Sorry I've taken so long to update, but here is some more Marauder and Sorting Hat nonsense! Also, if you are enjoying Just a Thinking Cap, try some of the other stories from Dobby's Socks like the in-progress sequel to this story: The Hogwarts Dragon Murder Case.

Chapter Eight:

Interviews and Inquisitions

To catch young master Gryffindor was not going to be easy, the Sorting Hat decided. He was going to have to be extremely stealthy, and since he was a hat, stealth would not come easily. The Sorting Hat knew he'd have to be as witty as Rowena, cunning as Salazar, determined as Helga, and brave as Master Gryffindor himself. Now if only he could find a good way into Gryffindor Common Room.

There were two ways in from the Sorting Hat's recollection: the portrait hole and an old secret passageway hidden by a tapestry. The Four boys had blown up a potion of Severus Snape's in the secret passageway just the other day, and it had resulted in a rather sticky affair and all five boys received detention (Snape had not received permission to make the potion in the first place). Professor McGonagall was about ready to pull her hair out (all the staff members had at least one gray hair by now; Horace Slughorn was starting to go bald). That route was eliminated, so he decided to go try the portrait hole.

The Fat Lady stared him down as he scuffled up to the bottom of her frame. "You do not look like a student," she said, looking at him as if he were filth on the hem of her dress.

"Well, you see, good lady, I'm not. I'm looking for a certain student in this house…"

"I am not permitted to let anyone outside the House of Gryffindor to enter this tower," the Fat Lady replied curtly.

"And a noble house it is, and I should know. You see, my lady, I am his hat," responded the Sorting Hat.

"His what?"

"His hat. I am Godric Gryffindor's hat. I'm the keeper of his sword. I fought with Master Godric in many-a-war. I valiantly stayed by his side at the Battle of-"

"Well then, rag-"

"I beg your pardon!" exclaimed the Sorting Hat.

"-Where's the proof?" she inquired, raising a doubtful eyebrow at him.

"My lady," retorted the Sorting Hat. He was starting to get extremely annoyed. "I sort all the students at the beginning of the year: I'm the Sorting Hat."

"Then you're not Godric Gryffindor's Hat."

"No, you're missing the point. I belonged to Master Gryffindor," enunciated the Sorting Hat. "He went off to fight a war and he left me here to sort the students."

"Even so, I cannot let you in unless you know the password," stated the Fat Lady. "Plus you have given no concrete evidence."

"What do you mean, no concrete evidence? I'm a hat! I can talk! I speak English, French, German, Bulgarian, Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Hindi, Latin, Swedish, Russian, all the tribal languages of Africa, Arabic, Portuguese, and Old English-eth! I have patches from places where I was stabbed or cursed when Master Godric was fighting! What do you want? A note, a signed note from Godric Gryffindor saying, 'I hereby-eth give the Sorting Hat, my hat, permission-eth to enter-eth Gryffindor Tower-eth.' He happens to be dead, long before your smug face was ever painted upon that canvas in that hideous pink dress!" Here the Fat Lady gasped in horror. "Look at that! It was a beautiful canvas! A beautiful canvas, and you are desecrating it! You should feel ashamed! All the detail put into the background is ruined! Because of you!"

"Why you insolent, little three-inch fool!" shrieked the Fat Lady, her face turning purple with rage. "I was painted in Venice by a master artist!" The Sorting Hat was about to holler back, but someone picked him up by the top of his cloth.

"I believe it's time to return you to your shelf, master hat," stated Professor McGonagall. She started walking down the hall as the Fat Lady continued screaming at him.

"There is not yet a pit of Hell foul enough to contain thee!" bellowed the Sorting Hat, struggling to get away.

"Go rot!" the Fat Lady yelled in return.

When they got back to the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore chuckled as the Sorting Hat attempted to explain his actions. "My, my, Sorting Hat, it sounds like you have had quite the adventure," chortled Professor Dumbledore. It reminded the Sorting Hat of countless of times that Master Gryffindor had stood in front of the Great Queen Maeve (may she rest in peace) all the times he had gotten in trouble at school. "Perhaps you should apologize to her, otherwise the two of you may have sore feelings towards each other until this school crumbles."

