[A/N: All Sorting Song lyrics in this chapter were written by me as a parody. No actual song lyrics are quoted in this chapter.]
Egg led them back into the entrance hall and, from there, into the Great Hall. Older students sat all around them on long tables, and as they entered the volume of whispers exploded around them. At the head of the hall, the professors sat at a long table, in front of which a plain wooden stool stood with a ratty old hat on it.
"Have I mentioned I hate being a celebrity?" Harry grumbled quietly to Hermione.
"I know, I know," she said.
"Blimey!" Neville pointed at the ceiling. A perfect replica of the night sky hung above them on the vaulted ceiling of the Great Hall, including all of the clouds.
"That's amazing!" Hermione said. "According to Hogwarts: A History, it's enchanted to look just like the sky outside. I wonder how they did it and if we'll learn how to do it."
"It's probably a massive runic array," Padma said.
"I'll bet you're right," Hermione said. "Do you suppose it's supported by a second one on top of the roof?"
Padma nodded. "I suspect it would have to be."
Harry decided to just nod like he knew what they were talking about, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Neville nodding in a suspiciously similar manner.
Egg drew to a stop once he had the whole group of them inside the Great Hall. "Please wait here," he said. "I'll go up to the front and read off your names. When I do, come forward, sit on the stool, and place the Sorting Hat on your head so it can decide your House for you. Your robes will automatically take on your House's colours, and you can then remove the Hat from your head and sit with your new housemates."
As Egg walked away, Harry took Hermione's hand. "Do you think I can just slip away without being Sorted and go where you go?" he whispered to her.
She smiled sadly and squeezed his hand. "I don't think it works like that. Besides," she poked his nose, "celebrity, remember? They'll notice if you don't go up."
Harry sighed.
Egg was back to his chair at the head table by then. He picked up a piece of parchment, but before he could speak, the Hat opened up a mouth in a place on its upper portion where a mouth probably didn't belong and said, "Mi mi mi" as if tuning itself.
"Oh, not this again," Egg muttered, but a squat woman in an otherwise nondescript chair in the centre of the table said, "Hush, Mordicus."
The Hat's "mouth" curved into a grin. "Professor Burbage was kind enough to play me some chart-topping muggle music over the summer," it said, at which point a blonde woman at the head table put her face in her hands, "and that inspired this year's song!"
I'm your Sorting Hat
I'm not your only hat
But I'm a little Sorting Hat
But really I'm not actually your hat
But I am
Na-na-na-na na-na-na-na na-na-na-na na-na
Harry's jaw dropped. "They Might Be Giants?!"
"What on Earth?" Hermione asked the universe in general. The only answer she got was more of the Hat's off-key singing.
Azure eagle in the tower far from the pitch
Who reads books to you
Make a little Sorting in your soul
Not to put too fine a quill on it
Say I'm the end GG in your sonnet
Make a little Sorting in your soul
I have a secret to tell
From my deep dungeon cell
It's a simple message and I'm leaving out the potions and spells
So the room must listen to me
As I implore vigilantly
To stick together in the face of adversity
Your story's infinite
Through children not born yet; it has no end
Yellow badger in the dungeons by the kitch-
-en watches over you
Make a little Sorting in your soul
Not to put too fine a quill on it
Say I'm the end GG in your sonnet
Make a little Sorting in your soul
I'm your Sorting Hat
I'm not your only hat
But I'm a little Sorting Hat
But really I'm not actually your hat
But I am
There's a dungeon deep below me
That guards secrets vigilantly
Its students prize cunning and ambition keen
Though I respect that a lot
I'd be fired if that were my job
After letting everyone in to make friends and sing
Old hat of chattiness
Like Sal's guardian it's always near
Red Panthera in the tower near the pitch
House of the brave and bold
Make a little Sorting in your soul
Not to put too fine a quill on it
Say I'm the end GG in your sonnet
Make a little Sorting in your soul
(and while you're at it
Keep the nightlight on inside the
Headmistress's office!)
