue. Snape didn't find it the least bit humorous. He had the same expression on his face that Harry had seen him have the day he had peered into Dumbledore's Pensive and snuck a peek at one of Snape's memories.

"Professor McGonagall, what are we going to do? We have no back up plan for a situation like this." said a nervous looking Professor Sprout.

"I suppose we should summon Professor Dumbledore. I'm not sure we can do anything at all," McGonagall sighed, disappearing into a door that was next to the Professors' table.
Snape had not yet given up on the Sorting Hat; Determined to not let it embarrass him on his first Sorting Ceremony as Deputy Headmaster.

"You, come here," Snape hissed as a terrified looking first year.

"What the bloody hell does Snape think he's doing?" Ron laughed as the students watched their flustered looking Potions Master.

Snape shoved the tattered hat tightly onto the first years head. At first it looked like the Snape had succeeded, then the hat let out a merry cackle and popped itself right off, and broke into song again.

"Oh how quickly time does travel,
When you're merely just a hat.
So tattered, worn and ragged and nothing more than that.
Each year I greet the new ones, and tell them of my cause.
Three years now I've been preaching, but my words all still quite lost.

I remember back to old days, when the founders made me proud.
Fool hearted was the lot of them, a mistake, myself I found.
Each year I do divide you, each one I give a fate.
Three years now I've been telling you, that sorting is a mistake.

I divide you into houses and I marvel at my work.
For no other hat could do the task, my duties such a perk.

The founders proud, had their traits
Each one they did select.
Created me, to see, you see
Four houses I did erect.

Brave Gryffindor had a heart of steel.
A courageous kindly gent.
Slytherin was sly and mean,
Witty students he did select.

Sweet Hufflepuff was awfully kind,
And turned not one away.
And Ravenclaw had smarts untold,
True knowledge was her trait.

The one thing that these founders could never really get.
Dividing students amongst each other, went against what Hogwarts meant.

So this year I have decided, that my talk seems awfully cheap.
What needed is some action, that action starts with me.

I will not sort, divide you.
I will not do my job.
Sorting you into houses, I repeat is truly wrong.

Sorry to disappoint you.
Sorry for my choice.
But as all things good must come to an end,
The end I now rejoice.

So turned me into ashes, let the fires burn and roar.
For this old hat, is now just that and will not sort no more.




"You stupid hat! Will you shut-up and do what you were created to do!?" Snape fumed, his nostrils flaring.

Again, the hat merely cackled and stuck out it's tongue.

"Professor Snape, I don't think yelling at it is going to get it to corporate," Professor Flitwick responded, prodding the hat with his wand.

"If it won't sort, then I sort for it," Snape hissed. "You, go to the Hufflepuff table."

The terrified first year didn't move.

"I said go to the Hufflepuff table, are you deaf!" Snape snapped.

"Professor Snape, surely you don't believe you'll be able to accurately place the students in their houses," said a tired looking Professor Dumbledore, as he walked into the Great Hall next to Professor McGonagall.

"Sorting Hat, I've been told you sang quite a song this year," Dumbledore said brightly to the tattered hat, which was now sitting at the Professors' table.

"Ah Dumbledore, couldn't stay away er?" the hat commented.
Dumbledore smiled, "Well, I'm afraid you caused some excitement, and I thought maybe you and I couldn't chat about your resignation."

"Nope, made up my mind for good this time. I've been telling you for years now that I was going to quit. With you leaving, I figured it's time I hung myself on the wall also," the hat answered.

"Very well, we'll respect your decision," Dumbledore nodded.

"But Professor, how will we sort the students?" Professor McGonagall asked anxiously.

Dumbledore smiled, "The same way we always have. We'll ask them which house they want to be in. After all, that's what the Sorting Hat did."

Snape looked like he had just swallowed a sour lemon at Dumbledore's words, but he nodded.

"Tessy Anderson."

A young blond girl stepped forward, she looked like she was about to faint.

"Which house do you want to be in Miss Anderson?" Snape asked nauseously.

The young girl muttered something, but nobody could tell what she said.

"What was that, you'll have to speak up," Snape instructed, rolling his eyes.