"Oh, I'm not apologizing to that beastly woman!" cried out the Sorting Hat.

"You know, grudges are not a wise thing to hold, my friend," replied Dumbledore.

"Oh, you should have heard her," snapped the Sorting Hat. "I'll teach her to call me a rag. I have a sword in me! I'll go out one night and stab her! Yes, that's what I'll do-"

As he mumbled to himself, he overheard McGonagall talking to the Headmaster. "You should exhort better control over him, Albus. He could really mean what he says."

"He and I will get along fine, don't you worry, Minerva," tittered Dumbledore while looking over in his direction. "We'll find a way to pass the time." The Sorting Hat highly doubted that an old man like Dumbledore could keep him occupied for a whole afternoon and a night.

OoO

The Sorting Hat and Professor Dumbledore played chess all night. By the time the sun was rising, the Sorting Hat was more tired then Professor Dumbledore. "Well, Professor," yawned the Sorting Hat, all thoughts of killing the Fat Lady out of his mind, "I think I'm going to retire to my shelf now."

"Really? We were just starting. I'm ready to play another match," said the Headmaster.

"No! No, I'm pretty sure," replied the Sorting Hat graciously. He had been scuttling along the board all night to move the pieces since they would not listen to his commands. Now they were hollering things such as: 'that is right! Get out of here!' and 'Where's the other player? Is that hat going to move us? I think not!'

He had not had such a good nap in years, and when he awoke, Professor Dumbledore was nowhere in sight. Immediately, his thoughts went to young master Gryffindor again. The Sorting Hat fell from the shelf and scuffled out of the office, Fawkes the phoenix giving him an odd glance. "What are you looking at?" the Sorting Hat interrogated.

He was on the seventh floor landing of the Grand Staircase when opportunity came knocking beneath him. A third year named Frank Longbottom was starting to come up the staircase, probably on the way to Gryffindor Tower. The Sorting Hat climbed up to a ledge and jumped onto his bag when Frank was not looking. He immediately flattened himself against it so that nobody would notice him hitchhiking his way into the tower.

OoO

Sirius Black put down his bag by the broom shed and waited for James to be done with Quidditch practice. James loved Quidditch: he talked about it almost as much as he talked about Lily Evans, a girl in their year that James found attractive. They were supposed to go wait for Remus to return to the common room that afternoon. He was away at home again for his aunt Loretta was ill yet again. Someone in Remus' family fell ill every month, but Sirius had noticed that Remus looked a lot more ill then any of his family members could be. Every month he'd turn extremely pale and sickly for about a week, disappear, and then come back with scars all over his body. Peter thought that perhaps Remus had a badly behaved pet, but that was just because Peter had had traumatic experiences with his first pet rabbit.

James came bounding over to the broom shed with broom in tow, his hair windswept like always, a broad grin across his face. As they walked up to the castle, James explained a new prank he had devised for Snape that would lock him inside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. "Is something the matter, Sirius?" asked James, looking at his friend.

"I was just thinking," replied Sirius, "isn't Remus out of school an awful lot."

"Yeah," responded James, "I'm surprised that his aunt Loretta hasn't dropped dead yet."

"Yet he's the one who always looks ill," continued Sirius.

"Honestly, mate, if you believe Pete's 'badly behaved rabbit' theories, I'll tear your arms off and stick them to your kneecaps."

"No, that stuff is ridiculous," stated Sirius, "but you have to admit he's one sickly looking chap."

"Yep, I wonder what's the matter with him," said James, throwing a snitch up into the air and catching it each time. "I had an uncle who used to be like that; he'd received a bite from a zombie."

"You're joking, right?"

"Hey look!" exclaimed James. "It's Evans! Hello, Evans!"

Lily Evans was sitting under a tree doing some homework. She looked up and sighed exasperated when she saw whom it was. "Potter, Black, will you leave me alone? I'm trying to work on my star chart here. Shouldn't you work on yours? They're due tomorrow."