Not to put too fine a quill on it
Say I'm the end GG in your sonnet
Make a little Sorting in your soul
Not to put too fine a quill on it
Say I'm the end GG in your sonnet
Make a little Sorting in your soul!
Deputy Headmaster Egg sighed and cleared his throat. "Thank you for another…unique song, Sorting Hat. Now, let us begin the Sorting. Abbott, Hannah."
The bubbly little blonde girl hurried up to the stool. She sat down, put the hat on at a rakish angle, and after a moment it shouted, "Hufflepuff!"
The trim of Hannah's robes changed to Hufflepuff colours immediately. She hopped down from the stool, put the Hat back on it, said, "Thank you!" and hurried over to the table where her new housemates were clapping for her.
The Sorting continued, moving inexorably closer to the 'G' names. Hermione was shaking with nerves, so Harry leaned over and whispered, "Any House would be lucky to have you."
"What if we're separated, though?" Hermione asked. "I…I don't want to be alone again."
"You never will be," Harry said. "I promise."
"Finnigan, Seamus," Egg called out.
"They're up to the 'F's," Harry said. "Don't worry. You've got this."
What seemed like an eternity later, but was probably only a couple of minutes, Egg called out, "Granger, Hermione."
Hermione gave Harry's hand a squeeze, stood up straight, and marched to the stool.
The Sorting Hat looked even older and rattier up close, but Hermione stuffed down her fears about head lice and put it on her head anyway.
"Hullo there!" a pleasant, androgynous voice said in her mind.
Hermione jumped in fright…or tried to.
"Don't worry," the voice said. "My magic keeps you from moving and hurting yourself while wearing me during the Sorting…and keeps me from getting head lice, though I understand your concern. In fact, that was one of the first enchantments Godric put on me after he got a bad case of them."
"You were Godric Gryffindor's hat?" Hermione asked.
"Yes, I was." The Hat sounded immensely pleased with itself.
"Of course I'm pleased with myself," the Hat added. "You would be, too, if you were such a great man's chapeau."
"So you can hear everything?" Hermione asked. "Oh, God, you mean you know about—"
"Yes, I do," the Hat replied. "But I can't reveal any of this to anyone or anything."
"Oh thank God," Hermione said. "You would be horrifying otherwise."
"I'm afraid I would," the Hat said. "Now, about your Sorting…my goodness, you are a rare one, aren't you? Bravery to match anyone in Godric's House, wits that would shock Rowena so much that she might actually take her nose out of her tomes, cunning that would impress Salazar himself, and loyalty that would bring a tear to Helga's eye."
"Thank you!" Hermione would have blushed if this weren't all in her mind. "You won't put me in Slytherin, though, will you?"
"No, my dear, I won't. In an ideal world, you would have a wonderful time there, but Sal's House is fast becoming a parody of itself. I haven't been able to sort a muggleborn there for nearly thirty years. The older students would either assassinate you by your Fourth Year or, if you survived, you would be forced to carve your own bloody path through that House on your way to your ascension as a Dark Lady," the Hat said. "I should like to avoid both of those."
"Me, too," Hermione said. "I…know what you mean about the darkness. I don't want to be that person again."
"Again?" the Hat asked.
Wordlessly, she showed the hat her memory of resentfully writing out a curt birthday card to someone who'd always ignored her and probably thought she was an annoying swot, then giving it to a scrawny little boy with sellotaped glasses and too-big clothes.
"You were never just that person," the Hat said, then played her the memory of her begging her mother to pick up Harry in their car so she could thank him for looking out for her and see if he was alright.
"That's kind of you to say," Hermione replied.
"I show you only the truth," the Hat said. "Regardless, that's one House ruled out. I'm going to rule out Ravenclaw, as well. You seek wisdom, true, but I fear you would quickly lose patience with the tendency of those in Rowena's House to accumulate knowledge solely for its own sake."
