Time for a new chapter! Here's a more cheery one because the last one was a bit heavy and the next two after this will be heavy yet again. Unfortunately I feel as most people do that the First Wizarding War was not funny. Considering it probably occurred during the Marauder's time a Hogwarts that leaves a lot of sad stuff happening in the later years. Here we go!

Chapter Ten:

The Trials of Songwriting

Things had turned out much quieter as June approached the Sorting Hat. This was a bit deviant from past years, but Sirius Black and Severus Snape were still in detention for the Whomping Willow incident. All of Hogwarts seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at this news. As fond as people were of the Marauders and their shenanigans many staff members and students were often fed up by this time of year. The end of the year had traditionally brought one last prank by the Marauders to cap of the year, but so far there were no whispers of any sort of plan.

This was all fine with the Sorting Hat. For the first time in five years he could actually rehearse his song for the upcoming school year in peace. Writing songs were a difficult enough process in itself. He had perfected the general format of the sorting ceremony song: he would begin by talking about himself or the history of Hogwarts (the version approved by that stupid old witch who censored the Beedle the Bard stories of course) and then move on to describing house characteristics, and finish with instructions on the sorting. On some occasions he had found it necessary to address certain current events in his songs. During the Second World War he added a section to try and cheer up the students' attitudes. He could not just pretend that some of their houses had not been blown up in the air raids. In recent years he found himself addressing current events once more, but this time as a sort of warning to the students. He somehow doubted, though, that his songs could stop the Wizarding War.

Unfortunately the last five years had caused the Sorting Hat to redefine the house descriptions. Most of this was due to the Marauders, but there were others who had contributed to this as well…

Three Years Prior…

He was in a bit of a huff because Phineas Nigellus Black had suggested the word pig-headed in his description of Gryffindor house. The Sorting Hat could never say such a thing about his Master Gryffindor's house! It would be insulting his Master's memory. He knew it was the Marauders that caused former Headmaster Black to say such a thing, but the man did not need to take such enjoyment out of telling him this! The Sorting Hat could just as well describe Slytherin house in such rude terms.

"Or Slytherin perhaps could be the house where you belong," he sang to himself. "Those dastardly, evil cowards will always treat their peers wrong."

He felt a bit better, but it would not solve any problems and only earn himself and Professor Dumbledore several Howlers. If only those Marauders would behave!

There was a knock at the office door. Some of the portraits stirred in their slumber (thankfully Phineas Nigellus was not one of them) but Headmaster Dumbledore did not appear. The Sorting Hat glanced about looking for some sign that he was or was not to answer the door. He did not end up with much of a choice. The door decided to open itself.

In marched a tall seventh year boy with messy chin length blond hair carrying a bizarre looking spyglass with five interchangeable lenses on protruding metal wires. He bent down to examine the floor with his very large blue eyes. The boy wiped it with his index finger and then rubbed it against his thumb. "This room has definitely seen a feather-crested borschnauzle," he announced to no one in particular. The Sorting Hat looked at Fawkes, but the bird only chirped in a confused manner (if you could call it that for the Sorting Hat could not really speak fluent phoenix chirps) and continued to stare at the boy. After racking his brains for a few minutes the Sorting Hat remembered the boy was named Xenophilius Lovegood. He honestly did not know why he had not realized this sooner for Xenophilius truly was one of a kind. It had taken him a little while to place him at the sorting ceremony for at first he thought the boy was a lunatic. However, he discovered after a few moments that his thoughts were just very, very disorganized. This may have explained what the boy was doing in the Headmaster's office without an invitation.

"Pardon me," stated the Sorting Hat. Xenophilius did not reply. He continued looking around the room with the strange spyglass.

"I said pardon me!" exclaimed the Sorting Hat. Once again Xenophilius did not reply. The Sorting Hat was more than a bit insulted at the lack of response. He was the Sorting Hat after all. As far as he knew he was the only talking hat in existence. He could not see why anyone would not want to listen to him speak.

He heard a more timid set of footsteps approach the office, and as he looked up Ben walked into the office. "Um… Xenophilius? I saw you walk up here, and I know you really think that the schnitzel-thing-"

"Borschnauzle, Motto," replied Xenophilius without turning to face the younger boy.