"So what?" Sirius retorted. "Observation is not until tomorrow. Look at that moon, Evans. Why not just sit out here and look at how full it is-"

"It's not full, you fool," responded Lily, packing up your things. "It was full last night. Learn your phases. Why don't you and Potter ask Remus to teach them to you?"

"He's never here on the full moon. Always at some sick family member's house," snapped James. He hated when people thought he and Sirius were stupid. So what if they couldn't tell their moon phases apart. "Sirius and I always invite him and Pete to have a campfire up in the Astronomy Tower on the full moon, and he always says no."

"You've been sneaking up to the Astronomy Tower after hours!" shouted Lily. She stood up and began marching up to the school. "I'm going to tell Professor McGonagall!"

"Evans, please!" James begged, but Lily was already through the doors. "Great, now look what you've done, Sirius. Sirius?"

Sirius had grown wide-eyed over the past minute and his mouth was hanging open. "James…"

"What?"

"Do you think that-"

"That what?"

"…Never mind," replied Sirius. They continued walking up to the castle when they saw Peter and their other dorm mate (whose name always slipped Sirius' mind) running up from the other side of the grounds, covered in dirt.

"I swear, Peter," said their dorm mate, "you need to be more careful. That tree almost killed us."

"Sorry," squeaked Peter. "It's just that those big Slytherins never leave me alone. Thanks for the help."

"No problem," the boy stated and he dashed off to join a younger boy walking up to the castle. Sirius couldn't help but envy their dorm mate: his older brother was a Slytherin but the two of them still got along fine. Sometimes they would argue in the hallways but it always ended with the two of them laughing. He didn't spend much time with people in their year, for his best friend was the year behind. Lily knew them both and swore on her life that the younger boy was a genius.

"What's up Pete?" questioned James. "Slytherins bothering you again. Listen, I came up with this great prank we could pull on them."

"Alright," huffed Peter. "As long as they end up under the Whomping Willow."

"What, did it crush you?" inquired Sirius.

"No, I fell down a hole under the tree. 'Ric came after me; it was real nice of him," explained Peter. "But while we were down there, we saw that there was a tunnel under the tree. We followed it and do you know where it led?"

"Where?" asked James.

"The Shrieking Shack," said Peter excitedly. "Only it was all torn up and stuff. It looked like someone kept a beast in there."

Sirius' blood froze. He remembered one night he had seen Madam Pomfrey go towards the Whomping Willow with Remus in tow: it had been the full moon. That night Remus was supposed to have been going home to see his sick Aunt Loretta…

…And it looked like a beast was kept down there. A beast that howled into the night creating countless bone-chilling stories, a beast that only appeared on the full moon.

That was the moment that Sirius Black discovered and knew almost for sure that Remus John Lupin was a werewolf. "Uh, g-g-guys?" he stammered.

OoO

He had explained his theory to them on the way up to Gryffindor Tower. "Are you certain?" asked James worriedly. "I mean, one hundred percent positive?"

"Almost positive," said Sirius. "It makes sense with all his absences and his appearance."

"Maybe we should ask him," whispered Peter. "He's coming back tonight."

"Oh yeah, sure," mocked James. "I can imagine it. 'Hey Remus, do you turn into a blood thirsty beast once a month?' Real smooth."

"Be quiet," hissed Sirius as they reached Gryffindor Tower. "We don't want anyone else knowing."

"Why not? They might know something," stated Peter.

"But what if it's not true, Peter, and Remus gets kicked out of school for no reason because people were afraid because of a rumor we spread," clarified James. They walked up the stairs to their dorm silently. "We need hard, core facts." He swung open the door and they heard a distinct scuffling coming from near 'Ric's bed. Sirius could see a familiar fabric hat muttering to itself as he tried to climb one of the posts of the four-poster bed.

"I've got an idea," Sirius mouthed to the other two and he pointed over to where the Sorting Hat stood oblivious to their plans. They spotted him and nodded fervently.

Two spell books whizzing up from behind him and squishing him between their hard covers were the last two things the Sorting Hat remembered before blacking out.