She'd have nodded if she could. "Good point."
"Naturally," the Hat said, sounding chuffed with itself. "Besides, the Founders charged me with the task of helping each student be the best version of themselves, and Ravenclaw will help you become nothing you will not become on your own. After all, Rowena did not need the support of that House to become who she was. That leaves—"
"Gryffindor," Hermione said quickly.
"Because you think your friend will end up there?" it asked her.
"Not at all! You just said—"
"That was a rhetorical question," the Hat said. "I know what you're trying to do…and yes, your unspoken rebuttal is correct: it is unfair that I have that advantage. Anyway, I can't put you somewhere just because you fancy someone who might be in that House."
"I don't fancy—"
"Ahem."
"Fine. I fancy him."
She got the distinct impression the hat was laughing at her. "Anyway," it said, "you know as well as I do the statistical chances for the success of your relationship. It seems to me that it would be more rational for you to ask what you want, not to go chasing after a boy."
"He's not just a boy," Hermione said. "He's my best friend. I don't care if he does fall in love with another girl…or another boy, for that matter! What I want is to have him in my life as much as possible for as long as possible. Besides, he needs me and I won't let him down."
"I'm sure…oh." The Hat fell silent for a moment. "My goodness, that's a lot to ask of a little boy. It's a lot to ask of you, too, though. I don't think you appreciate that."
"What do you mean?" she asked. "Harry's the poor sod who's going to have to do the dirty work."
"And you're the one who wakes up every morning and chooses to love him more than you desire the power of that wand."
"It's more than a choice," Hermione said. "I do. I can't change that."
"I think you underestimate the strength of your heart," the Hat replied. "I would never ask you not to love him, but I can't promise you his love, either. You've only three children you consider a friend, Hermione. Hufflepuff House would be a great place for you to make more, something you've worried about in the past."
"I'd rather be there for Harry," she said. "I'll risk the friend thing."
"You've put making friends on the back burner for your whole life so far, first because of your focus on grades and then because of your focus on helping Harry," the Hat said. "I'm not sure I should enable that here at Hogwarts, too."
"I have my priorities," Hermione replied. "I thought you were here to help me achieve the best version of myself, not judge my goals."
"What if I told you that you would achieve that greatest version of yourself if you learnt to live without him?" the Hat asked.
"Then I would tell you that I am Hermione Fucking Granger and I am going to be great anywhere you put me," she replied.
She got the impression the Hat was raising its eyebrows. "Language, child."
"I'm quite capable of speaking politely," Hermione said. "You're the one invading my thoughts and brassing me off. If you have a problem with that, put me into Gryffindor with Harry and fuck off out of my head."
The hat roared with laughter. "I like you! I hope Mr. Potter knows how lucky he is to have you as a friend, and that's why you'd better be Hufflepuff!"
Harry watched as Hermione slid off the stool with a murderous glare, put the hat back on it, and plastered a smile onto her face before walking over to her new Housemates, then he turned to Neville. "I think I need to warn the Headmistress to hide that hat," he said. "I don't want Hermione getting in trouble for incinerating it."
"Good idea," Neville chuckled. "I did not see that Sorting coming, though."
"Me neither." Harry shrugged. "Maybe the Hat's defective now, or just Sorting randomly."
"Could be," Neville said. "I guess we'll know if it Sorts me to Somerset House or something."
Harry snorted and tried to keep from laughing aloud while Greengrass, Daphne was Sorted immediately to Slytherin.
"Hullo, Neville Longbottom," a voice said inside Neville's head as soon as he put on the Sorting Hat.
"Hullo, Mr. Hat," Neville replied. "I apologise if I'm giving you trouble."
"Dinna fash, as Minerva might say," the Hat said. "How did you guess, though?"
"You Sorted some people immediately," Neville said, "but you're chatting with me."
"Clever!" the Hat said. "People don't notice that about you much, do they?"
