Chapter Two:
The Sorting Hat Goes for a Walk
A Few Centuries Later from the Time We Just Left…Sort of…
Ugh, thought the Sorting Hat as he looked around the dark office. Whoever the headmaster was now (the Sorting Hat was never quite sure, they had been running through a lot recently), they surely did not care about the state of their office. There were layers of dust caked on all the shelves and there were smoke stains everywhere from the numerous candles and torches that were strewn across the room. He was surprised he had not died of smoke inhalation yet. Or from the longing to roam free among the countryside with his master. But that was to never be again.
He needed out. All these years of sitting on the shelf, and then being taken out for an hour just to sing a song once that he had spent the whole year writing and to sort students, just to be put back for the rest of the year: this was taking a toll on his sanity. From what he could remember, Master Gryffindor had intended for him to be a kind of leader for the school. He couldn't very well do that sitting on a bookshelf while a bunch of crazy old wizards ran the place. Those wizards…
There had to be a way out of the office. The Headmaster He-Who-Should-And-Probably-Did-Have-A-Name did it every day. You just had to walk through the office to the door, open the door, and walk out. It was so easy that even a Gnome could do it. However, he did have a problem. How in Merlin's Most Nauseous Potion was he going to get down from the shelf? He got an idea.
"Hey, Headmaster Rupert," he quietly said to a portrait hanging next to his shelf. The portrait stirred and the man inside it began to talk.
"What's the matter now?" Rupert Avencroft grumbled opening one eye under his bushy white uni-brow. "Are the dwarves attacking again? Those ruddy centaurs better have a good explanation for them getting past this time."
"Uh, no sir," said the Sorting Hat. Rupert was not the brightest man. He had been dead for over two centuries and had never noticed it. The other portraits sometimes gave him a hard time about it. Still, he was a good man…well, not really. "I was wondering whether you would be willing to blow me off this shelf."
"Are you mad?" asked Rupert, "I can hardly breathe in here. I'm just a portrait, see?" Rupert began blowing furiously inside his canvas. His face went through several shades of the rainbow before he passed out.
"Um…thank you for trying," said the Sorting Hat. He needed a plan B. And fast: it was getting dark outside. The Sorting Hat glanced over the edge. It was a long way down, but it would be worth it. Using all the strength he could muster, he forced himself over the edge. He hit the floor below hard. That was going to hurt in the morning. Now just to get outside…
OoO
The Sorting Hat landed in a ungraceful heap outside on the grounds after a long fall from the Headmaster's Tower. He could swear it had taken him two hours to fall. There had been a lot of things in the air when he fell like a blind owl, another gryphon, a dwarf hanging from the gryphon with a sack that contained all of the lost treasures of the wizarding world, a sock, and Baba Yaga's house that had somehow sprouted wings. Still, he was alive, so he might enjoy his stroll outside.
The grounds still looked the same as they had when the Sorting Hat first arrived here. Except there were some Muggle bubble wands growing out of the ground and the North Pole had decided to move in next to Hogwarts. He looked to his left and saw the woods and decided that was where he wanted to go. Nothing could happen in a pit of twigs especially without Master Gryffindor…
OoO
A lot of things can happen in a pit of twigs, the Sorting Hat determined. There were a ton of scary creatures that glared at the Sorting Hat with looks of utter disgust…and confusion. The Sorting Hat hoped that he would meet someone he recognized. He could use a hug. The Sorting Hat was pretty certain that he was going crazy.
The forest was now overgrown and foreboding. Maybe it was because he was looking at the world from the ground for the first time in his life. The trees were draped in vines over the sinister folds of their muddy bark. They casted long shadows under the waning moon. At least he didn't have to worry about werewolves tonight.
The Sorting Hat was beginning to tire; he had never had to carry himself before. It was time to go back to the castle. The only problem was that he didn't quite know where the castle was in relation to his current position. He had hardly seen the inside of these woods and he now knew why. The children and staff called it "Forbidden" for a good reason. The trees had seemed to close up behind him.
There were only about 346,782 paths in front, behind, to the left, to the right, above, below, and diagonal of the Sorting Hat. He had no idea where he had come from. Rowena really should have put in some signposts before she left. A nice big brightly painted sign saying "Hogwarts: 2 miles this way" would have been nice. She could have painted some nice wands, or bunnies, or little wandering children on it.
He heard a twig snap not too far from where he sat. The Sorting Hat tensed up for a moment until he saw the human foot that had stepped on the twig. There were people in the forest! Hooray! He was saved. All he had to do was get their attention.
"Albus, I don't think this is the way we are supposed to be going," said a little brown-haired boy timidly. His eyes darted around the forest at every noise made. The Sorting Hat's heart sank. They did not know where they were going either.
"Of course we are not leaving yet, Elphias," declared Albus. "We still have not found a centaur." Oh no. They were looking for centaurs. He couldn't think why anyone in their right mind would actively try to enter the centaurs' region in the forest- aside from Master Gryffindor. Then again, the foot belonged to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, only a first year, but still as brilliant as any seventh year student. The Sorting Hat had always thought that his name was not very good, but Albus Dumbledore's name was completely ridiculous. It perfectly suited his sometimes pompous and nearly always ridiculous attitude.