OoO

When he awoke, the Sorting Hat had been blindfolded and strapped down to some sort of table. Even though he couldn't see anything distinctly through the cloth, he could tell that there was a bright light shining on him from above.

"Sorting Hat!" rang out a deep voice from above. "Divulge your secrets to me at once!"

The Sorting Hat felt his fabric stiffen. Some scoundrel wanted him to divulge the most secret information in Hogwarts. "Never!" he shouted, racking up all the courage he could muster. "I will never divulge my secrets to anyone!"

"You're asking for it," stated another voice threateningly. He heard something in the background that sounded like scissors.

"Ah! No, not scissors!" cried the Sorting Hat. He now wished that he had never let himself leave the office. No, he had not let himself leave the office: Dumbledore did. If he got out of this alive, the Sorting Hat was going to have a word with that irresponsible man. "Master Gryffindor! Master Gryffindor! Help me!"

"Master Gryffindor is not here to save you now, Sir Hat!" squeaked a female voice.

"Back you fiends! I'm warning you! I have a sword!" he called out to the bright light.

"Get the matches, Wo-" demanded the first voice, "I mean Woman!"

"Hey!" exclaimed Woman.

A match was lit somewhere in the room and he could feel the heat from the flame coming closer and closer. It brought back terrible memories: Fawkes, the wooden stand, flaming bookcases and him stuck in the middle of it. The Sorting Hat could not take it anymore. "Alright!" he yelped. "I give up! I give up! What do you want to know? Please, just spare my miserable existence!"

"I knew you'd give in," said the second voice in triumph. "Hats easily cave to fire and scissors, and I have both and you know it! Now tell us, is there a werewolf at thi- at Hogwarts?"

"What?" asked the Sorting Hat. He immediately thought of Remus Lupin and then of Professor Dumbledore. The Sorting Hat had promised never to reveal Mr. Lupin's predicament to anybody. "Why would you want to know that? Even if I knew that strange creatures were attending the school, I'd never tell you."

"Come on, please!" squealed Woman. "Is Remus a werewolf or not?"

"Remus who?" spluttered the Sorting Hat angrily. "Who are you?"

"Shut up, Pete!" hissed a boy's voice. It sounded quite like the second voice, only a lot younger. Unfortunately for his captors, the Sorting Hat now knew exactly whom he was dealing with.

"Sirius Black! Unhand me this instant!" he yelled at the boy. The Sorting Hat began wriggling which caused the sock tied around his eyes to fall off. From the looks of it, they were sitting in the bathroom closet of the second year Gryffindors' dorm. James Potter was pointing his wand at the Sorting Hat's head and Sirius held a charcoal-ended match near his brim. "You-you marauders have gone too far this time! You may be certain that the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall will hear about this!"

"Don't let him get away, Pete," declared James. "We cannot let him tell Professor McGonagall. She'll make us scrub the bedpans again!"

"Hey, I kind of like Marauders," mused Sirius absentmindedly. "Sort of has this kind of ring to it, you know?"

"I've got him! I've got-" shouted Peter, who did sound remarkably like a girl. However, something happened then that the three would never have expected.

"See, 'Ric, I told you someone was in the closet," said the blonde first-year boy that Sirius had seen earlier. Their dorm mate was looking at the three disbelievingly on the floor of the closet. Frank Longbottom was standing behind them, his eyebrows halfway up his forehead.

"Okay, Ben, you were right," admitted their dorm mate. "Hey, guys. Uh, are you having a campfire or something?"

"Yes," answered James a little too quickly. "Now if you don't mind I'd like to go back to roasting my marshmallows in peace."

"But that's a hat," interrupted Frank.

"No kidding, Sherlock," retorted Sirius. "Goodbye!"

"You might want to give the Sorting Hat back," replied the first-year named Ben. "Lily and Professor McGonagall are looking for you."

"Don't tell them that we're here!" begged Peter, hugging Frank around the knees. "Please! I don't want to scrub bedpans again!" From the blunt force, Frank fell over onto his back. The loud thump caused someone to shout up the stairs.

"Potter! Black! Pettigrew! Come down here this instant!" snapped Professor McGonagall.