"Right, borsnauzle," said Ben. "I know you think it's up here, but this is the Headmaster's office. I don't know how you even got into here, but-"

"You really use 'but' much too often in your speech patterns," responded Xenophilius Lovegood, finally putting his spyglass down. "No one is going to take you seriously if your always shoving all those 'buts' in their faces. Now you could have replaced the first 'but' with a 'because'-"

"This is not about my grammar! We have time to fix that later!" exclaimed a very exasperated Ben. "We need to get out of here. People might think-"

"Ahem," coughed a high-pitched voice. The Sorting Hat then saw that a sixth year prefect named Dolores Umbridge had entered the room with young Master Gryffindor in tow.

"Can you let go of my ear now?" he asked, obviously uncomfortable and grumpy at having been caught for some sort of offense.

"I found this boy lurking outside, but before I left to report in to Professor Slughorn I heard noises coming from up here," she stated with a huge, fake smile tugging on her face. She pulled 'Ric's ear tighter.

"Ow!"

"So I thought that I might as well check it out and what do we have here? Intruders! Obviously here to steal something from the Headmaster's office."

"We're not stealing anything!" retorted Ben. "We're just-"

"Shh," hissed Xenophilius. He leaned forward towards Umbridge. "We're looking for a feather-crested borschnauzle."

"A what?" inquired Umbridge.

"A feather-crested borschauzle," repeated Xenophilius. "They're about 50 centimeters high, have the head of a warthog only they have red and brown plumage instead of hair, and have four cat-like feet. This here is my assistant."

"I'm not your assistant! Keep me out of this!" shouted Ben.

"That can't be real," snapped Umbridge.

The Sorting Hat could not help himself. As wrong as he knew it would be he wanted to intervene. Everyone in the school- students, teachers, portraits, and ghosts- knew Dolores Umbridge was way too easy of a target. Plus the girl was for the most part very unpleasant. A little antagonism every 1000 years should not be too much to ask for, he mused. "But they are, miss."

"What?" she gasped.

"They are indeed real. I remember once when I was a younger hat that I came across one in the Forbidden Forest. It was a rather frightful sight. The creature wanted to take me to its den and rip me to shreds for bedding for its cubs. If the caretaker at that time had not arrived any sooner I would have been done for," he said, adding as much emotion as he could muster. He noted with pleasure that her face had become rather pale.

"Cool," breathed young Master Gryffindor. "So like that thing behind the Headmaster's desk?"

Everyone whipped their heads over towards the desk. Fawkes had his head cocked slightly to the side as he stared at the strange creature. Sure enough it had the head of a warthog, red and brown plumage, and four cat-like feet with very sharp claws. It growled at the prefect, and before he knew it Umbridge had turned on her heels and run screaming out of the Headmaster's office.

"This is most excellent!" exclaimed Xenophilius, blue eyes wide in amazement. "Such a beautiful creature. The Daily Prophet will have to take my article this time!" He skipped out of the office singing about the beauty of the feather-crested borschnauzle.

Ben stood with his mouth agape. The boy could not believe that this rare magical creature had appeared out of the middle of nowhere. The Sorting Hat could not believe it himself. He had not even heard of a feather-crested borschnauzle before this afternoon. 'Ric looked above the creature's head.

"That was rather cruel to Xenophilius, you lot," he said. There was a movement of air and then James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew appeared from under the invisibility cloak. James and Sirius immediately fell on the floor, rolling with laughter. Peter was lightly wheezing. The Sorting Hat supposed that it was Peter's form of laughter.

"You guys let that thing in?" asked Ben.

"Why you rapscallions! I'll have you expelled this time! You've scared me half to death with that-that thing!" shouted the Sorting Hat.

"We didn't even need to let it in," replied James between stitches. "We just dressed up Filch's cat."

"Bloody hell! You guys better change her back," responded young Master Gryffindor. "Though I must admit the costume is nice work."

"We didn't use a costume," said Peter proudly. "James transfigured her face."

"HOW COULD YOU THREE DO SUCH A THING!" hollered the Sorting Hat. "THAT'S NOT ONLY DISGUSTING, BUT ALSO CRUEL! I'LL CALL PETA OR THE SOCIETY FOR WIZARDING ANIMALS ON YOU LOT! SEE HOW FUNNY IT IS THEN!"

"Alright, alright, hold your threads," stated James. "We're changing her back."

"But man, that Xenophilius," snorted Sirius. "I'm not sure I'd call him the wisest. Eccentric would do it."