"Gryffindor."

"And is there a reason you want to be a Gryffindor?" Snape pushed, his face the color of a rotten plum.

"Because Harry Potter is in Gryffindor," she answered.

****



Nothing was usual about the start of the new year. The sorting nearly took four times as long as usual, as each new student had to be coaxed into revealing what house they wanted to join. The poor muggle born students, looked the most stressed of all. None of them even had the slightly inkling what house meant what. When a young muggle born boy name Matt Klye was asked what house he wanted to join, he pointed at the Hufflepuff table and answered, "I like the color of that table."

It took so long to sort the students that by the time the feast actually started, none of the students even stopped to talk. They were all to busy eating. Thirty minuets after the gorging had started, students finally found other uses for their mouths.

"Did you see the look on Snape's face?" Ron jeered, recalling the recent memory, " I Severus Snape command you to sort," he mocked.

Ginny stuck out her tongue to finish the joke.

"I don't think it's funny," Hermione said softly, as if she was hoping nobody would really notice she said anything.

"And why not?" Ron reared.

Hermione sighed, "Don't you find it odd? The Sorting Hat has been sorting since the founders' time, now suddenly it decides it doesn't want to sort anymore? It can't be good."

"Oh Hermione, lighten up. You're always so tense, about everything," Ron commented with a half cocked grin.

Hermione let out a slight gasp before returning to her silence. Harry couldn't help but notice the difference in Ron's tone, as if his comment was only understood by him and Hermione.

"Harry!" called over two of Harry's Hufflepuff friends, Ernie Macmillian and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Hey Ernie, Justin," Harry greeted, and Ron turned to wave a hello to them also.

"Congratulations on making Head Boy. Everyone knew you'd make it," Justin said happily.

"Everyone but me apparently," Harry grinned.

"It almost doesn't seem right, I've been a prefect going on three years now. And now you, who've never been a prefect is in charge of me," Ernie attempted to joke.

"You don't have to be a Prefect to make Head," Hermione piped in.

Ernie grinned, "Speaking of, how in the world did Patil beat you out for Head Girl?"

"I'd like to think of it as better suited for the job, not beaten out," Hermione spat.

"Calm down Granger, it was only a joke," Ernie laughed, holding his hands up in defense.

"Wasn't very funny though was it," Ron defended.

Harry couldn't help but stare at Hermione, as Ron defended her she turned into a tomatoes, but before Harry could say anything, she excused herself from the table.

"What's up with Hermione, she's acting unusual?" Harry asked aloud, inviting anyone to answer.

"Ronald Weasley, don't you dare!" Ginny warned, snapping her head over to her brother.

"What?" Ron retorted, "I'm not the one acting like something happened."

"What happened?" Harry pushed, his attention drawn on Ron. Justin and Ernie also seemed to be rather interested.

"Like you don't know. You saw it!" Ron jeered, taking a gulp of his pumpkin juice.

"Ron, have some respect for crying out loud," Ginny said with a look of disgust.

Ron narrowed his eyes, "I'm not the one who did it! She the one acting like I'm a vampire or something now. She won't even talk to me about it."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Is that all you ever thing about?"

"What?"

"YOURSELF!" Ginny shrilled, snapping her head around, slapping Ron's face with her hair.

Harry held his breath, "Here we go again."

Justin and Ernie made a hasty retreat as Ginny and Ron started round number (oh who can remember) of their fight. Harry was tempted to do the same thing Hermione had done, and quickly excuse himself from the table.

"Harry, can we have a word with you?" asked Tonks as she approached with Kingsley Shacklebolt and an older man Harry had never seen before. Harry let out a sigh of relief, he'd been saved.

"Sure," Harry said anxiously, excusing himself from the table.

He followed the three Auror, into the corridor, and out of ear shot of any eavesdropping students.

"Harry, you know Kingsley Shacklebolt already. This is Odin Blackfoot, he's an Auror at the Ministry as well," Tonks introduced.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Blackfoot," Harry greeted.

"Huh? What did you say?" the old man asked, holding his hand to his ear.

