Chapter 2 of my fun little side project. Of course I had to do Harry's year – and since leaving Harry out would just be weird, his section is taken directly from the novel, and therefore comprised of J.K. Rowling's words and not mine.
As for the other students I've chosen: some were because of a unique description of their sorting in the book, some were because these characters play a significant role later in the story – either canon or my own extensions – and some were just because I thought it'd be funny.
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HANNAH ABBOTT
Hannah fought down the butterflies that had been flittering around in her stomach since entering the Great Hall. She'd known she'd most likely have to go first, which was never fun under ordinary circumstances, much less in front of an entire school of people she'd never met.
And then of course she had to stumble on her way to the stool, which certainly didn't make the situation any better. She could feel her face growing more and more flush even as the hat was dropped down on her head and over her eyes.
"Ah!" said the hat's voice, though she didn't so much hear it as feel it. "You're a lovely girl; I can tell. Not an unkind bone in your body. Certainly there is no better place for you than HUFFLEPUFF!"
As quickly as it had been placed on her head, the hat was removed, and Hannah felt herself blushing no longer from embarrassment, but pleasure at the hat's words. Surely, she thought, as she hurried toward the table full of friendly-looking faces smiling warmly and waving at her, this was the best fit; the hat knew what it was talking about. She hadn't even sat down yet and already she felt welcomed, accepted,...home.
LAVENDER BROWN
Lavender did her best to control herself and school her features as she approached the stool. It wouldn't do to let everyone see just how nervous she really was. She wanted to make a good impression.
"Well, well, well!" exclaimed the hat the moment she put it on her head. "What a remarkable young woman you are!"
Lavender preened under the praise, and her jitters turned to excitement, wondering which house she would be placed in. She had thought Ravenclaw might be a bit boring, expecting everyone to be bookish and unsocial, but by all appearances they seemed normal enough. Gryffindors were known for being rather brash and uncouth, but the few she'd met growing up had always seemed all right.
She worried about Hufflepuff and what it might mean for her social reputation, seeing as it was often spoken of as a house for dullards, but seeing the lot of them at their long table had her questioning that assumption, too. They appeared at once a very tight-knit group, and yet somehow remarkably open to newcomers. On the other hand Slytherin, which was supposed to be the best for social networking, looked significantly less inviting by comparison.
Still, bolstered as she was by the hat's words, she waited as patiently as she could for its decision. It was a difficult few seconds.
"You are far more than you think you are, my dear," said the hat, sounding impressed. This statement confused her, but at the same time she felt inexplicably proud. "And I hope you come to understand this over the course of your years in GRYFFINDOR!"
The far left table went mad. And even though she knew that most of the cheers were not for her personally – she just happened to be the first new student to join them this year – the feeling of pride from the hat's words swelled still bigger within her. Her smile split her face as she hurried over to join them; a pair of older boys – twins, by the look of it – were catcalling. Normally that would be irritating, and she'd be more than a little uncomfortable, but in the current mood, it made her feel pretty.
A girl who was perhaps two or three years older than her offered her a seat on the bench, and, feeling quite special indeed, Lavender took her place at the table and prepared to join her new housemates in welcoming whomever came to join them next.
KEVIN ENTWHISTLE
This entire process really was quite interesting, Kevin thought as he strolled toward the stool. Did the hat have some kind of legilimancy that allowed it to look inside people's minds? That sort of thing would be fascinating to observe over a long period; he envied the older students and professors their experience. Really, he ought to check the library at the earliest opportunity and see what had been written over the centuries regarding the hat's abilities. He imagined there had to be quite a lot.
He sat on the stool.
But was communication possible? Was it a one-way process or could one converse with the hat? That would be the truly interesting thing to see. Obviously the hat was capable of speech, but was it pre-prepared by someone else or did it possess its own consciousness? And if so, could it understand the speech of others in addition to generating its own?
"RAVENCLAW!" he dimly registered the announcement and, as he stood up to join his new house, he resolved to question others on their experiences. None of them had been up there for the same amount of time, after all. Surely something must have been going on.
He took a seat offered to him on the long bench.
He was never particularly keen on talking to people, but this was too big a question to let go. He would have to find some people who were easily approachable yet willing to ponder and discuss such things. Perhaps it would take a few weeks of observation to find such people, but that was all right. He had plenty of time, after all.
SEAMUS FINNIGAN
Seamus hadn't been quite sure what to expect when he sat down, but hearing a disembodied voice in his head had not been near the top of the list.
"Blimey!" he thought when the hat first greeted him. It was a wonder he hadn't said it out loud.
"First time wearing a mind-reading hat?" the hat joked.
"I reckon it is," Seamus replied. "Unless you're just the first one that can talk."
"Now that's an excellent point," said the hat. "I've never really thought about it, but there could be any number of hats out there that simply can't communicate what they're thinking. My, what a miserable existence."
"I don't know," said Seamus. "I mean, wouldn't it be better than not thinking at all?"
"My dear boy, if one could not think at all, how could one even be aware of one's existence in the first place?"
"Oh, yeah..."
"Now about your sorting," the hat said. "I'm afraid we've gotten a little sidetracked."
