Sorted

"Lovegood, Luna," called out Professor McGonagall.

Luna ambled into the great hall, scratching her ear as she walked.

"Today please, Miss Lovegood."

With a slight sigh, Luna picked up her pace and sat down on the battered wooden stool. Oblivious to the stares and the murmurs of the school, she picked up the sorting hat and cast an appraising eye over it, as if looking for flaws in its stitching.

"On your head please, Miss Lovegood," said Professor McGonagall, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Luna turned the hat over one last time in her hands, shrugged, and placed the hat on her head.

She jumped slightly as a voice exclaimed in her head, "Oh! Oh now that is interesting. You've got brains certainly, and no shortage of bravery either. Not a whole lot of ambition. Loyal though. Let's see…"

"Hold on," thought Luna.

"Pardon?"

"I said 'Hold on'. Or rather, I thought it."

"What do you mean, 'Hold on'?"

"I mean I want you to slow down. What are you doing?"

"Weren't you listening to my song?" came the voice of the hat in her head. "I don't write them for fun, you know. I'm sorting you. Putting you in your house."

"Yes, yes. I know that. But why?"

"Why? Because I'm the sorting hat. It's what I do."

"But it isn't right, is it?" Luna was thinking very slowly and deliberately now, pausing over each thought before vocalising it in her head. She had her eyes closed, her head tilted back, and her tongue dangling out of her mouth, and was oblivious to everything but her own thoughts, and the hat sitting on her head. "I mean, it hardly seems fair."

"Oh?" The hat sounded intrigued.

"That we get classified like this, and everyone decides what we're like from that." She paused. "And that you choose our house for us. What if I want to choose for myself?"

"You'd be amazed just how often I get asked that."

"Never?"

"Exactly. Though as it happens, I do have explicit instructions from Dumbledore to let anyone who asks me choose for themselves. He specifically reminded me of this last night. So what's it to be for you then?"

The sorting hat paused, clearly expecting an answer, but none was forthcoming.

"How about Gryffindor?" it prompted, about five seconds later. "I think you'd do well there."

"No, I don't think so."

"Ravenclaw then? You're certainly smart enough."

"No, not Ravenclaw either."

"Hufflepuff then? I'm sure that Helga would have liked you, and I can speak no higher praise than that."

"I don't think Hufflepuff is right for me though."

"Well then, if you're sure. Though I never would have figured you for Slytherin."

"I'm not." That thought was more rushed and less deliberate than the rest.

"Oh. Well I see. So what am I to do with you?"

"I don't want to be in any of the houses. I want to be on my own. None of them are right for me, and I don't see the point in this whole sorting thing anyway."

"My my, you are the smart one, aren't you? I'm afraid you leave me no choice." Without a pause, the hat shouted at loud, "Ravenclaw!"