Sorted
For once, Severus Snape was glad that Albus had given him a password to get into the Headmaster's office. The old man was nowhere to be seen, and Severus let out a sigh of relief. The Headmaster spent his Sundays at the Hog's Head Inn visiting someone "important" so Severus knew that he'd have at least a few hours undisturbed.
He felt bad about doing this while the old man was out, but it couldn't be helped. He had to take this chance. This year was going to be hard enough as it was, without him having to worry about an extra bit of bullshit.
"Surely you don't mean to put me on," The Sorting Hat said from the corner, where it hung on a hook.
"I'm not here to make the phoenix cry, I'll tell you that," Severus replied snidely.
Truth be told, he hated magical objects that talked. They had enough of a mind to think they knew better than others, but not enough of a brain to understand their limitations. They were often spelled to sound clever without actually telling people what they needed to know.
And the ones that spoke in riddles were the worst.
"The only advice I have to give
If you wear the Sorting Hat
Is that I can only see your mind
Even a dunderhead knows that."
"Ugh, just shut it already!" Severus hissed as he pulled the singing headwear from the hook. "Don't make me rip you apart thread by thread."
Looking at the ugly thing with a sneer of disdain, he put the Hat on his head.
"And here I was, thinking you might have been a good Ravenclaw, but that was really quite the opposite of clever," the Hat replied from on top of his head. "And you're terrible at threatening people. I can tell that, and I'm not even a person. You should have been a Hufflepuff."
"Shut up!" Severus yelled, forcing himself to dig his fingers into his legs instead of ripping the hat off of his head. "Now, read my mind. I'm going to show you a very specific image and you are going to look at that and that alone, and then I'm going to tell you what you are going to do."
"I don't really think you really ought to be telling me what to do," The Hat replied indignantly, "I do have the ear of Albus Dumbledore, the strongest wizard in the world, and your boss, if I'm remembering properly."
"Hmph, that doesn't scare me," Severus replied. "If he kills me, it'll just put me out of my misery."
The Hat appeared to think on this for a long moment before replying. "I could horrify you instead. After all, the Headmaster does often like prancing around in his office wearing his softest wooly socks-"
"That's not horrify-ow!"
"Don't interrupt," the Hat said, squeezing Severus' head until he let out a pained grunt. "As I was about to say, he prances around in his socks...and nothing else."
Severus let out a horrified gasp. "You wouldn't."
"I am but a simple Sorting Hat,
Without much of a brain,
But even I can tell that sight,
Might drive a man insane."
The Sorting Hat let out a high pitched laugh that was partially in Severus' mind and partially echoed in the Headmaster's office. Fawkes ruffled his feathers and made a disparaging squawking noise. He obviously wasn't a fan of the noise either.
"Now you listen here you little-"
"No, Severus Tobias Snape of Spinner's End. You listen to me," The Sorting Hat's whispery voice filled his head and he felt himself falling into his memories. The Hat's Legilimency plucked him out of his present-day state and shoved him into his tiny six-year-old body as his father chased him angrily through the house with a bottle in one hand. Though Severus knew it wasn't real, the surge of fear made his heart race and his breathing was labored as he tried to calm himself to no avail. As if turning off a switch, the Hat let him open his eyes to see the Headmaster's office once more. "You have had a hard life. Not as hard as some, but harder than most. Yet you are clever and resourceful in ways I have not seen in a wizard in many years. I placed you in Slytherin not because you begged me to do so, but because I could see your ambition and your need to achieve greatness. And yet, what have you to show for it? Certainly not the stain on your right forearm or your penchant for scaring first years. Indeed, I already know what you want from me. You're easier to read when I'm not atop your head. It's about the boy- the skinny one with glasses who's nearly as small as you were when you started your first year at Hogwarts."
Severus winced, remembering.
"So, you won't put him in Slytherin, then?" Severus asked, his voice still somewhat shaky as he caught his breath.
"I never said that," the Sorting Hat replied.
"I could rip you apart stitch by stitch," Severus hissed venomously, his anger returning, "A Slicing Hex would be far too kind for the likes of you."
"His parents were both Gryffindors, so I expect he'd be Gryffindor as well," the Hat continued absentmindedly, and Severus could tell that it was distracted. He doubted that it had even heard his threat. Before it could clamp down on his head once more, he pulled it off and tossed it onto the desk with a snarl.
"Hey! No fair!" the Hat pouted. "In any case, you shouldn't blame me for your stupidity. You put me on, after all."
Severus said nothing to this. The Hat was right. It had been foolish of him and he hated feeling foolish.
"You know what? You're right. It is stupid to try and argue with you. Incendio," he breathed, pointing his wand at the Hat, which promptly caught fire.
"Hey now...hey! Hey! Hot! HOT! Ow! Stop! Stop it!" The Hat began to shriek, hopping slightly about on the desk, but the magic that gave it some semblance of life was not strong enough to gift it with full movement.
Severus sneered down his nose with a grim sort of enjoyment at the suffering of the damned thing. He was so distracted that he didn't hear the door open behind him.
A blast of freezing cold water hit Severus in the back and gushed over the desk, extinguishing the Sorting Hat and forcing Severus to his knees as he coughed and spluttered horribly.
"Torturing inanimate objects, are we, Severus? That's low even for you," Albus Dumbledore tsked as he moved around the desk and sat down in his chair. Severus stood, the top half of him drenched and dripping with water, his expression dark with mortification.
"Ahh, thank you Headmaster," the Hat said somewhat smugly, as Albus picked it up and cast a spell that cleaned most of the soot off the fabric before levitating it back to the hook on the wall. Then, with a practiced motion, he slid his hand over the burnt spot on his desk and when lifted it from the surface, there was no sign that the wood had been singed at all.
"I only wished to...ensure a certain outcome," Severus grit out from between his teeth after a long, awkward silence. "I...overreacted."
"Ah. And have you achieved the desired result?" Dumbledore looked over the tops of his half-moon glasses.
"That remains to be seen," Severus replied, looking away, shamefaced.
"While I know that Fawkes has a proclivity for pyrotechnics, I should like to remind you that you are not to set anymore magical objects, beings or people on fire," Albus said, his voice growing stern. "Severus. You know better than this. You cannot let your anger get the best of you so often. It's not healthy."
"I never tried to argue that it was," Severus replied, hating the sullen sound in his voice. "I just don't want the boy in my House. I know it's too much to ask not to have him in my classes, but please, I can't bear the thought of looking at her eyes staring out of the spitting image of James Potter's face every day! I wouldn't be able to bear it."
"Very well," Albus replied, shooting a pointed look at the Sorting Hat, who tipped its cloth forward in a little bow. "We are all in agreement, then."
"Menace and power are one thing,
But we all know who settled the score,
I defer to the Headmaster's Judgment,
Harry Potter will be Gryffindor."
The Hat sang its song and Severus turned, grunting with disgust.
"I shall see you at supper, Severus," Albus said, summarily dismissing him. "And before you go, I meant it about the fire thing. Keep your temper in check, or I will be forced to take drastic measures."
"Yes, sir." Severus turned and marched away, slamming the door behind him.
But that night, he tossed and turned in his bed, his dreams torn between memories of the boy he'd been and thoughts of the boy he would be forced to protect in the years to come.