"Ahem," stated the Sorting Hat clearing his throat. Both boys looked around for the source of the noise (Elphias looked ready to jump out of his skin) and failed to locate the Sorting Hat causing him to sigh in frustration. "Down here by the tree trunk." Albus looked down and chuckled upon seeing the Sorting Hat on the ground.
"Look, Elphias. It is just the Sorting Hat," chortled Albus. Elphias appeared relieved and changed from a rather green-like color to his normal shade. "Why in Merlin's Beard are you down here, Mr. Hat?" Mr. Hat? He dared to call him Mr. Hat? No one called him Mr. Hat!
"Mr. Hat was my father," grumbled the Sorting Hat. "He is not someone I care to discuss."
"Hats do not have fathers!" exclaimed Elphias as if the Sorting Hat had just called him and Albus giant squids. "They are made out of fabric!"
"That's not the point!" shouted the Sorting Hat. He took a deep breath to regain his composure. "I was wondering whether one of you polite gentlemen could direct me in the right direction out of this awful den. I was going on a stroll…"
Elphias insisted on interrupting again, "Hats cannot go on strolls. How can you even walk without having legs?"
Now the Sorting Hat was really testy. "Be quiet!" he bellowed. "So what if I do not have legs. I am obviously on a walk whether it is realistic or not. This is the Wizarding World! Anything can and will happen! Who knows? One day we could be fighting an evil dark sorcerer and the next we could be dancing with fairies and performing in sock puppet studios. Now will you just tell me the way out?"
Albus smiled pleasantly and said, "We are not exactly sure where we are going ourselves, but the centaurs might know. If you want to go home then help us find the centaurs." This kid was clever. He knew precisely how to get what he wanted. The Sorting Hat really had no choice in the matter.
"Alright," he groaned, "I will help you find the centaurs. But it is not my fault if they kill us."
OoO
"Here centaur, centaur," whispered the Sorting Hat in a high terrified voice. He had led them to the place he heard the Headmaster say they normally stay, but they were not here.
"I do not think they are home," squeaked Elphias. "Maybe we should go back to the castle."
"Not yet," announced Albus. "I am sure they are around here somewhere."
There was a snort behind them. All three of them turned around and came face to face with the largest, scariest centaur the Sorting Hat had ever seen. Of course, this was the first centaur he had ever seen from the ground. They hadn't seemed as frightening when he sat on Master Gryffindor's head. Albus's blue eyes lit up with excitement. The sight for some reason felt very familiar to the Sorting Hat. He could not pinpoint why, though.
"Who dares to enter the cove of the centaurs," growled the large centaur with hair as dark as the night sky above. His black eyes pierced through every thread of the Sorting Hat's shaking body. "I could feel that unwelcomed visitors would intrude here tonight. After all, Mars is bright tonight."
Albus looked up at the night sky. "Really?" he asked. "Oh! I do believe you are correct." Elphias looked completely confused. Albus must have fallen off his rocker, or more likely the Astronomy Tower.
"What do you mean, Albus," hissed Elphias. "I do not see anything." Albus nudged him slightly in the ribs and Elphias got the message. So did the Sorting Hat. He was trying to trick the centaur.
"Why, of course!" said Elphias in a rather fake intelligent voice. "I cannot believe that I did not see it before!" The centaur seemed to approve of these statements. The Sorting Hat felt he should help them.
"Yes," he shouted like he was talking to his grandmother, who had been a rather deaf bonnet. "Everyone is in terrible danger. Also, every cat in Hogwarts shall join the Wizard symphony and sing Beethoven's fifth while eating hot chili peppers. We should leave at once."
"I quite agree," chimed in Albus. "Good day to you, Mr. Centaur. I hope we will meet again." The centaur nodded.
"I hope so too, Albus Dumbledore. The stars speak great things of you. They also say you should take the third path to the left," proclaimed the centaur. He walked off into the darkness.
Albus picked up the Sorting Hat and turned to Elphias. "We should take the Sorting Hat back to the Headmaster's office. I think the stars said something about Professor Tanner waiting outside the forest to take us up to the Headmaster's office so that he can give us a week's worth of detention scrubbing ink off of all the teacher's desks."
Elphias moaned. "Why do you get me in these situations, Albus?" The Sorting Hat hoped he would not get detention too. He could not scrub for the lack of hands.
OoO
The Sorting Hat dropped the toothbrush in his mouth and pivoted on the spot. "You owe me, Albus Dumbledore," he said to the eleven-year-old sitting at the desk next to him. "It is not easy to scrub a desk with a toothbrush. I have been at it for a whole half hour."
"It must be better than sitting up in the display case," stated Albus. "A little trouble cannot kill anyone." The Sorting Hat could feel that this would be the start of a very rocky friendship.
"Stupid Gryffindors," he muttered.
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