"The new students are on their way," said the Hat. "Waiting for the song, waiting to be Sorted into their houses. They trust me. You trust me. I've been working on a very different song this year. Perhaps it will make some people think. After all, that's my right, to address the school and make them think."
McGonagall looked up at the battered headware in annoyance. "You," she pointed out, "are a figurehat. As for addressing, you've spoken more in the past few weeks than in the past several hundred years. Hadn't you better save your voice?"
"We take it for granted, do you realize that?" the Hat replied thoughtfully, as if McGonagall had not said a word. "We have reduced the Founders to fragments, to pithy little sayings. I did it for a while. Gryffindorian bravery. Ravenclaw's intelligence. Nasty slinky Slytherin. Hufflepuff, who takes anybody who isn't good enough for the first three. I was frozen in time, you know. They made me at a certain point in time. Perhaps that is why it took me so long to gain... depth... one second, one minute, even one year is very shallow.
"Gryffindor is known for bravery, but also foolhardiness. He met every challenge head-on. He solved every problem with his sword. Because of that, he made enemies that he did not need to make. His attitude drove Salazar away more than anything else. Had he just argued his points intelligently like Rowena, or sought compromise like Helga, we may have not ever suffered the rifts that endure to this day. I sort brave students into Gryffindor. Should I not also sort the foolhardy ones, the angry ones, the fearful ones? How can Gryffindor students possibly be fearful? Not being willing to stop and think, to negotiate, to calmly consider the alternatives is a sign of fear, fear that you may be proven wrong, fear that what you believe is not the way it should be. Have you ever wondered, Little Minerva, why I was not sure if you belonged in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw?
"Rowena Ravenclaw pursues knowledge, and so it is often said that she is very wise. Knowledge, sadly, does not always lead to wisdom. Rowena prized knowledge above wisdom, always certian that she could find what she wanted, if she only searched in the right places. But love and acceptance is not found in an ancient tome, or in a long-lost spell. Perhaps Ravenclaw students should be cold-hearted as she was, proud as she was, unwilling to seek aid in their time of need, bitter and lonely. As she aged, she finally softened, and perhaps many of the students sorted into Hufflepuff would have been welcomed into Rowena's house with open arms. Too late did her old friend's sweetness begin to thaw her heart. How should I sort Ravenclaws today?
"Ah yes, and we come to the misunderstood Hufflepuff house. Helga did love her comforts, but she loved her people more. She may have been the least afraid of all the founders. As so many elitists over time and space, we mistake her egalitarianism for lack of discretion. She understood that a talented witch or wizard can come from anywhere, and start from anything. She was far wiser than she appeared. Her kind demeanor, unfortunately, can only long survive in this broken world as long as it is protected. Other students secretly despise Hufflepuffs, when they should be guarding that beautiful sweetness as if it is their greatest treasure. Hufflepuff's balance is so very difficult to maintain, yes, so very difficult. I have had to season the sweetness slightly, adding fighters, debators, and tricksters very carefully, not too many at a time. Every now and then Hufflepuff gains a surprise - someone who appears too ambitious for the aims of the house. Oh, but they mistake ambition! Helga's ambition was perhaps greater than the others. Instead of building high, like a tower, her dreams were broad, wide, hoping to aid as many people as possible as much as she could!
"Salazar Slytherin is the most misunderstood of all. 'Slimy Slytherins' - don't think I don't hear the names cast their way! He is mistaken even by his own progeny of thinking himself superior to Muggle-borns. He was not superior to them! He knew that Muggle-borns were often more naturally talented than the pure-bloods. He feared them! He wanted to ensure that the tide of discrimination would not flow too far in his direction, the direction of all the witches and wizards who had faced severe persecution during the time that Hogwarts was first built! His line was full of people who lived in hiding, the few who dared to emerge being caught and often tortured, back before the time of the witch-burnings, back when Muggles had some folk-magic knowledge and knew how to hurt us. Why do you think Slytherin students are resourceful, determined, and cunning? They, more than any other, desire self-preservation. What an easy slide from self-preservation to selfishness! And so Slytherin falls into ignomy. The ancient basilisk in the dungeon was not meant to purge Muggle-borns as if they were a disease. Under the control of Salazar Slytherin, the beast would merely have protected the full-bloods against the day Salazar thought was coming... the day when the half-bloods and Muggle-borns would seek to cast them out forever!
"What tragedy! Had Rowena listened with Helga's gentle heart, had Godric faced his own stubbornness and tried to tease out what troubled his friend, perhaps Salazar could have been reached. Still I do not despair of restoring that House, maintaining its nuance, banishing the lies that have choked it like weeds, and..."
The Hat trailed off, as if it had only then realized that the room was empty. It had been barely two minutes into its tirade before McGonagall had simply walked out.
"So that's it, huh?" Daniel replied, lounging in his seat. "Slytherin's founder didn't like Muggle-borns for some reason, and the others threw him out. But you guys don't seem to agree with him. You don't treat me like an inferior. Well, mostly. I can see the kind of funny look on your face, Miss Esme. It's ok, I'm kind of used to it, it doesn't bother me. But Drucy here doesn't hate anybody, does she? What if she's not in Slytherin? What if this hat thing thinks she's more like Helga Hufflepuff?"
"I..." Esme didn't want to tell him how she felt about that. The worried look in her eyes, though, told him more than she meant to say aloud. "It's not always easy to be a Slytherin-heavy family. You saw for yourself how Gryffindors treat people like us. Wherever Drucy goes, though, I'll look after her." She took a breath. "Maybe... maybe it would be better for her, to get away from it. Maybe she'd do better in Hufflepuff, near the kitchens, under the sign of the badger. Her classmates would probably be fairly forgiving. They'd want to help her fit in."
Drucy said nothing. She had already made her choice. Her sister's determination to look after her, even if she wound up in a different house, only doubled her own determination to look after her sister. Whatever this Brian fellow was up to, she was going to find out. Esme and Daniel were looking at her now, waiting to see what contribution she had to make to the conversation. A subtle change in the rocking rhythm of the train spared her. "We're slowing," she said, looking up. "We're here."
Jade shifted slightly, hidden within the collar of Drucy's school robe, as she rose. Daniel reached for his battered trunk, and Esme shook her head. He silently joined them in the corridor, the flow of students carrying them away from the train and onto the platform. Drucy swallowed, her throat suddenly dry in fear. The enormous towers of Hogwarts loomed in the distance.
"Firs' years over here... Firs' years..." At the sight of the enormous, bearded man gesturing to them with hands the size of dinner plates, Daniel's eyes widened. Drucy knew who Hagrid was and knew that he was gentle and kind, but the first sight of him was still alarming. She nudged Daniel gently and smiled at him reassuringly. As she expected, he drew himself up with a fake, cocky grin, and started heading right for the small boats waiting to take the First Years across the lake.