On Being a Sorting Hat

If you ever want to have a good long time to brood over past decisions, I recommend being a sentient hat. If you want to have plenty of past decisions to brood over, you could also try being responsible for the education of almost all of wizarding Britain.

Every year, I decide what to tell the children. 'You are a Gryffindor,' I say... and that tells him that his courage is more important than his intelligence. I wonder, sometimes, what would happen if I placed someone in a wildly inappropriate house. What if Cedric Diggory had been a Slytherin, like his father? Would that honor I sensed within him still have blossomed-- or would he have striven to be the perfect Slytherin, cunning, ambitious and ruthless?

I can't do that, of course. I have to put people where they belong. I have a little wiggle room, however, because I'm allowed to factor in requests. I'm even allowed to make suggestions.

Sometimes I do that. I might try to talk them into it, or I might just want to draw their attention to some virtue they need to recognize within themselves. I persuaded Andromeda Black to let me place her in Ravenclaw, for instance. It was certainly the right house for her, but she wanted Slytherin, and that was a close second. I'm glad she didn't go there; some tendencies shouldn't be encouraged. Her daughter Nymphadora was a Gryffindor, and wanted to be--yet I tried to invite her to Slytherin, knowing she would refuse. I saw the same darkness within her that I had seen in her mother and her mother's sisters, and Nymphadora needed to be aware of it. Had I thought she would accept, I never would have suggested it.

There were some I didn't try for. Tom, for instance. He was almost pure Slytherin. I didn't stand a chance--and even if I had, I wouldn't have bothered. He was a lost cause, even then.

I tried and failed sometimes, too. I didn't really stand a chance with Bellatrix, but I tried to convert her to Gryffindor. Tempered with chivalry, her courage and conviction might have produced something impressive. Also, there was a cute little muggle-born girl in her year who I had already placed in Gryffindor, who could almost certainly have befriended her. There ARE a few hopeless cases at age eleven, but not very many. As I understand it, that girl was murdered during the first war. She'd been tortured with the Cruciatus curse beforehand, apparently.

I also tried with Peter. It was only a couple years ago that Dumbledore told me the truth about him--that Peter had not learned courage in Gryffindor. There are times when one would rather not be right.

I told him Gryffindor wouldn't be good for him. He had a loyal, loving, decent streak a mile wide. Had he been in Hufflepuff, those traits would have been encouraged, and garnered admiration. Instead, he elected to be in Gryffindor, where he was overshadowed by those who took courage as easily as breath, and could not recognize that a struggled-for act of bravery was just as precious as an easy one. Peter should never have been in that dorm.

And sometimes, I'll take a long time over someone obvious. Neville Longbottom, for instance, was one of the truest Gryffindors I've ever sorted... but he needed someone to tell him that. I understand he acquitted himself quite honorably in the Department of Mysteries last spring.

No doubt you think I take these things far too seriously, but consider: I decide what people almost every witch and wizard in Britain will spent seven years with. Almost all close friendships, during their school years, will be with others in their house. And the identity I give to them at age eleven will travel with them the rest of their lives. It's certainly something to brood about.