"Not really," Neville said. "I'm pretty quiet. I'm not even sure Harry and Hermione have noticed. Hermione is just so smart that I can't compare, and Harry is always being clever."
"I'll bet they do notice," the Hat said. "I can see in your memories that they like hanging around you, and can you imagine them enjoying your company that much if they didn't think you at least somewhat clever?"
"That's a good point," Neville said. "Wait, you can see ev—"
"Yes, and don't worry, I can't tell anyone," the Hat said. "Besides, do you really think you're the only boy your age who has those sorts of thoughts?"
"Oh. I hadn't thought about it like that."
"Adolescents never do." The Hat sighed. "Now, where to put you?"
"Hufflepuff," Neville said.
"Why should I put you there?" the Hat asked.
"Because Harry is going to end up in Gryffindor and he'll feel better if I'm with Hermione," Neville said.
"Don't you think he'd want his godbrother with him?"
"He would," Neville replied, "but he'd want me with Hermione more. She's scared of being alone."
"You do realise that she's probably going to have between six and twelve people just in her year, right?" the Hat asked.
"I meant with someone who really knows her," Neville said. "She has trouble making friends."
"What do you want, though?" the Hat said. "My job is to help you reach your full potential, not help you help someone else."
"I'm not going to reach my full potential if I'm worried about one of my best friends all of the time," Neville said.
"You're not worried about Harry?"
"Oh, I am," Neville said, "but not as much. Also, I have no doubt in my mind that he'd tell me to help Hermione first, so I will."
"Fair enough," the Hat said. "I haven't even Sorted the lad yet and I can see from your memories that you're almost certainly right. He could end up anywhere, though. Well, perhaps not Ravenclaw."
"Definitely not Ravenclaw," Neville agreed.
"That still leaves Slytherin, for his apparent cunning," the Hat said. "If I send you to Gryffindor, you will be a great man, Neville Longbottom. Perhaps even moreso if you go there alone, out of your friends' shadows."
Neville did his best to shrug inside his own head. "That's as may be, but I'd still rather be in Hufflepuff. That's the good thing to do, and I don't give a piece of Leprechaun Gold about being great if I can't be good."
The Hat laughed happily. "And that, lad, is why you will be just as great, if not even greater, in Hufflepuff!"
Harry sighed in relief as the trim of Neville's robes turned yellow. At least one of them was with Hermione. He barely noticed when Morag MacDougal was sorted to Ravenclaw or when Ernie MacMilllan went to Gryffindor, and, soon enough, it was his own name that was being called.
The whispers and stares closed in on him from all sides as he walked up to the stool.
"Is that—"
"...Boy Who Lived…"
"...hero…"
"...fought off a vicious tree…"
"...kind of cute…"
He fought the urge to roll his eyes and focused on the Sorting Hat, doing his best to ignore the attention. It looked even rattier when he picked it up, but he knew he had to put it on and the sooner he got Sorted, the sooner he could sit down and hide from the attention again.
The stool was hard under his bottom, but smooth. He wondered how many generations of students had worn it down. "Here goes nothing," Harry thought as he put the hat on his head.
"Definitely not Ravenclaw," a voice said in his mind.
"What the fuck?" Harry tried to shout, but it only echoed in his head.
"Language," the voice chided. "Don't worry, though, my magic prevents you from moving or speaking during the Sorting, and I cannot reveal what I see in your mind to anyone else."
"That's good, at least," Harry said. "And don't blame me for the language! It's not like I can control what I say in here. You have a direct fucking line into my brain. I didn't even mean to curse that time! You've got me thinking about bloody curse words and now I can't stop using the little arseholes. Damn it!"
The Hat chuckled. "I understand. Now, where to put you? You're one of the bravest children I have ever Sorted, far more cunning than most of your peers, and a loyal friend to Hermione, Neville, and Luna. You would thrive in any House except Ravenclaw."
"Hufflepuff," Harry said immediately.
"I would be doing you a disservice to Sort you solely based on a childhood friendship," the Hat said, "even if you don't think that now."
