o0o0o0o

The Sorting Ceremony

After seeing Hagrid, Diagon Alley and the view of Hogwarts from the lake, Harry Potter had been certain that there were no sights left in the world which could make him speechless. Upon seeing the Great Hall of Hogwarts, he quickly remembered that this new world always found a way to prove him wrong.

The word room did not do this cavernous area justice. The walls reached upwards and upwards and yet further upwards, until they reached a ceiling that looked like it was made from the night sky itself. A swirling mass of grey clouds that shifted and twisted around themselves, occasionally parting enough to reveal a few glimmering stars in the inky darkness beyond. The ceiling was so high that Harry wasn't sure if there even was a ceiling, or if the hall simply continued upwards into the heavens.

In the air between this marvel of a roof and the ground, were thousands of candles, which floated lazily through the space above the students' heads. The walls to the left and right had three fireplaces each, huge and roaring, but these paled in comparison to the enormous hearth which sat at the far end of the hall. The flames reached high and licked at the tops of the alcoves they were contained within, but these seven fireplaces must not have had chimneys, for above them all were only towering stained-glass windows, which were so tall that they disappeared into the clouds above.

Directly in front of Harry were four long, wooden tables, which ran parallel to the line of first-years and were lined with benches of older students on either side. The tables were each covered by a different colour of tablecloth and heavy banners of the same colours hung over them from somewhere high in the clouds above. The table on the far left was covered by red and gold, its banners emblazoned with a roaring golden lion on a red field. Next to the reds was a table of yellow and black, the symbol of a black badger against yellow hanging over it. Directly to the right of Harry's group was a blue and bronze table, which sported a soaring bronze eagle on its blue banner. Next to the blue table, on the far right of the room, was a mass of green and silver. On the banners above was a twisted silver serpent against a green background.

Beyond the far end of these tables, the floor was raised a few steps up and another table was sat just in front of the fire. Here were seated a line of people, who Harry could only assume were his new teachers. At the centre point of the table, sat in a tall, golden chair, was Albus Dumbledore himself. He looked exactly how Harry would have expected an old, wise wizard to look, with long silver hair and a matching beard. He was garbed in deep purple robes and a pointy, brown hat. A pair of golden half-moon spectacles glittered on his crooked nose.

As Harry moved down the hall with the other first years, he couldn't help but notice how all talk seemed to have died upon their entrance. He could feel a hundred pairs of eyes boring into them as they walked, their footsteps echoing against the stone floor. He forced himself to keep his own eyes forward, but his legs suddenly felt like they were made of lead. It seemed to take an age for the group to reach the end of the tables, but they finally made it.

"Wait along here please," said McGonagall, turning to them, "Make sure everyone can see properly."

The first years spread out in front of the tables, ending up in a strangely shaped huddle. Harry and Daphne found themselves near the back and had to crane their necks over the heads in front of them. Professor McGonagall then strode forward, until she was right in front of Dumbledore, and slid a small stool out from under the table. She moved to the side so that everyone could see the headmaster without obstruction. The first years all watched Dumbledore in anticipation, as did the teachers around him. Harry was certain that the rest of the hall was looking in exactly the same direction. Everyone was waiting for Dumbledore to say something, but he only smiled down at them, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Suddenly, Dumbledore's hat stood straight upright, pointing directly towards the sky. A pair of small rips opened near its point and a larger one just above its brim, making it look like the hat had a face. A tattered face covered in patches, but a face nonetheless. The hat twisted from side-to-side, looking at each table in turn, before training its eyes on the first years before it. It looked like it was squinting down at them and Harry felt himself shiver under its scrutiny. Its eyes were nothing more than unnatural dark pits with emptiness behind them.

Dumbledore himself looked up at the hat which had just come to life and drew his wand. He tapped it several times on his table and then raised it like a conductor. As he did so, the rip that was the hat's mouth opened wide, as if it were taking a deep breath. Then the hat began to sing:

I forget how long ago it was,
That I was firstly worn,
Though I do remember, more than most,
The purpose I was for.

Great Gryffindor, he said to me;
"Honour you should find,
Bravery and Chivalry,
Who has these on their mind?"

Old Ravenclaw then took her turn,
"'Tis thinkers that I seek,
Those with wit, and wisdom too,
A great mind is unique."

