Sorting Through The Years

Sorting Through The years.

I've been there since the beginning. From the times when I sat there, faithfully upon his head, to times when I sat faithfully upon his shelf. I have seen horrors of which many have yet to dream of, let alone experience, although I have no eyes, as such. Well, none of which are distinguishable anyway. I know of many things, I can judge, I can define a person, and I can tell what they grow to be.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again- I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me. Yes, I'm probably the most intelligent garment you will find anywhere in this Merlin-forsaken land.

Battered, patched, darned and repaired, yet I have not yet lost my touch. Oh no, that is not to happen for another thousand years at least. Should it ever happen at all, which is something I seriously doubt. Tough as old boots, I am.

Godric Gryffindor set this job for me, gave me life, and I promised to carry it out for the rest of my time. And I will do just that. I will sort you little lot out, to see where you belong. I particularly enjoy sorting people into Gryffindor house, as I suppose you probably guessed. I was Gryffindor's hat, after all. You could, I suppose, accuse me of being biased.

Most people are easy to place, you know. My job is rarely difficult. Most have a distinguishable attribute- Intelligence; of course it's got to be Ravenclaw, hasn't it? Rowena was extremely skilled.

Loyalty, well, Dear old Helga would most certainly have enjoyed their company. Loyal as anything, that woman was... You could always count on her to be there, giving you support.

Cunning and slyness? Well, where else but Slytherin? Salazar was as cunning as a fox.

And finally, Bravery. Something Godric never wavered in. He was courage; no threat could ever have made him back down from his convictions, so it's perfectly fitting to place a courageous student there.

Of course, there were people who were stunningly hard to place, and some were very interesting... I remember one sorting. It stuck in my mind, and to this very day, I wonder to myself, that had I not placed him there, would he have been the same? Would have grown to be what he was?

'So... Where to place you, Tom?'

'Well, I don't know.'

I delved into the corners of his mind, searching for ideas. What I came across, I did not expect. Cunning, like I had never seen. Not for a good thousand years, at least... Poor boy, he had grown up without a friend in the world, he was so lonely, yet incredibly sly. Sneaky, capable of obtaining anything he desired. Only one person I ever knew possessed sly and cunning in such a way. Salazar Slytherin. Maybe, just maybe... Was this boy related to him? Or even, his heir? The heir to Slytherin? I couldn't ignore the fact that he was perfect for Slytherin, even though I had nagging doubts about whether he should be placed there. I would expect great and terrible things from him, should he be placed there. But, sadly, it is my job to determine which house he was best suited too, that is my duty; my whole purpose for existing. So I reluctantly called out,

"SLYTHERIN!" Thus, sealing the fate of the wizarding world, dooming them to terror and pain for years to come. If only I had known.

If only I had known. Yes, I suppose it may have been partially my own fault that he grew to be what he was. Maybe had I placed him in Ravenclaw, for his intelligence exceeded that of any student I had ever sorted, he would have been different. Maybe. But his mind reeked of 'Slytherin.' Another case, I suppose, that was very difficult to place was on boy, many years, almost fifty years later.

'Hmm... 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?'

I delved in deeper, seeing that he would be suited to two houses; Slytherin and Gryffindor. Hmm, tough choice. My mind was a little bit more towards Slytherin, but he, on the other hand, was a little reluctant, to say the least.

'Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin.'

So he didn't want to be Slytherin? Hmm, interesting. But he reminded me so much of Tom, it was scary. Not a friend in the world as he grew up... Just like Tom.

'Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness, no doubt about that- no? Well if you're sure-better be-'

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Now, thinking back, he was perfect for Gryffindor. Well, he's done great things, as I promised. He was one of those sortings I was and am proud of. Very proud. But there were mistakes. Tom, maybe was one of them. Probably. I suppose people change, and no longer are suited to their original house, though I'm sure this is an incredibly rare occurrence.

People ask what I do all year. The answer is, I think up my songs, that I sing before each sorting ceremony, but what else when I have finished? Well, as I sit here on the shelf of Albus Dumbledore, in having nothing else to do, I reminisce. I think of the difficulties, the easy sortings and the mistakes (though I am sure I have few). I reflect on decisions that could have shaped a person, for each choice has its consequences. In placing Tom in Slytherin, he had grown to be the most terrible wizard Britain has ever known. In placing Harry in Gryffindor, the wizarding world has hope. The light that shines through the darkness.

I suppose you could say that I'm sorting through the years...