"See, justice will be served, young Master G-" the Sorting Hat stated proudly. Young Master Gryffindor had other ideas in mind though and pulled Frank and Ben into the closet as well and shut the door. "What are you doing?"

"Everyone be quiet," muttered 'Ric. Footsteps echoed on the stone stairs outside and then the dormitory door swung open.

"Potter? Black? Pettigrew? I know you're up here," announced Professor McGonagall. Her boots could be seen under the closet door by now, yet they never turned in the closet's direction. She paced about the room looking under all the beds. "When you three decide to grow up and accept consequences then come down to my office. I will only wait for so long, however, so you all had better make up your minds quickly or the Headmaster will hear about this." The bottom of her robes swept out of the room and all six boys in the closet let out a sigh of relief.

"Why are we in here, 'Ric?" inquired Frank Longbottom.

"Because Remus isn't here to get them out of trouble," responded the boy. "We can't let him have all the fun in debating with Professor McGonagall."

"You really are unpredictable, 'Ric," grumbled Ben. "Now could we get out of here?"

"Alright, alright, just hold on a second," said the boy, pushing on the door. It didn't budge. He tried a few more times but still the door did not open. "It won't open."

"You're kidding me!" exclaimed Sirius while struggling through the mass of people. He began slamming himself against the door until he fell down dizzily. "I guess you're not."

"We're going to starve!" cried Peter. The Sorting Hat hoped that Peter really did not think of him as a marshmallow. Not to mention that this was the last place in the world he wanted to be in right now (besides the kitchens: so many bad things can happen in the kitchens).

"Pete, we've only been in here for twenty minutes," griped James. "If only Lily were here, she'd know exactly what to do."

"Stop talking about Evans," complained the frustrated Sirius. "She's the enemy; her best friend is Snivellus, remember."

"James likes Evans?" questioned Peter in an air of surprise.

"Where have you been the past year?" groused Sirius.

"James and Evans sitting in a tree!" yelled 'Ric. "K-I-S-S-I-N-"

"Please stop it, 'Ric," moaned Frank, clutching his head. His face was turning steadily green from the stress of being locked in a closet with overly energetic underclassmen.

"Uh, guys," said Ben.

"G!!!" screamed Sirius, joining 'Ric. James was in the process of trying to strangle the both.

"Will you stop it, all of you!" hollered the Sorting Hat. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ben giving out a sigh and then pulling out his wand.

"Alohomora," he said waving his wand at the door. The closet door jerked open so quickly that all of the occupants fell on their faces outside the closet.

"Air! Free air!" bellowed Frank before charging out of the room. He yelped as he ran into someone in the doorway, which caused Frank to fall down the boy's staircase. The Sorting Hat saw a Slytherin badge on the boy's robes along with a prefect's badge glistening underneath. His dark brown hair was cropped neatly out of his face and one corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. Dark blue eyes gleamed out from deep sockets.

"Oh hey, Randy," chirped 'Ric from the floor. "Shouldn't you be down in your common room, or the library, or outside, or somewhere where it's not breaking the rules.

"I told one of the other prefects that I was looking for you, so they let me in," replied the boy, shrugging his shoulders. "There's nothing in the rules that forbids me from visiting you."

"Half the time I'm not sure why you're not in Gryffindor, Randy," stated Ben.

James was not as welcoming. "Hey, you're a Slytherin! What are you doing in our dorm?"

"I already made it clear that I was let in," responded Randy coldly. "What I'd like to know is what you all were doing in the closet?"

"Well… um…" stammered James. Fortunately, he was saved from the rather embarrassing issue when Remus walked into the door.

"Hey, Remus!" said Sirius. "How was your aunt? Is she feeling better?" The boy did not reply. "Remus?" asked Sirius tentatively. Remus fell over onto the bed in utter exhaustion.

"Is he okay?" inquired Randy. All of the boys walked over to him and the Sorting Hat scuffled after them.

James, Sirius, and Peter turned Remus over. "Ahh!" shrieked Peter, recoiling from their friend. Two long scars ran down Remus' face looking as if a wild beast had slashed him. Some dried blood was between two of his fingernails.

