Harry walked towards the stool with the hat on it, feeling the coldness settle over him. He watched the stern old professor pick up the hat from the refuge of the coldness. He sat and the hat was put on his head, almost covering his eyes.
.

Then Harry felt something join him in the coldness, and voice spoke in his head. "Why, hello there Harry Potter. Oh, it's been a long long time since I've seen one such as you."

Harry blinked and thought at the voice, "Why are you in my head? How did you get past the coldness?"

The Hat seemed to almost laugh, and replied "Why, Master Potter, I must sort you, of course... And to sort you, I see all of you, from the deepest depths to the soaring heights of your soul. But you, Master Potter, I will have a hard time sorting."

Harry grimaced, and asked back "And why is that, Mr Hat? I'm just a boy, like all the others!"

Again the amusement blossomed within his mind, and the Hat responded, almost laughing "Now, now, Master Potter, we both know that isn't true at all, is it? And trying to seem innocent by calling me Mr Hat? Well, I will give you points for trying. But now, to the far more pressing question – to which House shall you go, Master Potter?"

.

"Shall it be Hufflepuff, Master Potter? Or perhaps Ravenclaw? Slytherin, maybe? Gryffindor? Tell me, Master Potter, what do you think your sorting should be, and no holding back now, for I know what you are..."
Harry would have gulped if not for the coldness that was settled over him, keeping his body sitting straight backed and almost stone faced on the stool as time ticked by, and the hall looked on. "Not hold back at all? Are you sure, 'Mr' Hat? Do you really want MY opinion?"

.

"But of course, Master Potter! For one such as you, it has to be this way! How else could you be sorted?" The Hat shifted on Harry's head, and continued, "First, let us talk about the Sorting, Master Potter. Ignore the idiotic song I sang, ignore everything you heard on the way here. Then follow my voice past what you call 'the coldness', and look into me, and see where you could go, and why, and then Master Potter, you must choose. That, Master Potter, will be your sorting... And a grand sorting it will be, such a sorting as hasn't happened in centuries!"

.

Harry froze and carefully asked "I have to go beyond the coldness? Into your mind? No! That can't be a good idea! I don't want to!"
The Hat calmly answered "Why? I can't harm you, and I can't tell anybody of what happens here. I will forget all of the details after I am taken off you head. What can it hurt? Or shall we simply sit here for the rest of the night, as the others watch? Well, Master Potter? Shall we get on with it?"

Harry thought back "I have to do this don't I? It's the only way I'll get sorted, and everybody will stop staring? …..Then let's do it now..."

.

The Hat's presence in Harry's mind slowly seemed to expand, as the Hat whispered "Do you feel that, Master Potter? Close your eyes, and follow it, as it moves away. Don't stop, and keep following until I say not to. Now, let us begin, Master Potter! Your Sorting awaits!"
Slowly, the Hat's presence seemed to back away, and Harry 'pushed' his mind after it, and for a second, he felt like he was tasting colours, and hearing smells. Then he came up against the coldness, and hesitated for a split second, before rushing after the Hat's presence. Going through the coldness felt strange, in a way Harry knew he would never be able to describe, and then Harry was within the Hat's mind, if it could be called that. Everything was different, and there seemed to be four parts, all connect to a fifth, in which Harry lingered.

.

Suddenly, the Hat's 'voice' seemed to surround him, in a comforting thunder, "So Master Potter. Look at the houses, and the possibilities, and make your choice! Let your Sorting begin!"
Harry looked at the first of the possibilities, and he felt it, and saw the yearning for knowledge, the fascination with the connections between various pieces of that knowledge, and the urge to investigate things and see just why things happened. For what seemed like mere moments, Harry saw what that could make him, the good or the bad, and he looked away, and he knew that the House of Ravenclaw was almost definitely not for him.

.

Harry looked at another, and felt the boundless patience, the calm acceptance to chip away at a mountain forever if need be, the undying loyalty that once given would never be broken, and Harry's breath held for a moment, and he asked the Hat "Tell me more about this one, please?" and was annoyed when the Hat replied "Not until you have looked at them all."

So, Harry promised himself that he would look at it again, and moved onto the next.

.

The first thing that struck Harry about this one was the drive to excel. The core of burning ambition that fuelled everything else about the House of Slytherin. The willingness to burn bridges, to lose friends, to dirty themselves if need be, to achieve something. The wish to be great, forever - for Harry, the wish to hold power, to never ever be subjugated again, and even more than the Hufflepuff, it took his breath away. Harry could barely move on to the next, he was so fascinated with Slytherin's House.