Young Slytherin, he gave his terms,
"Ambition is my prize,
Those who go to any means,
Who aren't afraid to rise."

Good Hufflepuff, she scoffed at them,
"Your terms are far too steep,
Family and friends are what we need,
To fill this lonely keep."

I shook my head, for after all,
This is not what I do,
I look around inside your head,
That much is very true.

But I can't judge for who you are,
Or all that lies ahead,
I only see you as you are,
When you put me on your head.

Once I choose a house for you,
Your choices are your own,
I just pick a colour and,
Make sure you aren't alone.

Perhaps that makes me worthless then,
But I don't think that's true,
For when we have our little chat,
I'll offer something new.

A chance for someone, not yourself,
To understand your mind,
I'll know you more than anyone,
Who knows what I will find?

So, step up here and put me on,
Trust me when I say,
You'll know yourself far better once,
I've sent you on your way.

Dumbledore, who had been conducting with his wand, gave one last flourish and the Great Hall filled with the sound of applause. Harry clapped along with everyone else, although he didn't quite understand the song.

"So, we just have to put it on?" he asked Daphne.

"That's what it sounds like," she said thoughtfully, "It doesn't seem to like its own houses though."

As the applause died away, Dumbledore removed the hat and passed it to Professor McGonagall, who placed it on the stool in front of her. Reaching into her emerald robes, she removed a scroll of parchment, which she unravelled.

"When I call out your name," she said loudly, "You will step up here, sit on this stool and the Sorting Hat will be placed on your head. Any conversation that you have with the hat will be for your ears only. The only part it will say aloud is the house it has chosen for you. Once this happens, you are free to join your housemates at their table. Red for Gryffindors, Yellow for Hufflepuffs, Blue for Ravenclaws and Green for Slytherins."

She turned back to the scroll in her hand and cleared her throat. "Abbot, Hannah," she called.

A short girl with dirty blonde hair made her way up to the front and sat down. The hat was so large that it slipped straight down over her eyes, blocking the top of her face from view. Both the hat and the girl were silent for well over a minute, before the hat's mouth opened again and it cried, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

As the hat was removed from the girl's head, her robes shimmered for a moment and the lining suddenly turned yellow, signifying her new house. Polite applause came from most of the room, but the Hufflepuff table cheered and clapped louder than everyone else. Harry noticed that the table was much fuller than the other three and several people had to budge up for their new member to fit on the bench.

"Bones, Susan," called McGonagall.

The red-haired girl from the boat went up the steps and McGonagall placed the hat on her head. This time, it didn't quite fall over her eyes. Before Susan could be sorted, Harry felt someone tug on his arm. He turned and found Daphne looking decidedly nervous.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Potter," she said, "When you put that thing on your head, will you- um- just keep an open mind, please."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Just- you remember what Weasley said, don't you? About Slytherin?"

Harry was about to tell her that he did remember, but the words were lost in cacophony of sound, as Susan Bones joined the Hufflepuff table.

"What is this about Daphne?" asked Harry, trying to watch the sorting at the same time.

"He's wrong," she said, "About Slytherins, I mean. They- we aren't all that bad. We're not all like Malfoy. Just remember that, please."

"You- you want me to choose Slytherin?" asked Harry.

"No- well, maybe- if you can. I'm still not sure how it works, but- it's still an option for you."

As the Hall began applauding once more for Terry Boot, who had ended up in Ravenclaw, Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table. He had been planning to just let the hat pick a house for him. He was thankful enough for being a wizard, he didn't really care what colour he wore, but now that he thought about it, he had no idea which house would suit him best. He didn't feel particularly ambitious, unless you counted his going from cupboard to castle in a few months. Then again, he wasn't really that smart either. Not stupid, but nothing special. Was he brave? Not really. He had stood up to Malfoy on the train and his Uncle back home, but he'd also spent most of his childhood hiding behind little plastic men, because he thought they were stronger than he was. It seemed most likely that he would end up an average Hufflepuff, but even then, he had no idea how to function in a family environment, so he wouldn't fit in there either.

A horrible thought began to creep up on him, 'What if the hat doesn't pick a house?'