"Oh, right, sorry."
"Not at all, not at all, entirely my fault. This is supposed to be my job, after all. Now then, let's see..."
"How does this work, exactly?" Seamus asked, curious. "Do you just read my thoughts or something?"
"Something like that," the hat said. "It's more akin to reading your true self. Don't ask me to explain how; I'm not certain I could. The long and short of it, however, is that you, my dear boy, are destined for GRYFFINDOR!"
HERMIONE GRANGER
The second her name was called, Hermione dashed toward the stool as quickly as she dared. This was it! A place to fit in at last! No longer would she be the odd, bookish girl whom nobody liked unless they wanted something from her. No, here was a place where everyone else was like her – magic! – and would surely be just as enthusiastic as she was about learning as much as possible about this amazing and fantastic new world.
She rammed the hat onto her head, unable to wait any longer to find out where she would go, where she would spend the next seven years of her life learning and growing and experiencing this wonderful new adventure.
"My goodness!" the hat's voice rang in her ears. "You've the brain of a Ravenclaw if ever I've seen one!" Hermione's heart fluttered. She had read all about Rowena Ravenclaw and recognized what a significant compliment this was. Was that it, then? Was she to be a Ravenclaw? It would definitely be something to be proud of...
"And yet...," said the hat, as if it were continuing her own line of thought, "There's something more there. Something...deeper. No, as good a fit as you would be, I don't think I'll be putting you in Ravenclaw after all. A marvelous mind is one thing, but a heart such as yours can only belong in GRYFFINDOR!"
So happy she thought she might burst, Hermione tore the hat off her head and practically ran to the far left table, certain she had found the place where she belonged at long last.
NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM
"Well now, isn't this interesting?" rang a voice in Neville's head that made him jump. He realized the hat must be talking to him, though based on the rest of the ceremony so far, nobody else could hear. That was definitely a good thing.
"You don't seem to have come into your own yet," the hat continued. "How can we help you on your way, hmm?"
Neville wasn't sure if the hat was talking to him or itself, so for the moment he did not respond.
"Tell me something," it said after a period of silence. "If you could have your fondest wish, and be sorted into any house you wanted, which would you choose?"
That was a surprise. Did the hat let people choose what house they wanted? It would explain a lot, actually. He knew what he'd like, but also knew it wasn't going to happen.
"Don't worry about what you think is or is not possible," the hat said, apparently following his train of thought. "Just answer the question. Where would you wish to go, in your heart of hearts?"
He hardly dared answer, even though the conversation was limited to his own head. Finally, he thought, "Gryffindor." It was the house of the brave after all, and Neville had alwas wanted to be brave.
"Yes, I thought you might say that," said the hat. "Well why not, then? Let us make it official, shall we?"
"What? No!" Neville panicked. "You can't! I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor."
"Excuse me," drawled the hat, "you're brave enough if I say you're brave enough. Whose criteria do you think these decisions are based upon, hmm?"
"But...but I can't even stand up to my cousin Edwin, and he's three years younger than me!" Neville protested.
"And is that something you are satisfied with?" asked the hat.
"Well, no," Neville admitted. "Of course not. But that's what I mean! I'm not brave at all!"
Neville felt what might have been a sigh pass through his head, and there was a long period of silence, during which he could do naught but panic that the hat was either going to insist upon having its way, or else tell him to just go home. He had no way of knowing how long he sat there, stewing in this mire of anxiety. It might have been ten seconds or ten minutes.
"Let us for a moment look at the other houses, then," said the hat finally, startling Neville out of his angst. "You are by no means unintelligent, but neither do you possess the right mind for Ravenclaw – and you are nearly as far from an ideal Slytherin as it is possible to be.
"You might be happy in Hufflepuff, though I believe 'content' would be the better word, and I doubt you would ever reach your true potential there."
"What does that mean?" Neville asked.
"Think, boy! You are only eleven years old! Do you truly not expect to grow and change over the next seven years? You might be comfortable in Hufflepuff it's true, but you would likely find yourself leaving Hogwarts remaining much the same as how you entered it. I maintain that Gryffindor is the right fit for you; you will find your true self there. A man you can be proud of. I must insist you trust my judgement; I have been doing this for roughly a thousand years and I am almost never wrong."
"'Almost'?" Neville asked nervously. "What if I go into Gryffindor and everyone just laughs at me?"
"Nothing in life is without risk," said the hat, and Neville imagined that if it could shrug, it would have done so. "But my advice remains unchanged. However, if you are truly dead set against it, I shall not force you."
It was giving him an out. All he had to do was say he would be fine with Hufflepuff and his troubles would be over; he'd never have to worry about living up to his father's reputation, or Gryffindor's reputation, or anything of the sort. He wouldn't have to worry about being brave, because Hufflepuffs accepted you just as you were.
He took a deep breath.
"All right," he told the hat. "I'll try."
"Hmm," the hat chuckled smugly. "Exactly what I would expect to hear from someone bound for GRYFFINDOR!"
The gravity of the moment was somewhat ruined when he forgot to take off the hat and had to go back up to put it back.