.

Last, he saw the fourth House, and the iron rod of courage, wrapped with a will to do what was right, no matter the cost. He saw the want to challenge things, to stand up and fight, to carry the banner forward into battle. He saw himself standing against the world, on a dare, just because he could. He looked deeper into the Hat's vision of Gryffindor's House, and he stared for what seemed like ages, entranced at the possibilities that were offered by the House of Gryffindor.

.

"So, Master Potter! What do you think? Aren't you grateful I told you to wait until you saw them all? Besides, why would I have to tell you anything at all? It was all right there..."

Harry sighed, and replied "I could like it in Hufflepuff's House, couldn't I? It would be great. I'd have friends for life, wouldn't I? It would be brilliant..."

The amusement from the Hat grew, and it said "Yes, it would be. You would like it. Love it, even. But you already know the answer to 'Do I want to go into Hufflepuff?', don't you?"
Harry grimaced, "Yeah, I guess so. Okay, so neither Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Now what? I don't know how to choose between the next two."

.

The Hat went silent for a moment, before becoming very serious. "Slytherin could make you great, you know. You'd be envied, looked up to, by the world. You'd become strong and powerful. You'd never again sleep in a cupboard with only the spiders to keep you company. I see you, Master Potter, and I know you want it. You want it so badly I can almost taste it."

"Or, you could go to Gryffindor, and follow the other part of you heart. You want to be like those story book heroes. You want to be good and just and strong in another way, not the strength that you'd learn in Slytherin. But now Master Potter, you must choose, for now, you are the only one that can place you..."

.

The indecision was almost painful, and Harry turned from one option to the other time and time again, looking into the depths of each choice. Then Harry had a thought and turned back to the Hat. Harry asked plaintively "Do I have to be in one or the other? Can't I somehow be both?"

The Hat laughed delightedly "Why Master Potter! Well done! Well done indeed! Now that you have asked that question, let me ask you one! Why can't you be both, even if you are sorted to one or the other?"
Harry distantly felt his eyes open, blink, and then shut again, as he concentrated on the Hat's 'mind'. "But, but... Why even sort us then? I mean, if we can be any of them, why sort us?"

The Hat's delight seemed to grow, and it answered "Now you have asked the question, I can answer. Let me show you something..."

.

For a moment, Harry was puzzled, and then the Hat flooded his mind with feelings and Harry knew about the Houses, and how not even one in a ten ever became more than an average student, focussed on the areas that their house was known for. How every house suffered from their own stereotypes, Ravenclaw thinking only of grades and tests and exams, Hufflepuff playing at games of loyalty never looking at what they should work hard at, Slytherin dominated by those who imagined themselves ambitious, and Gryffindor thinking petty stupidity was bravery and daring.

.

Harry reeled at the assault of knowledge and emotion, and sighed. "Fine. I get it now. But why only me? Why not any of the others? I'm only eleven!"

"Why Master Potter, surely you can figure it out? You have 'the coldness', and soon you'll learn more, and understand better. Why, I'll tell you what, Master Potter – when you realise just why it's only you, just call, and you can wear me again, and we shall talk again! Now, Master Potter, let us return to your mind, shall we?"

.

The Hat again led the way, and Harry returned to within the coldness, and felt his own relief after the second of oddness of getting used to being in his own head again. "So, Master Potter! Where shall it be?"

"Well 'Mr Hat', if I go to Slytherin, I'll have to deal with that boy from the train that reminded me of Dudley, right? And I already know Neville in Gryffindor, we met on the train. So Gryffindor, I guess. I can't change my mind after this can I, 'Mr Hat'?"

The Hat felt amused and laughed in Harry's head, which felt very odd, and said "No Master Potter, there'll be no going back, so... Let's do this, shall we? So for you, Master Potter, I sort you to... Gryffindor!"

.

Harry almost jumped at the loud shout from the Hat, and felt it plucked from his head. For half a second there was silence, and then one of the tables erupted in noise, cheering, and screaming. Harry walked to the table and sat to down, trying not to shy away from the many people slapping him on the back and shouting to him. It was nearly overwhelming, even with the insulation of the coldness.

.

.

When the table had settled down and rest of the sorting was done, the food finally finished and everybody escorted to their new dormitories, Harry lay in his bed and thought how much things had changed since the first letter had come. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep, to dream dreams of power, bravery and magic...