"Damn straight I don't think that now," Harry grumbled. "Now, are you going to fucking Sort me to Hufflepuff or am I going to have to help Hermione set you on fire?"
It chuckled. "I'm surprisingly impervious, lad."
"You saw inside of her head," Harry said. "You know what she's capable of and what muggles are capable of now. How much do you want to bet on your imperviousness? 'Cause if someone's betting against Hermione I'll always take the other side." He paused. "Except football and other sports, I guess. She's pants at those."
The Hat paused. "You…um…may have a point about that. Let me ponder something for a moment…yes, I think I can tell you this much without violating confidences. Many years ago, another brilliant young witch came to Hogwarts with her childhood best friend. I Sorted her first and he was just as insistent that I place him with her as you are now." It mentally took a deep breath. "Mr. Potter, I could offer you power in Slytherin House, knowledge in Ravenclaw House, or greatness in Gryffindor House, and you would choose Hufflepuff over them all without hesitation, wouldn't you?"
"Of course!" Harry said. "Hermione is more important to me than all of those things."
"I thought so," the Hat said, and Harry got the impression it was nodding. "But what if I told you that Hermione's devotion to you would prevent her from achieving her heart's desire?"
"Oh." Harry paused. "I…I don't know. I don't want to get in her way, but I don't want to leave her alone if she's going to be unhappy, either."
"And there we go," the Hat said.
"Huh?" Harry asked. "How did that response tell you anything? I still don't know what to do!"
"That was what I was looking for. You thought of Hermione first. Oh, and that was a hypothetical, just so you know."
"That was cruel," Harry said. "Now I'm worried I'm going to mess up Hermione's whole life."
"Don't worry," the Hat said. "Just be a good friend to her no matter what, even if she falls in love with someone else."
That statement made Harry's stomach feel funny, but he tried to ignore it. "Hermione is amazing," he said. "I can't promise I won't be jealous of anyone else in her life, but I can promise that I'll be the best friend I can be to her no matter what."
"That's all I ask," the Hat said.
"What…what happened to that other boy and girl?" Harry asked. "Did he make the same choice I did?"
The Hat sighed again. "I'm afraid I can't answer that question for the same reason I can't tell anyone else that you may become the Master of Death."
"Oh."
"One of the downsides of being what I am," the Hat said, "is that I see how all of the stories start here at Hogwarts, but very rarely do I learn how they turn out. I sometimes get flashes of one child's future when their own child or grandchild puts me on, but that's it. You're still young now, but eventually you'll realise that you won't see the ending of every story, either."
"That sounds awful," Harry said. "How do you not go mad? I'd hate it if I was reading a book and there was no end."
"Let me tell you a secret: stories in real life never end," the hat said. "One day, you'll pass on, but you might have children or friends live on and, through them, your actions will echo down for decades to come. Don't curse a story for lacking an ending because the fact it doesn't have one yet means you can change it."
Harry felt himself smiling even inside his own mind. "Hell yeah. That's an awesome way to look at it. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Mr. Potter. Please give your friends a hug for me in Hufflepuff!"
[A/N: Thanks to TomHRichardson for the linguistic tip and suggestion about Gemma Farley in the last chapter. I tweaked it based on his suggestions. And yes, "Birdhouse in Your Soul" did chart in the UK. I know it was in 1990, but I wanted to use the song and I figured Prof. Burbage probably found it in a clearance bin somewhere and didn't know the difference. ADVthanksANCE to TMBG for not suing me for this parody. :)
Regarding Neville's Sorting, I think the key difference between canon Neville and Neville in this story is that canon Neville didn't seem sure he belonged in Gryffindor. Thanks to his friends in this story, Neville has the self-confidence to believe he could do well in Gryffindor. His choice is entirely due to his care for Harry and Hermione, not a lack of belief in himself. The Hat just needed to confirm that before making its choice.
Happy Holidays to you all!]