He could see it now. He was sat waiting for the hat to speak and nothing was happening. The first few laughs were ringing through the hall, as he sat there foolishly. Professor McGonagall was taking the hat off his head, telling him that there must have been some mistake and he should get back on the train. He was walking back down the hall. Malfoy and his cronies were jeering at him, Daphne was shaking her head in disappointment, Hermione was babbling on about something she read in a book about people who didn't get sorted.

"Potter?"

Harry jumped and shook himself out of his nightmare. Daphne was looking at him worriedly.

"Potter, are you all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," replied Harry, taking a deep breath.

'I'm not the boy in the cupboard any more,' he reminded himself, 'I'm the boy who lived. I'm a wizard.'

"I- uh- I didn't mean to pressure you or-" started Daphne.

"No it's not that," Harry assured her, "But, I'm not sure if I'm cut out for Slytherin anyway."

Daphne didn't look happy with that, but she turned back with Harry to watch Michael Corner become a Ravenclaw. After Stephen Cornfoot was sorted into Hufflepuff, one of the boys who had been with Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, waddled up to the stool. For once, the hat sat perfectly on his huge head. It took no more than half a minute before he was sorted into Slytherin. A girl called Tracey Davis went up next and she took a lot longer, but ended up joining the green table as well. Two more people were sorted into Hufflepuff and two into Gryffindor, before Anthony Goldstein was called forwards.

As the list got closer and closer to her, Daphne seemed to get more and more desperate. "Harry," she said, "Really think about it, will you? I- I think you'd do fine in Slytherin."

"Why do you want me in Slytherin so badly?" asked Harry.

"It's com-" she stopped at a look from Harry and sighed, "It is complicated. My father wants me to meet people he thinks are going to be important. Normally that would mean Malfoy, but you're just as important- no, more so."

"So you just want to be friends with me because I'm famous?" asked Harry, remembering how Hagrid had warned him about parents setting up friendships with him.

"No, of course not," said Daphne indignantly, "In case you've forgotten, we were getting along fine before you dropped that bombshell on us. I just didn't think my father would approve, now I know he definitely would approve."

"So why do I need to be in Slytherin?" asked Harry, he was sick of not understanding, "We still go to the same school don't we? Why does it matter what colour we wear?"

Daphne gaped at him, "You really have no idea how this works do you?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment another name was called.

"Granger, Hermione."

o0o0o0o

After returning the lost toad to its owner, who they'd found out was called Neville Longbottom, Ron and Hermione had ended up sharing a boat with him and had been separated from Harry and Daphne by a crowd of eleven-year-olds. When she wasn't gawking at the sights with everyone else, Hermione had been reciting every bit of magic she had learned before arriving, making sure she was ready for whatever test they had to perform.

Suffice to say that she was understandably annoyed when she found out that the test was nothing more than putting a hat on one's head. She waited politely for the people before her to be sorted, but inside she was a bundle of nerves. She kept bouncing on her heels and fidgeting, and she could tell that it was making Ron, who was stood next to her, even more nervous.

"Granger, Hermione," called McGonagall.

She squeaked, whether in excitement or fear she didn't know, and almost ran up to the stool. She sat down straight-backed, looking directly ahead. The hat slid down to just above her eyes, but her hair stopped it falling any further.

"Well, well, another muggle-born," said a voice in her ear.

She jumped. The voice didn't seem to come from anywhere at all, yet she definitely heard it in her ears and not her head.

"What a mind this is," said the hat, "So quick. Yes, I am speaking to you with sound, though I could-"

'-speak like this if you prefer.'

Hermione jumped again. The voice- no, it wasn't a voice. It was her own thoughts. She had thought that herself, but it had not been in her voice. It was alien and intrusive, like someone had hijacked her own inner self.

"An apt description," said the hat normally, "You have the makings of a Ravenclaw in you, but let us not jump to conclusions. Yes, yes there is something else here- a fire burning inside you. Passion and drive, ambition and pride, oh you are a difficult one."

'Is that bad?' wondered Hermione.

"Not bad," said the hat, "Merely more time-consuming. There's a stubbornness to you as well, though it is not impatience. You would do well in Gryffindor I'm sure, perhaps as well as you would in Ravenclaw. Oh, but so many ideas- such possibility! I have no doubt you would benefit from Slytherin. You haven't the cunning, but there are the seeds for it to develop here."