DRACO MALFOY
Draco couldn't help but scoff at how many people were taking so long. Honestly, how difficult could it be to see whether one was clever, boorish, simple, or swotty? Maybe the hat was just getting old and imcompetent. No matter. He knew where he would be going regardless. Unlike the rest of these idiots wringing their hands and biting their nails, bouncing up and down like some kind of pathetic dog begging to be let into the house.
When his name was called, he sauntered over to the stool and cooly took the hat from the old professor. He hadn't even fully put it on when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" exactly as he'd known it would. He couldn't help but grin; it was a sign of just how much better he was than the rest of them how quickly his sorting had gone. He knew exactly who he was and the hat couldn't miss it. He strode over to sit between Crabbe and Goyle. The only thing left to see now was what the hat made of that arrogant ponce, Potter.
PADMA PATIL
The only thing Padma was sure of was that she didn't want to be in the same house as Parvati. She loved her sister more than anyone in the world, but she knew from experience that she'd never be able to become her own person if they were together. The only reason she didn't feel guilty was that she knew Parvati felt the same.
When the hat was first placed on her head, she wasn't sure what to expect, though she had an idea. Sure enough, she heard a voice speaking to her a moment later.
"Hmm, not a bad mind you've got; plenty of courage, too. So where to put you..."
"Not with Parvati..." she thought, not even sure if the hat could hear. As it turned out, it could.
"Not with your sister, eh? Twin syndrome, is it? Ah yes, I've seen it before. Want to make your own mark on the world. Admirable, admirable. So then...which for you, and which for this sister of yours?"
"If you're talking about Gryffindor and Ravenclaw..." she guessed, based on what it said initially.
"I am."
"Then put me in Ravenclaw. Parvati would hate it in there; it's the one place I'm sure she wouldn't want to go."
"If you say so. Lucky for you you're a good fit. "RAVENCLAW!"
PARVATI PATIL
The slight twinge of sadness Parvati had felt at hearing her sister sorted into Ravenclaw – a house she knew she herself did not belong in – was replaced almost immediately by a sense of happiness for her twin. She knew Padma had always been a little uncomfortable with outgoing she, Parvati, was. Yet she had always selfishly dragged Padma along on whatever it was she wanted to do, knowing that her twin would simply go along with her more dominant personality. Now Padma finally had a place where she could shine on her own, and Parvati was sure she would. And it would give both of them the chance to make new friends who shared their respective interests.
Taking her seat as her name was called, Parvati waited patiently for the hat to be placed, knowing she'd likely be happy wherever it put her.
"Your sister knows you well," said a small voice in her ear. She stifled a gasp. "She knew as well as I do now that you belong in GRYFFINDOR!"
The hat's words stirred a fondness for her twin sister that she knew would never diminish, even now they would be leading largely separate lives. They truly did know each other, and she hoped it would always be so. As she made her way toward her new housemates, she looked across the hall at Padma, and the two of them shared a genuine, loving smile such as only twin sisters could.
HARRY POTTER
As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.
"Potter, did she say?"
The Harry Potter?"
The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.
"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, my goodness, yes – and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting... So where shall I put you?"
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, "Not Slytherin, not Slytherin."
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – no? Well, if you're sure – better be GRYFFINDOR!"
Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He was so relieved to have been chosen and not put in Slytherin, he hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"
RON WEASLEY
"Weasley, Ronald!" called McGonagall. Surprised (but grateful) not to be last, Ron walked over and sat on the stool. He felt like he was going to be sick. This was it: the moment of truth. Would he be the first Weasley in generations to not be in Gryffindor? He'd always taken it almost for granted that that's where he would go, but such momentous occasions always brought with them those niggling doubts, after all.
The hat was placed on his head and everything went dark. For a second, nothing happened. The panic he'd been unsuccessfully trying to suppress began to swell, and just as it was reaching its crescendo, a voice:
"No need to worry, lad. You may not feel like it right now, but trust me: you're as Gryffindor as they come."
Ron barely had time to register what he'd heard when the hat belted out, "GRYFFINDOR!" to the Great Hall, and relief such as he'd never felt washed over him like a powerful wave.
He made his way over to the far left table where Harry was clapping loudly for him, which boosted his confidence a lot. He was lucky to have made a friend so quickly and not have to rely on his brothers. Brothers who, for the moment, were for once not taking the mickey out of him and instead were congratulating him just like everyone else.
"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy pompously as he collapsed into the seat next to Harry. It was a sign of the momentousness of the occasion that Percy was so openly expressing pride in him – and even more so that rather than feeling annoyed as he usually would, Ron felt quite pleased. The next seven years were going to be great. He could feel it.
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So some of you may be wondering where the hell I've been and what the hell I've been doing. Excellent questions. Long story short: depression is a bitch; I haven't written anything – fanfic or otherwise – in over a year. I'm finally starting to feel like myself again, and I've just started writing again this week. I'm absurdly rusty, which likely accounts for the shoddy quality of what you just read, but I'm enjoying myself immensely, much as I did before. I can only hope this continues, and I can start posting things on at least a semi-regular basis again.