25. THE SORTING HAT

Set yer phasers on "disclaimer," people. I own nothing.

Bart Simpson opened his eyes to an unfamiliar office. He had been

in Skinner's office enough times to know which room it was. This

was the Headmaster's office and it was beyond cool. He had never

seen such a room. There were pictures all over the walls and the

people in them were all snoring. Light shone through the windows;

Bart had never seen the stars so bright.

"Hello?" he called.

Low,rumbling laughter answered him.

It echoed through the room,above the snoring,above all the other

tiny noises in the office. "Hey," Bart said. "Where are you?"

"Why,you're not a student at all,are you? Not at Hogwarts,anyway."

Bart stepped closer to the desk.

"The Headmaster sent me," Bart said.

"Oh,REALLY."

He passed the desk. There was an empty perch,next to one of the

bookshelves. It was obviously Fawkes's.

"Yeah,totally."

"Well," the voice said. "You must be a very special boy-"

There was a hat on top of the bookshelf.

Bart grabbed it,expecting something to be hiding underneath.

"You little brat,you're lucky I don't have TEETH-"

Bart felt his fingers sinking into an abyss-

"Mrf. Garwfff-"

Bart pulled his fingers out.

"What?" he asked.

"Take your fingers away from my mouth,young man."

Bart turned the hat over. "Whooaaaa," he said.

"I've been described in many ways. 'Whooaaaa' is a new one. Now,

young man,who are you?"

"Bart Simpson...sir."

"Bart Simpson," said the hat,drawing his name out like a careful

lexicographer.

"Do you have a name?"

"I'm commonly referred to as The Sorting Hat."

"Oh. What do you sort?"

"I sort the students into their houses. I sing a song at the

start of the year,too. Would you like to hear this year's? Or

next year's? I get a lot of time to compose, as you might guess."

"Nah," Bart said.

It frowned.

"I'm guessing you're not a transfer student."

"I'm from Springfield, Mr. Hat."

"Ah yes,the exchange program. I was led to believe that Willy

gentleman was the only one coming to Hogwarts. And kindly refrain

from referring to me as Mr. Hat."

"What should I call you?"

"Why should you call me anything?"

"It could be a matter of national security."

"Whose security? Ours our yours?"

"The whole world,hat-dude."

Why should I believe you?"

"Because it's...Hey...is that a balcony out there?"

Bart gripped the hat by the top.

"What are you doing? WHERE ARE YOU TAKING ME?"

The balcony was spacious,with a brass railing running its

circumfrence. The floor was made of marble. The view was

beyond any words Bart could find. The lake shimmered in the

moonlight. The trees in the forest whispered,caught by a long

and gentle breeze.

"Now,I'm going to ask nicely," Bart said. "Please help me."

"What if I refuse?"

Bart went to the railing. Then he thrust the hat into empty

space. A wind picked up; the Hat flapped in the breeze like a flag. "I'll let go," he said.

The hat growled something Bart didn't understand.

"Fine,fine,I'll help you," it said.

Bart pulled it away from the balcony.

"Excellent," Bart said.

Reluctantly,he went back inside.

"Now," Bart said,"What-"

There was a knock on the door.

"Who the hell is that?" Bart whispered.

"How should I know?"

"What should we do?"

"We? What do you mean,we?"

"Headmaster?"

The door swung open.

Bart would have laughed at the little man who entered the room.

Something told him not to; he was another professor,and the

Headmaster seemed like he hired only the best.

"Oh," Bart said. "Hey."

Flitwick raised his eyebrows at the boy,who held the Sorting Hat

under one arm. "Hey yourself,young man. I wasn't aware of any new

students coming in."

"I transferred."

"From where?"

Bart told him.

"You know," Flitwick said,"I could easily overpower you and lock

you in that closet,over there. It'd just be us and a bottle of

Veritaserum."

"You don't have to do that," the Hat said.

He sighed. "Good. I hate that. Professor Filius Flitwick,I'll be

your Charms professor. Of course, I'm sure you're no stranger to

Charms."

Bart shook his hand.

"Where is the Headmaster?" Flitwick asked.

"Looking for the Gatekeeper?"

"A bit hard of hearing,are you? THE HEADMASTER. Big man? Tall,long

silver beard and blue,twinkling eyes?"

"Yeah," Bart said. "He had business."

"Oh well," he said. "Let's go down and get you sorted."

So he led Bart and the Hat out of the room. Bart couldn't

help but gawk at the castle. He just managed to follow

Flitwick down the maze of staircases,which wouldn't stay put.

Bart wondered how these people put up with going to school in a

deranged funhouse day after day.

Eventually,they stopped in front of a set of tall doors. Flitwick

pushed them open and stepped aside for Bart.

The place was full of kids.

"Wait," Bart said,"I'm going to be sorted in front of everybody?"

"I assure you,it won't be humiliating,Bart."

Attracting a few stares,they walked up to the front,where the

teachers sat. There were a few empty chairs up there. There were

still a few teachers up there; he tried to get a better look at

them,but Flitwick slid a stool under Bart.

No one even needed to call the kids to order. They were all

eyeballing Bart with curiosity.

Flitwick stepped onto the table.

"Now,then,children,this week has certainly proved to be eventful.

Not only are we participating in an exchange program with an

American Muggle school,we also have a new student who just arrived.

I'd like to introduce you all to Bart Simpson,newly transferred

from-" he leaned towards Bart. "Where was that again?"

Bart told him.

"Right. Bart Simpson,newly transferred from the Bonerville Academy

Of Magic. I'm sure he will make Hogwarts proud."

He plopped the Hat onto Bart's head.

*Bonerville?*

*Best I could do on such short notice.*

*oh my GOD.*

*What is it? See something you don't like?*

*You...I can't believe this. Oh,wait,now THIS is worse-*

*Aaahahaa...*

*I think you probably belong in Slytherin,but...I never thought

this was possible...you're too BAD to be in Slytherin...*

*Is Slytherin the bad house?*

*Slytherin's are known for their cunning. Not neccessarily malice.

Although you should see some of the kids they've got in there. I

think I'll put you in-*

"GRYFFINDOR!"