'What about Hufflepuff?' asked Hermione.

"Hufflepuff?" chuckled the hat, "The House of The Many? Oh no, my dear girl that would never do for you. You need an environment of learning, ambition, individuality. Unless- is that a personal preference? No, I see that it isn't, you simply wish to hear my opinion. A very careful approach. Logical."

The hat then went silent and Hermione waited patiently. Occasionally, she would feel a memory get pulled to the forefront of her mind or a wave of some emotion would pass through her briefly.

"Not Slytherin," the hat finally decided, "Too much honour in you. Too stubborn. That leaves us with Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, any preferences?"

'Oh- um-' she began.

"No? Very well, I can decide," said the hat.

'But I didn't finish,' protested Hermione, 'You interrupted me.'

"Apologies," said the hat, not sounding apologetic at all, "I already knew that you would leave the decision to me. I could allow you to finish next time, if you prefer."

'How could you know that for certain? I might have changed my mind.'

"You did change it," noted the hat, "I knew that too. There was a brief moment where you considered Ravenclaw, but you decided to leave it up to me in the end. I am inside your head, your thoughts are my thoughts, and I can think far faster than you. I see the slightest doubt, the smallest change in your thought process, the tiniest influence of a memory on your emotions."

'And you still can't decide on a house?' asked Hermione.

"The mind is a complex thing," it said, though it sounded like an excuse, "Yours far less so however."

'What does that mean?' asked Hermione, 'Is this hat saying I'm stupid?'

"Not stupid. Close-minded. You are logical and firm. Stubborn in your beliefs and goals. Everything here is organised perfectly into a pattern you recognise. Not impressionable in the slightest. I can use this control you have to my advantage. To me, you are like an open book, at least in comparison to other minds."

'I don't understand,' Hermione admitted.

"But you want to, don't you? Yes, there's a deep thirst for knowledge inside you. You want- no, you need to understand."

The hat went quiet again.

"Very well. If we are done, then I have made my decision."

Hermione didn't even have time to reply before the hat shouted:

"RAVENCLAW!"

Hermione frowned, but the hat was pulled from her head before she could argue. Looking down, she saw that the Ravenclaw crest had appeared on her breast pocket. She made her way to the left, where her new housemates were applauding her loudly. She found herself a seat as close to the front as possible and ended up sat next to a first-year boy with long black hair. She turned back to the front just in time to see Daphne making her way towards the stool.

o0o0o0o

"RAVENCLAW!"

Hermione Granger had just been sorted, which meant that Daphne was probably next. She had done all she could to convince Potter that joining Slytherin was a good idea, but she still turned to him and whispered urgently, "Please, just think about what I said."

Before the raven-haired boy could reply, McGonagall had shouted out her name and she was pushing through the crowd. She climbed the steps and sat on the stool, waiting for what she knew would be a futile conversation. The hat was placed on her head and fell to her nose, smothering her in darkness.

"Oh, another one of you is it," said an annoyed voice.

'Excuse me,' thought Daphne.

"You heard me girl," said the hat, "You who think you already know what house you're in. Weasleys, Malfoys, Ollivanders, Greengrasses; you all think that you know exactly where you should be. Well, I won't let you just run off like that, we are going to sit and talk like I do with everyone else."

'Well, we both know that I'm going to be in Slytherin. There's no point dragging it out.'

"Be quiet and let me look," complained the hat, "Strange mind, you have. Powerful actually. Would you mind loosening up a bit? I'm finding it difficult to read you here."

'I'm not doing anything.' said Daphne, unsure what the hat was talking about.

"No? Oh, I see. That is peculiar," said the hat, "Well now, I haven't seen a mind like this since that fellow with the smile."

'What?' asked Daphne, confused.

"It doesn't matter. I didn't tell him, I won't tell you either. You can find out for yourself. Oh, but this is confounding. Is there nothing you can do to make this easier for me? Otherwise, we might have a hatstall on our hands here."

'You can't read my mind?' asked Daphne. This could be useful information.

"Of course I can. It's just more difficult to get started with than most, although thank you for that lovely entrance you just provided. You're quite right that it would be useful, if that thought in itself wasn't so inherently cunning. Now then, let's see."