"We're going to be your monitors this year while you're at Hogwarts. December O'Riley is appealing your privileges, so after this month you might see a little less of us. Mainly we'll walk you to you classes, Quidditch matches, things like that," Shacklebolt said casually.

Harry grinned sarcastically, "Basically you'll follow me around wherever I go leaving me no privacy."

"Basically," Shacklebolt agreed.

"Forgive me if I don't seem ecstatic about the arrangement," Harry said with a sneer.

"I know it stinks, but it's Fudge's orders. We'll give you as much space as we can, but you have to promise you won't go looking for trouble," Tonks offered.

"Why does everyone always assume I go looking for trouble?" Harry retorted.

Tonks reached into her pocket a pulled out a golden arrow shaped pin. She reached down and pinned it to Harry's robe.

"This is a tracking arrow. It will tell us your precise location, if you ever need us just poke yourself with the tip," Tonks instructed.

****



Some year it was turning out to be. O'Riley hadn't been lying, Harry had monitors who were keeping tabs on his every move. Just what every seventeen year old wants, Three adults to follow him around, and nose in his private affairs. He could have bit a nail in two. Just the thought of Cornelius Fudge made Harry's stomach turn green.

As Tonks dropped him off at the Portrait of the Fat Lady, who was the guardian of the Gryffindor house, Harry realized that she was leaving.

"Aren't you going back to your office?" Harry asked.
"No, I'm on duty tonight. We can't have you sneaking out past hours now can we?" Tonks teased.
"But I'm Head Boy, I don't have a curfew," Harry protested.

"If you have the urge to explore the castle at night, you can exercise your Head privileges, but I'm going to come with you," Tonks insisted. "Goodnight Harry."

Harry sank into the couch in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. He glanced at the headline on the copy of the Daily Prophet sitting on the table.

Minister Fudge Says Harry Potter is Like Son to Him

"You fat git," Harry hissed at the smiling picture of the Minister.
"Hey mate, where did you disappear to?" Ron asked as he appeared through the portrait.

"I mean, the first year haven't even gotten here yet," Ron continued.

"I was escorted here, orders of Minister Fudge," Harry said hatefully.

'That stinks a big one," Ron muttered, unwrapping a chocolate frog and shoving it into his mouth.

Harry sighed, "So what were you and Ginny bickering about?"

"Oh it's nothing. Ginny is just too protective of Hermione sometimes," Ron said casually, trying to ignore the subject.

"What happen Ron?" Harry pushed, knowing that look in his old friends eyes.

Ron chewed up his frog, not looking back over at Harry. A few times he took a deep breath like was wanted to say something, but didn't.

"Ron, you can tell me. I mean what could it hurt. You said yourself you thought I already knew," Harry pleaded.

"Hermione kiss me," Ron finally blurted out.

Harry, who was in the middle of saying something, suddenly choked.

"Harry you okay?" Ron asked.

Harry coughed, "I'm fine, she what?"

"Well, it wasn't a big deal. It didn't evolve into anything. That day you popped in on us you know," Ron continued nonchalantly.

"We weren't doing anything," Harry said with a smirk, remembering the scene vividly.

"It's all your fault you know. If you and mum hadn't made me go up and talk to her. One minuet I was telling her what a dope Dumbledore was for not making her Head Girl, next minuet she was attacked me," Ron embellished.

"Ron," Harry said with a look.

"Well, something along those lines anyways. It doesn't matter, she's barely said ten words to me since. I tired to talk to her about it, but she just got up and left the room," Ron continued.

Harry bit his lip as if he was thinking, "I think you should force her talk. I don't think I can live with you and Ginny bickering all year, and Hermione acting like she doesn't have anything to say."

"It's pointless mate, you know how stubborn Hermione is when she had her mind set to something," Ron defended.

"But you like her, you have to tell her," Harry protested.

"Actually, I'm not so sure I do like her in that way and all. I mean, she seems embarrassed she kissed me. I think I'd rather go out with a girl who isn't ashamed of kissing me, I'm a great catch you know."

"Ron," Harry started.

Ron grinned, "Plus, I already asked Susan Bones to Hogmeade with me."