Back to the Present…

Yes, Xenophilius Lovegood had definitely changed the definition of Ravenclaw House. No doubt about it. Then there was always the issue of young Master Gryffindor's elder brother.

Two Years Prior…

Randolph was not a member of Gryffindor House in the sense of having been sorted into the physical manifestation within the walls of Hogwarts. He was, however, a son of the Gryffindor line, and the older son for that matter. After sorting the unfortunate boy into Slytherin House he suffered a migraine for the next week because Salazar kept chuckling in the back of his mind. It was a most unfortunate circumstance that as the Sorting Hat he was subject to listening to the mindset of the Founders until the end of the world. That was a little fact he kept to himself because the only thing that could possibly understand would be the phoenix Fawkes, but the bird could not even talk back to pity his circumstance. Then the portraits of the former Headmasters would hear and then they would want to know EVERYTHING the mindset of the Founders had to say. That would not only be unbearable but absolutely annoying.

So why was Randolph, a member of Slytherin House, helping him do this? "You know you could get into trouble for this," stated the Sorting Hat. "I don't even want to be doing this, but I've got no choice."

"It's absolutely self preservation," replied the brown-haired seventh year, while his left eye twitched. The Sorting Hat sniffed to himself. That was the signature Gryffindor eye twitch: it meant that Randolph was obviously lying. He had seen that eye twitch in Master Gryffindor and his sons as well. Obviously the boy was not willing to share his motives.

Randolph peeked out from their hiding spot behind Ravenclaw tower. The iced over lake shone under the bright rays of the midwinter sun. This winter had been very hard on everyone due to the over abundance of snow that had fallen from the sky during the past month. Practically the entire school was present on the grounds. That was everyone except the teachers. The Sorting Hat was astounded by the lack of supervision at the present moment. He knew that Mr. Filch was too busy inside constantly mopping the Entrance Hall, but some teacher should have been present outside.

The Great Snow War would not have started if there had been an adult. He had been glancing outside just twenty minutes ago from his safe window sill perch in the Headmaster's office when he saw Sirius Black begin gesticulating wildly at his younger brother. Everything had gone downhill from that in a matter of minutes as the Gryffindor verses Slytherin snowball fight began. The other houses, of course, would not be outdone so now it was a four way fight. First years lay about the ground, ducking and covering their faces to avoid getting snow in their eyes. The Sorting Hat hated snow almost as much as he hated fire and scissors. Snow reminded him of water and water reminded him of laundry machines…

He shivered and moved further into Randolph's bag. The seventh year had barged into the Headmaster's office shortly after the fight began, but instead of looking for Dumbledore the boy had snatched him from the window sill (he was really missing the nice, warm, safe window sill right now) and ran out here. He was going to protest, but then the boy had laid the cold facts in front of him: the Marauders were going to build a giant ice castle on top of the lake. The Sorting Hat would have accepted a medium-sized snow fort, but a castle was just too much. First off, it would be obvious to some professor somewhere that something amiss was occurring. Second, it could very easily fall over and severely injure a lot of students. Third, it was just plain stupid and gave Gryffindor an unfair advantage in the Great Snow War.

That castle was going to have to come down. There was no other solution. The only issue was finding the right way to go about it. "A fire spell will be too dangerous," said the Sorting Hat. "Something- I mean someone- could get burned."

"That's true. Collapsing one side might be even worse though," responded Randolph. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a while.

Unfortunately time was up. With a great rumble and shrieks emitted from many students the Castle de Marauders rose up on the lake, casting a dark shadow on the embankments of the other three houses. "BWAHAHAHAHAHA! TRY STOPPING US NOW REGULUS!" bellowed Sirius Black. He pointed to some third year boys on the castle behind him. "OPEN FIRE!" A loud boom told the Sorting Hat that the Marauders had successfully transfigured a snowball-cannon. The ice ball missed the Slytherin embankment by centimeters and then demolished the Ravenclaw fort.

"Sirius!" called out Remus Lupin. He was standing in front of the draw bridge. "Isn't this taking it a bit far? You're going to kill somebody carrying on like this!"

"NOTHING IS TOO FAR WHEN IT COMES TO SIBLING RIVALRIES AND HOUSE GLORY! OPEN FIRE AGAIN!"