The hat went quiet. It stayed quiet for what must have been over three minutes before speaking again.

"What is your opinion on Ravenclaw?"

'Ravenclaw?' she thought, surprised, 'What about-'

"Slytherin? Yes, I'm in quite the pickle here. I can throw out Hufflepuff as an option immediately. You're far too individual, not nearly loyal enough to anything. I might consider Gryffindor, you're definitely brave enough and you know how to speak your mind, but honour is too abstract a concept to you. That leaves Ravenclaw and Slytherin. To be quite honest, you would do just as well in both, although I believe I already know your preference."

'It's not-' she started.

"I know it isn't a personal preference," said the hat, "But your mind is still set on it. I won't keep you any longer then. SLYTHERIN!"

The hat was pulled from her head and she smiled as the green and silver table erupted in cheers. She noticed that the Gryffindor table was being very silent. She made her way to her fellow Slytherins, steering as far away from the hulking forms of Crabbe and Goyle as possible. She slipped into a seat on her own, next to a group of third-years who ignored her completely, and watched as Wayne Hopkins joined the Hufflepuff table.

'What was the hat talking about?' she wondered, 'Is there something wrong with my mind?' The idea seemed preposterous, she had always achieved well in the tests her father had set her and everyone said that she was an excellent judge of character, sometimes eerily so.

Speaking of which, she was worried about Potter. She hoped that she had gotten through to him, but it seemed unlikely. She'd had a very bad feeling about him ever since he'd stood up to Malfoy on the train, he acted far too much like a Gryffindor. It was a shame really, since she had genuinely enjoyed the company of Potter, Granger and Weasley. She couldn't remember the last time she'd said that about anyone. It had been immediately obvious that the other two were never going to reach Slytherin though, since one was a Weasley and the other was a mudblood.

'Muggle-born,' she corrected silently.

She watched a few other people get sorted, including the toad boy who, to her great surprise, ended up in Gryffindor. Soon, it was time for Malfoy to be sorted. She swore that the hat took no longer than twenty seconds before it sent him to Slytherin along with her. He made quite the show of it as he strutted over to where Crabbe and Goyle had been saving him a seat. Daphne began admiring the silver plate in front of her in an attempt to hide her face from him.

Eventually, she plucked up the courage to watch the sorting again. The horse-faced boy she'd crossed the lake with was currently sat beneath the hat, but he was soon sent to Ravenclaw. He was followed by a short girl with dark hair and a pug-like face, Pansy Parkinson. This was the other person Daphne had wanted to avoid on the train and she really wasn't looking forward to sharing a dorm with that girl. Sure enough, the hat soon sent Pansy off to Slytherin as well.

After Parkinson were a pair of girls who looked too identical to be anything other than twins. They were quickly separated and sent to Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. After them came the moment of truth. Daphne leaned forward on the bench in anticipation.

"Potter, Harry."

o0o0o0o

When Professor McGonagall read out his name, Harry was heavily reminded of the reaction he'd received in the Leaky Cauldron, but this was on a much bigger scale. A buzz of whispering passed through the hall and Harry caught what a few of those closest to him were saying.

"Potter? Did she-"

"The Harry Potter? The boy who lived?"

"-heard he was dead. Dead along with You-Know-Who."

The first years began to move to the sides and Harry suddenly found himself at the end of a corridor between two lines of wide-eyed faces. If he had felt like everyone was watching him before, then it was nothing compared to now. The eyes of hundreds were all fixed directly on him, waiting for him to move. Swallowing his fear, Harry walked forwards, feeling the weight of every gaze in the room on his shoulders. He spotted Ron near the front and the redhead gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up.

All of a sudden, Harry was in front of everyone, climbing up the stairs towards the hat. Out of the corners of his eyes, he could see that several teachers looked just as surprised as the students, but Professor Dumbledore was smiling at him warmly. Something about the smile reminded him of Hagrid and Harry felt a rush of confidence.

He sat down on the stool and faced the hall. He glimpsed three-hundred pairs of eyes staring right at him, before they vanished and were replaced by darkness, as the hat was slipped over his head like a blindfold.

"Now then, what have we here?" said a voice.

