A Hat's Decision

During chapter 34, afternoon, Headmaster's office

The last sorting had been only a few days ago. Or so it felt to the Sorting Hat, resting on one of the overflowing shelves in the Headmaster's office.

Like other years before, he had now started working on the new version of the sorting song he composed each year. If he was honest, he tended to recycle older versions after two decades. After all, the subject he sang about did not change, ever. Sometimes he felt he needed to emphasise a particular part, like school unity, but most of the time he only needed to update the language he was using.

Most of his amusement the Sorting Hat got from listening to the conversations that were held in the circular office. He had heard quite a few reports from Severus Snape – he remembered the anxious eleven-year-old boy, hoping against hope that he would be placed with his friend – the man that had developed a special brand of bravery. If he had had someone to bet with, he would have liked to place a wager that the Potions Master had changed sides again.

But oddly enough, no one ever asked his opinion outside of the placement of the new students into the four houses. Even though he was sitting here, listening in on discussions between the Headmaster and all his guests, and had sat on the head of every single student to pass through these halls. One would think someone would realize what a wealth of knowledge he had amassed over the hundreds of years he had existed.

The portraits of the old Headmasters and Headmistresses were talking animatedly with one another. One of them had been out on a stroll through the school, walking from picture to picture, and when he had come back he had quite the story to tell them. It was Friday but all corridors were empty. The staff in the staff room and all the students in the common rooms. They all were curious why that was.

Feigning disinterest – like he did so often – the hat sat in his place next to one big clear crystal, waiting for Albus to come back here. In time he would learn what this commotion was about, he was sure of it.

It took almost until lunch time for any human to make an appearance. Their arrival was heralded by the rumbling of the gargoyle moving out of the way and the stairs moving several persons up to the office.

The portraits ceased their conversation, many falling into a pretend sleep – like they were prone to do – and the Sorting Hat shuffled a little on the shelf to get a better vantage point onto the desk and the visitors' chairs. Maybe he would get to know what all the fuss was about earlier than he had thought.

The door opened and the Headmaster in his colourful robes stepped through, followed by a shorter wizard in what could only be called respectable robes.

"Come in, come in, Mr. Everard. Take a seat. May I offer you a lemon drop?" Albus ushered the other wizard in, talking in a voice that all who did not know him for so many years as the Hat did would think was cheerful. A few of the creases higher up from the brim moved. Why was the Headmaster nervous?

"Mr. Everard? From the Everards of Plymouth?" One of the portraits pretending to sleep sat forward in the chair he had been painted in, obviously interested in the man walking over to one of the comfortable visitors' chairs.

The younger – and alive – Mr. Everard turned so he could look up to the portrait and gave a deep bow to his ancestor. "Yes, sir. If I'm not mistaken, you are my great-great-grandfather."

A smile graced the painted face. "It is nice to make your acquaintance. Don't let me interfere with your business."

Two more bows were traded, and then the Headmaster and his guest took seats at the desk.

"I'm not sure what you really want to do here, Johnson. I can't see how this most obscure bylaw can possibly be applied to the situation we have here…" Before the Headmaster could develop any momentum he was interrupted.

"It is my duty as a member of the board to bring the matter before the Sorting Hat and deliver the hat's assessment to the student, and the family, in question. So if you would please bring the Sorting Hat here?"

Now the Hat was intrigued. There were only a handful of bylaws that would require his involvement. And he was quite certain that most of them had been forgotten. So for which one would his assistance be required?

The Headmaster got his wand out of his robe while the Hat shuffled to the edge of the board he was sitting on. Being summoned was not really fun, so being nearer his destination was a good idea.

Soaring through the air, the Sorting Hat landed in the old wrinkled hand of the Headmaster and was set down gently on the wooden surface of the desk, facing in the direction of Mr. Johnson Everard.

With a little bow from the neck – bowing was never easy sitting down – the wizard addressed the Sorting Hat with the proper respect. "I came here to bring forward the case of the student Henry James Slytherin to get your assessment whether a re-evaluation of his placement is in the realm of possibilities."

Slowly wiggling his tip in thought, the Hat finally had to ask. "I do not remember sorting a student by the name of Henry James Slytherin in the last decade. In fact, I'm reasonably sure that it has been over a hundred years since I last sorted any student by the name of Slytherin."

It was not phrased as a question but it seemed to be clear enough for the man posing the request in the first place. "As the student was adopted this summer and carried another name when he entered the school, I would not expect you to remember him by this name."

"Very well. Please tell me in what way the student was affected that you consider a re-evaluation of his placement might prove beneficial." It was not often that someone would think of asking for this, but most interesting was the reaction of the Headmaster to this request. Why was he so nervous about this? One single student and his placement was more or less insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

With a clear and calm demeanour Mr. Johnson started to lay out the facts. "The student Harry James Potter was entered into the Tournament taking place last year against his will. He was forced to compete against three others. The papers wrote slanderous articles, and the school's population was picking on him. At the end of the Tournament he was kidnapped by portkey from school grounds. A Hufflepuff student by the name of Cedric Diggory was kidnapped with him and killed before his very eyes. He was forced to participate in a dark ritual, bringing back the wizard known to many as You-Know-How, managed to duel a grown wizard to a kind of standstill, and to escape. The Ministry did not believe his tale and the slander continued. Since then he has been adopted by the newly recognized Tom Marvolo Riddle – now Lord Slytherin – and has learned that he is now the heir to two powerful and important families." The man took a deep breath before he continued. "Since the start of term there have been many pranks, one instance of poisoning, sending Mr. Slytherin to the infirmary for one night, and a murder attempt only yesterday evening. The fact he searched for sanctuary in the Slytherin common room, suggests that he does not feel safe in his own house anymore."

The Headmaster took the third lemon drop since he had entered the office with its small silver instruments, happily puffing their smoke out in tiny clouds, but the Hat concentrated on the man before him.

It was quite the list of events that was presented for him here. So Tom Riddle, who had become Voldemort and killed the Potters only to be bested by their infant son, now was back and had adopted the child, claiming the title in the process.

Of course he had known that the Potter child was descended from the Slytherin family. Not only his natural cunning and the fact he was a parselmouth had been factors leading him to consider placing him in Slytherin House.

Were these events life-changing enough to make the child eligible for a re-placement? The Sorting Hat hummed to himself. Considering that the child had been between two Houses and only his fervent wish not to be a Slytherin had tipped the scales, these events could have tipped the scales in favour of not being a Gryffindor. For one, learning that he was Heir and what that entailed might further a more political mind.

They certainly were profound enough to counter the effects of living as a Gryffindor for a little over four years. If the child really wanted to change his House, his narrow placement in Gryffindor and the events of the past year were enough to open the possibility to him.

"If Mr. Slytherin wants to ask me for a re-evaluation, he may do so." The Sorting Hat spoke in a grave voice, sinking back into contemplation.

Why did Albus Dumbledore fear the possibility of the former Harry Potter being placed in another House than Gryffindor? Would the boy ask for a re-sorting? Why had Tom Riddle decided to claim the Slytherin name, now of all possible times?

While the Sorting Hat was placed back on his shelf next to the crystal and the visitor left, the Hat came to the conclusion that this visit had brought more questions than answers. At least he now knew that an auror investigation was the cause for the empty halls earlier in the day.

Now he had a song to compose. If the boy would come to place the Sorting Hat on his head once again, only time would tell. But he was nothing if not patient.

Thanks to Jordre and Jake for helping to improve my spelling!

First published on the 21st of Octobre