Then the Sorting Hat saw it. It was that look that Master Gryffindor gave every time some brilliant- a.k.a dangerous- idea came into his mind. Seeing it on Randolph's face terrified the Sorting Hat more than he would have thought. It might have actually been scarier than seeing it on Master Gryffindor's face. "Oh no. Don't you start with that look! I know that look and that look means trouble. That look means that you're going to do something so incredibly stupid that you'll end up in the Hospital Wing for a month so that you can re-grow all your bones or remove slug-ooze from all the blisters you've somehow grown. Let's just stop before we get started!" shouted the Sorting Hat.

But Randolph was not listening. The boy just started walking forward through the flying snow and ice like it was a casual stroll through a sunny meadow. The Sorting Hat ducked further into the bag. "Why are you doing this?" he hollered.

"For the glory of course," he drawled, left eye twitching. The Sorting Hat was rather fed up with this front by now.

Randolph reached the base of the castle and pointed his wand down at the ice around it. He muttered some choice words, and the Sorting Hat heard a terrible cracking sound. The ice around the castle had a clean circle carved around it. He knew ice normally floated, but an ice castle full of snow and Gryffindor students…

"You're cruel," breathed the Sorting Hat.

"Not really," replied Randolph. "I could've used a fire spell."

The castle began to sink into the lake. "ABANDON SHIP!" cried James Potter. Windows appeared on all sides of the castle and students jumped out onto the partially frozen lake. Peter Pettigrew slipped as soon as he hit the ice and slid headfirst into the Hufflepuff embankment. He was immediately and mercilessly pelted with snowballs. James Potter landed on his feet and looked up at his best friend. Sirius was standing proudly on top of the sinking castle with a Gryffindor flag. "SIRIUS! GET DOWN FROM THERE!"

"NO!" bellowed his friend in return. "I SHALL GO DOWN TO THE DEPTHS WITH MY CASTLE!"

"SIRIUS THAT'S JUST STUPID! REMUS! DO SOMETHING!"

"No way," said Lupin. "I'm not taking an ice bath just because Sirius wants to go swimming."

The castle began sinking at a faster pace and a big wave splashed out of the hole in the lake. James and Remus were swept up by it and flung into the snow bank lining the lake. The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs abandoned their forts a bit too late and were splashed as well. Before Sirius could fall into the water, though, a giant tentacle reached around the castle and grabbed the boy. After a couple of angry shakes Sirius was released into a rather large pile of snow on the shore.

The tentacle returned to the depths of the lake as the tip of the castle sunk below the surface. Gryffindor students skidded across what remained of the ice back towards the castle. The Great Snow War was over.

He saw Ben and young Master Gryffindor walking onto the lake towards Randolph when the ice beneath them began to crack. The Sorting Hat almost cried out, but then he saw in his peripheral vision Randolph's arm grasp the front of their robes and he flung them to the side away from the ice.

"Ouch! Why'd you do that?" shouted 'Ric.

Randolph walked over to the younger boys and stared them down. Young Master Gryffindor looked a bit sheepish, and Ben only looked away. "Don't just walk out on broken ice like an idiot!" the older boy snapped.

"Sorry," apologized Ben.

"So you do care about us," stated 'Ric, raising an eyebrow. "You couldn't help but step into the fray when you thought everyone was going to get hurt or in trouble from all this stupidity."

"No," said Randolph. His left eye twitched. "Put a hat on before you catch the flu." The Sorting Hat felt Randolph throw his bag to his brother.

Ben and 'Ric stared at him in the bag. "I'm not wearing it," stated young Master Gryffindor.

"IT?" he roared. "I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I AM NOT AN IT! I AM"

"James?"

"Dad!" called the leader of the Marauders. The Sorting Hat looked over towards the trouble maker and saw none other than Charlus Potter walking over to his son. It was odd for the head auror to be here on a winter afternoon. Surely he did come to the school more often than most parents due to multiple meetings with Dumbledore and other members of the staff over the issue of James' behavior, but from what he could recall there had been no usual set up of tea for the occasion. He had not known that Charlus Potter was even in the school. The Sorting Hat saw other older witches and wizards walking out the front door and chatting amongst themselves. He looked up to 'Ric to see what the boy made of it. Young Master Gryffindor, however, was not looking at the pair or the exiting people, so the Sorting Hat followed his gaze. Randolph stood frozen on the lake with some unreadable expression on his face, his gaze locked on the two Potters.