'Um- hello?' thought Harry.

"Hello there," said the hat enthusiastically, "Do you know, you're the first person to actually greet me today. What a refreshing surprise."

'Is that good?' wondered Harry.

"It is neither good nor bad, like most things," replied the hat, "At the very least, it is good manners. Not something I have come to expect from new students. I wonder if that will play into your sorting."

'How does this work then?'

"Well that's an interesting question, actually," said the hat, "Perhaps you'd like to start us off. Do you have a house in mind?"

Harry's eyes flicked left, to where he knew Daphne would be sitting at the Slytherin table. He recalled her worried face, the plea in her eyes.

'We're not all like Malfoy. Just remember that, please.'

Her face shifted into a sneer and Malfoy's voice replaced hers.

'You know what? I really don't care who you are. You just need to know that you aren't as important as I am.'

"Conflict," commented the hat, "Your mind is riddled with it. Much of it not even your own."

Harry suddenly felt memories rushing through his mind, like a slide show on fast forward. There was Ron Weasley looking disgusted at his corned beef sandwich, followed by Hermione Granger's smile after she fixed his glasses, then there was the sneering faces of the Dursleys, now the respect shining in Hagrid's eyes. The images became a blur, but phrases continued to flash through his mind one-by-one.

'Don't want to let your fellow snakes know that you might actually be a decent person.'

'I'm sure you could have learned it if you'd tried.'

'I'll be damned if I let my family be dragged in along with you!'

'S' an outrage is what it is, a scandal.'

'We can expect great things from this wand.'

"Stop, I've seen enough," said the hat calmly and the flow of memories ceased almost immediately, "Well, that was enlightening. It is as I said, this conflict in your mind is not of your own making. Rather, it has been planted by others around you. This makes it very difficult."

'Why?' thought Harry.

"Because you cannot decide who you are," said the hat bluntly, "You are a very brave lad, but there is a part of you that always wants to hide. You have intelligence, but you are indecisive. You have loyalty, but nothing to give it to. You would have ambition, if you did not have such a low opinion of yourself."

The hat went quiet for a few seconds and Harry began to worry that it was gone. 'Hello?' he thought.

"Give me a moment, if you please," said the hat irritably.

The hat needed more than a moment, taking at least two minutes before it spoke again.

"Well, I don't think I've met anyone this muddled up in some time," the hat sounded almost pleased with the difficulty. Harry was reminded of Mr Ollivander picking out a wand for him.

"Who are you?" asked the hat abruptly.

'Harry Potter.'

"Are you, though? Are you Harry Potter or Just Harry? The boy in the cupboard or the boy who lived? A coward or a leader? One moment you'll say you are one, when you're actually the other, and by the time you've truly become what you say you are, you're telling yourself you're something different entirely. What are you really? Do you even know yourself?"

'I'm a wizard,' Harry responded without pause.

"And what does that mean to you?" asked the hat.

Harry mulled that one over a bit longer. His thoughts turned to the leader of his army. Strong, resolute and commanding, but also kind, shielding Harry from his night time terrors.

"Bravery," noted the hat, "Honour. A will of iron. The strength to overcome your fears and- oh- oh, what is this. Hidden in the darkest corners of your mind, something I haven't seen in a long time."

A deep, powerful voice suddenly rang through Harry's mind, 'Peace. I am not what you should fear.'

"Well," said the hat, "I still don't think your conflicts are resolved, but it is clear that there is only one place for you. Do you know where that is?"

'Yes,' thought Harry, and he did. He didn't know how, but he did.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat vanished from in front of him, giving way to the bright lights and sounds of the Great Hall. The cheering was particularly loud for him and he probably could have found his way to the Gryffindor table even if he was blind.

A Gryffindor boy with dreadlocks had just jumped onto the bench with two identical looking redheads either side of him. All three of them were punching the air and chanting, "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!"

Harry found a seat further away from them, feeling a bit queasy. He ended up sat between Sir Nicholas the ghost and a familiar red-haired prefect. Looking down, he saw that the lining of his robes had already changed from black to scarlet.

"Welcome to Gryffindor, Harry," said the redhead importantly, "I'm Percy Weasley, the new Gryffindor Prefect. We met on the platform, do you remember." He puffed out his chest as he said this, showing off his shiny badge.