"Oh my, oh my," stated the Sorting Hat worriedly. "Someone should go get the matron."

"We'll go," said 'Ric. He began walking away from the bed with Ben and Randy. "We'll be back in a bit."

"Make sure he's still breathing and don't let anyone else in the room," declared Ben as the three boys left. "You should also probably wash the blood out from between his fingernails. James, Sirius, and Peter stood around their friend shooting nervous glances across to each other. After about five minutes, Remus' eyelids fluttered open.

"Remus, are you okay?" asked James.

"Wha-what's going on?" questioned Remus drearily.

"You passed out," replied Sirius. His face grew somber. "Hey, Remus?"

"What?" Remus seemed oblivious to what Sirius was asking, but the Sorting Hat knew exactly what Sirius would ask at that moment. Even though he should have prevented it, the Sorting Hat inwardly decided to let Sirius continue.

"Are y-you a werewolf?" inquired Sirius.

"What?" replied Remus anxiously.

"Well, you're always gone on the full moon and we figured out that the teachers have been hiding you down in the Whomping Willow," supplied James.

Remus attempted to sit up. "I guess I should go home now."

"Remus," pleaded Peter. "Please don't go, you're our friend! We wouldn't care if you were a werewolf, a vampire, or a Nargle."

"A what?" questioned the three others.

"Xenophelius Lovegood was talking about them once," muttered Peter. Xenophilius was a Ravenclaw boy in the seventh year that had some rather odd tendencies and thoughts. One time the Sorting Hat had caught him trying to eat his dinner with a hollow drinking straw. Another time he was wading out in the lake attempting to talk to the Giant Squid.

"Peter's right, Remus. We don't care and we'll lock you in that closet over there if you try to leave," stated James defiantly.

"You all really still want to be friends?" murmured Remus.

"Why wouldn't we?" responded Sirius seriously. "By the way, you look awful. What happened?"

"I suppose I must have scratched myself," said Remus jadedly. "That happens sometimes."

"Remus don't hurt yourself," cried Peter tearfully. "It's just not fair."

"You're right Peter," announced James. "It really isn't fair. We've got to stop you from mauling yourself, Remus."

"James, I'm a werewolf, remember," Remus reminded him quietly. "You guys really can't stop me. I'd bite you. You'd have to be a mouse to get away from me."

"That's it!" exclaimed James energetically.

"We'll program mice to stop him?" asked Peter.

"No, Pete," replied James. "We'll become Animagi!"

"You guys can't," responded Remus. "The Ministry wouldn't let you."

"Who said we were going to ask the Ministry?" inquired Sirius slyly.

"You wouldn't dare. You can't do that!" protested Remus. "That's illegal!"

"We know, that's why it's called being illegal Animagi," said James. "It will take a while but Sirius and I can manage it and we'll help Pete along the way."

"You'll all get in trouble," groaned Remus. "And then it will be all my fault."

"Nope, we're the ones making the decision, Remus," stated Sirius. "And it will be worth it. We're Gryffindors! We live to get in trouble, and I bet Pete here is even courageous and reckless enough to brave Azkaban, right Pete?"

"Uh…"

"I'll take that as a yes," provided Sirius. Remus was about to argue again but the matron entered at that moment causing the boys to cease their argument. Randy, Ben, and 'Ric all stood in the doorway until Madam Pomfrey announced that the boy was okay.

"Come on, Ben and 'Ric," said Randy. "We've got some practicing to do." The three of them left.

"Hey! Hey!" called the Sorting Hat. "Wait for me!" Yet today apparently was not one of his good days, for afterwards Madam Pomfrey carried the Sorting Hat forcefully back to the Headmaster's office. "The Founders should have been more specific on their directions of how to follow their attributes," he grumbled later on.

Even though the day turned out to be a blunder, the Sorting Hat would look back on it as one of the most important days in the history of Hogwarts. It was a day that solidified friendships and a day that created a traitor. If he had known what would happen, the Sorting Hat would not have let Sirius Black ask that fateful question…