"Randy are you okay?" asked Ben tentatively. Randolph seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts were swirling about his head, and he almost jogged over to his brother. He forced the younger of the ice and practically started dragging him towards the castle.

"Hey! What are you doing?" yelled 'Ric.

"Don't look back," hissed the elder brother. "Don't look back at any of them. Definitely do not talk to them. We are to remain invisible."

"But it's just James and his dad-"

"I don't want to hear anything about it. You're not to talk to them, is that understood?"

Ben picked up the bag the Sorting Hat currently occupied and rushed after the two brothers.

Again in the present…

Yup. Randolph was a weird one. He'd totally blown out the evil theory in the Sorting Hat's mind. He wasn't even sure if the "self" belonged in front of "self-preservation" any more. Nor was Gryffindor totally heroic and good. The Sorting Hat was always finding new definitions of Hufflepuff because he honestly didn't know how to describe the house. Lady Helga had always been so… good, true, pure of heart. But no one was truly pure of heart. Perhaps loyal? Yes, he would stick with the word loyal. It covered for those led astray by Voldemort and others like him.

Ravenclaw could now be devoted to learning. It wasn't necessarily a characteristic like loyal, brave, and evil, but it would have to do. No it sounded stupid. Wise could be eccentric sometimes, so wise it would be. If only those Marauders had not thrown so much doubt into the name of Gryffindor…

Last year on a dark and stormy night as he was feeling rather moody and cliché…

He'd had enough. Dumbledore should have known better than to leave him in charge of their detention. He honestly should have cancelled detention tonight for his secret little Order meeting (one of Hogwarts' many secrets that everyone naturally knew). But apparently brats had to be taught lessons, so here he was in front of James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter as one of the three busily scribbled down lines. The other three were being annoying… as always…

"But really! I think the most effective learning strategy would be to teach the goblin wars with sock puppets," stated Sirius adamantly.

"No, that's just stupid," replied James. "Next thing I know you'll say that we should teach the history of Hogwarts with sock puppets."

He nearly gagged. There was no way he could allow the Marauders to taint such a noble history with dirty laundry. It was just indecent.

"That's ingenious! I'll start on the script tonight!"

This was it. He couldn't stand it anymore. First the dumb questions ("Just how many lines are we supposed to write? Couldn't we write one less?") and the bickering ("No I will not share my chocolate!" "You're a pig, Peter!" "Am not!" "Are too!") he was going loony. There was only one solution left. The fire in the grate behind his current position looked suddenly warm and inviting. He took a deep breath, shut his eyes, and jumped.

Before he hit the flames he felt a hand grab his pointed tip. "Bloody hell! Don't do that!" yelped James Potter. He opened his eyes and stared the scrawny fifteen year old in the face.

"You try listening to stupid bickering for hundreds of years and then we'll see who's trying to jump!" he barked back.

To his astonishment the room was completely silent. James put him down on the Headmaster's desk and went to his piece of parchment and started writing down lines. Sirius and Peter followed suit. Remus sat and waited for his friends to finish. After an hour and a half they were done. The Marauders filed quietly out of the room, James leaving last, and the Sorting Hat could just see a blister forming what looked like a nasty burn.

Back to the present…

No. No matter what Phineas Nigellus Black or anyone else said about the Marauders, they could be brave when they had to be. It would be ridiculous to expect people to be brave or wise or evil all the time. He could still call Gryffindor House brave. The Sorting Hat would just have to pair it with something else too like daring. Daring seemed like a good word to cover brave and reckless. Now as for Slytherin House…

He thought about Randolph, the son of Gryffindor house that he hardly knew. The young man who had held the title for thirteen years now, and the boy he had sorted into Slytherin House. He was not evil. The Sorting Hat supposed few of them were truly evil. They were a high strung bunch, but still human… they were human…

"Human flesh is sometimes considered weak," he mumbled to himself. "It naturally causes them to be careful. Careful wouldn't do it though. Self-preservation? Yes, that does sound a bit better. They're also driven. Oh, that was a very good choice of words. Both are open to interpretation."

With that he opened his mouth and began to sing.

Sorry guys. This chapter is already much longer than I anticipated, so I will not be writing a song in this one. XD However, you can be looking forward to an update soon because I've already finished the next chapter! Yay! Reviews are lovely. :)