Harry, suppressing his laughter, said, "I know who you are. I spent the train-ride sat with your brother."

"Oh, which one?" he asked, "Ron, I suppose."

"Yeah," said Harry, "And I suppose that's Fred and George." He nodded at the two who had been chanting.

"Yes," said Percy with distaste, "I'm sorry about that, they can be overenthusiastic at times."

Harry nodded and turned to the ghost beside him, "Hello, Sir Nicholas," he said politely.

"Good heavens," said the ghost, "Hello to you too, Mr Potter. I must say you caught me by surprise. Very few people know my real name and even fewer care to use it."

"Why not?" asked Harry.

"Why? Because everyone insists on referring to me as Nearly-Headless Nick, that's why."

"Why would-" Harry began, but he was cut off by the sound of his housemates jumping up and cheering again. Apparently, someone else had just joined Gryffindor. Harry clapped and cheered along with everyone else, feeling a lot better than he had during his talk with the hat.

He, Percy and Sir Nicholas watched quietly as Lisa Turpin was sent to Hufflepuff. They were reaching the bottom of the list now and there were only two first years left to be sorted, a tall boy with dark skin and Ron Weasley.

o0o0o0o

Ron had watched as Hermione Granger was sorted into Ravenclaw and Daphne Greengrass into Slytherin, and he hadn't been surprised with either result. He didn't really mind that they wouldn't be in his house, either. Hermione was a bit of a know-it-all and Greengrass was- well, a Greengrass. He was glad that Harry had ended up in Gryffindor though, at least there would be someone in his dormitory that he knew he could get along with.

"Weasley, Ronald," called McGonagall.

Ron stepped up to the front table and sat on the stool, suddenly feeling quite self-conscious in front of the entire school. Before he got it into his head to panic however, the hat was put on and the hall was gone.

"Hmm, another Weasley," said a voice, "You're always so tricky to place."

'What?' thought Ron, 'No we aren't.'

"What? You think that because you all end up in Gryffindor, that means I just toss you in there without thinking?"

That had indeed been what Ron had thought would happen to him.

"Of course you did," sighed the hat, before going quiet for a minute or two.

"Hmm- You have quite the mind here. Well put together. A bit stubborn, but not enough that you can't learn. However, it's all hidden under this blanket of insecurities."

'What's that supposed to mean?' thought Ron testily.

"Inferiority," said the hat simply, "It's everywhere here. Mainly from your brothers, but- oh- oh no that's- ah I see. That is interesting, you're- but no, I won't spoil the surprise."

'What?' asked Ron.

"Never mind that. Let's take a look at your brothers. Fred and George, those two were interesting to place. They aren't as identical on the inside I've found, more like two halves which fit together perfectly. You can imagine their surprise when I thought to put them in Slytherin."

'You what?' thought Ron, aghast at the idea of a Weasley in Slytherin.

"Oh yes, they were quite surprised themselves, but rather open to the idea actually. Unlike Percy, he nearly had a panic attack when I dared to even mention that house."

'You tried to put Percy into Slytherin?'

"Yes, but that isn't important right now. Charlie I actually did send straight to Gryffindor. It really was the only house for him. Then there was Bill, you remind of him the most. Loyal to your family, determined to do better for yourself, that strong honourable streak that hides under everything."

'What's the point to this?' thought Ron. He already knew he had a lot to live up to in his brothers, he didn't need this hat to remind him.

"That's my point," said the hat triumphantly, "You constantly feel like you need to live up to your brothers. You need to be funny. You need to be ambitious. You need to be brave. You need to be popular."

The hat paused to let this sink in.

"What do you want to be, Ron Weasley?"

Ron thought about that for a moment, and the hat immediately began to dissect those thoughts for him.

"You want to be better than all of them? Quite ambitious, but I don't think that's the whole story. Popularity? No, that's still too selfish, this isn't something you want for yourself- oh, I see. Well, that really only leaves one place for you."

'But I didn't say anything,' complained Ron.

"Your mind told me everything I needed to know," argued the hat, "Your loyalty to your family and your need to stand out from your brothers. I see only one place where these can lead to the greatness you deserve."

'Where?' wondered Ron.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"