"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."
Minerva navigated away from the swarm of first years and took her seat next to Dumbledore at the head table. It had been a full year since the episode with Severus and she nervously set her sight on the sorting hat willing the ceremony to go off without a hitch. There was no research about the effects of obliviation on magical artifacts. What would the school do without a functioning sorting hat? She loathed the idea of having to administer a written personality test to the first years. The extra marking would push her right over the edge. Oh and the appeals to change houses! She wouldn't have it. She would sooner live as a muggle than deal with the paperwork...
For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:
I've done this job for centuries
On every student's head I've sat
Of thoughts I take inventories
For I'm the famous Sorting Hat.
But this year things are different
But please don't dare tell your parents!
So come up don't be scared
For this year I have declared
That what I need most to decide your fates
Requires you to generate
SWEET GOLDEN NECTAR
YES PEE IN MY MOUTH
OH YA THE SORTING LIKES THAT
STICK YOUR WILLY IN ME
SIT ON MY FACE
LET ME TASTE WHERE YOU BELONG
"Oh dear," Minerva muttered.
"Fuck," hissed Severus.
Dumbledore merely chuckled, the crazy old coot.