The Filthy Sorting Hat

Everyone left the room, crossed the Entrance Hall, and passed through a set of double doors at the back into an incredibly luxurious dining hall.

Students from the other years were already seated around four long tables, and thousands of candles floating overhead lit the hall.

Glittering gold plates and goblets were arranged on the four tables, and another long table stood on a platform at the head of the hall, reserved for the teachers.

Dumbledore sat in the middle, wearing a magnificent dark blue robe embroidered with numerous xx's and oo's. He looked every bit the wizard.

He had flowing silver-white hair and an impeccably trimmed long beard. Apart from those, his most striking feature was probably his long, hooked nose, which looked as though it had been broken several times.

He wore a pair of Half-moon Spectacles, behind which were two bright blue eyes with a penetrating gaze, as though they could see through people like X-rays.

There was an empty seat beside Dumbledore, presumably reserved for Professor McGonagall. Next to it sat a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

William quickly matched him to his description. After all, according to the twin brothers, the professors all had their own... distinctive qualities.

Or rather, they were a motley assortment of oddballs...

So this had to be the man they called the old bat, the greasy middle-aged man, Professor Snape.

William shook his head. Those two went too far when they talked. Their choice of words really was... accurate, precise, and meaningful.

Professor McGonagall led the first-years to the center of the hall and had them line up facing the older students, with the teachers behind them.

The candlelight flickered over hundreds of faces watching them, making them look like pale lanterns. Ghosts were scattered among the students, glowing with faint pinpoints of silver light.

Professor McGonagall gently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first-years, then brought over a pointed wizard's hat and set it on the stool.

The hat was patched, worn, and filthy. It looked as though it had never been washed.

William thought the hat belonged not on a stool, but in a sink full of Liby dishwashing liquid.

Was the Sorting test to see who could wash the hat clean the fastest?

Suddenly, the hat began to twist, as though doing the Shoulder Dance.

A wide rip opened near the brim like a mouth, and the hat began to sing to a strange tune:

"You may think I'm handsome, but don't try to fall in love with me. You'll only get hurt, and I won't feel guilty. After all, I'm the charming and lovable Sorting Hat."

William thought Professor McGonagall's lips had tightened even further. She would probably pull out her wand and cast a Silencing Charm on the Sorting Hat at any moment.

But William was disappointed. Professor McGonagall took several deep breaths, and her face became calm again.

William suspected she had used wandless, Nonverbal Spellcasting to cast Muffliato on herself.

The Sorting Hat was still making its horrible noise:

"Gryffindor, where courage lies buried in the heart;

Ravenclaw, where wit and wisdom come naturally;

Hufflepuff, where loyalty and kindness endure forever;

Slytherin, where ambition and aspiration are branded on the heart.

Hogwarts, the shared home of the four houses!"

The Sorting Hat twisted faster and faster, like a teenage rocker so lost in the music that he couldn't stop himself, though it was really just a middle-aged woman doing square dancing.

William was still a little relieved. Fortunately, the Sorting Hat didn't know hip-hop, or it might have treated them to a corny rap.

After a full ten minutes, the Sorting Hat finally finished its once-a-year, epoch-making concert. When the song ended, thunderous applause filled the hall.

The Weasley brothers even stood on their chairs and cheered. They were only a step away from rushing over to ask for its autograph.

The Sorting Hat bowed to each of the four tables, then fell still, though its mouth kept opening and closing. No one knew what it was muttering.

Looking at that mouth, a bold idea suddenly flashed through William's mind.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward a few paces, holding a roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat, sit on the stool, and wait to be sorted," she said.

"Arthur!"

A black-haired boy immediately went up.

The hat had barely touched his head when it shrieked, "Slytherin!"

The boy was delighted. He bowed slightly to the Slytherin table, where thunderous applause had broken out as well.

"Katie Bell!"

A rosy-cheeked little girl with long, messy blond hair hurried out of the line and put on the hat, which came down just over her eyes.

She sat down, and after a moment's pause...

"Gryffindor!" the hat shouted.

?

The table at the far left erupted in cheers. The twin brothers produced a megaphone from somewhere and made an enormous racket.

Percy glared fiercely at them, though his own cheers were quite loud too.

"Jarvan Campbell!"

A curly-haired boy rushed up.

"Hufflepuff!"

The people at the table on the right applauded and cheered for Jarvan, welcoming him to their table. The Fat Friar's ghost also waved happily at him.

Soon it was Cho's turn.

Cho walked slowly over to the Sorting Hat and put it on. This time, however, the hat hesitated for a long time before calling out, "Ravenclaw!"

"Oh, no!" Cedric covered his face, miserable. He hadn't expected his second year to get off to such a gloomy start.

Cho sat down beside Marietta Edgecombe, who had also been sorted into Ravenclaw.

"William Stark!" Professor McGonagall read out.

William walked calmly over to the Sorting Hat. It was even dirtier and more worn than he had imagined. Its fabric was already pilling, and there were patches all over it.

Worst of all, a cobweb covered half of it, and a little spider was staring at William.

Fortunately, it wasn't a cockroach. Otherwise, William would really have had to worry about the sanitary conditions throughout Hogwarts.

He picked up the hat, shook the dust off it, and placed it on his head with considerable distaste.

"Hey, kid, what's with that attitude?" a faint voice said in William's ear.

"Don't deny it-" The Sorting Hat's voice grew sharper. "I can see what you're thinking!"

"Ahem, let me take a look inside that little head of yours and decide which house you should go to..."

William scratched his dark brown hair. His scalp really did feel a little itchy, and the discomfort quickly spread through his whole body.

The Sorting Hat seemed to have suffered a great insult. Its pride swelling, it raised its voice again. "Never! Ever! Think such filthy thoughts about me!

"I'm a clean freak! Have you ever seen another hat that's had over a thousand baths?"

For a hat, over a thousand baths certainly wasn't a small number. But it had existed for at least a thousand years, so on average, wasn't that only one bath a year?!

The Sorting Hat clearly knew what William was thinking. It grumbled and fussed as it changed the subject.

Dumbledore coughed twice, reminding the Sorting Hat to hurry up.

Even if he wasn't hungry, how could those lovely students not be hungry?!

----I am the Sorting Hat's divider----

Sorting Hat: Wizards, all you have to do is vote with a recommendation ticket, and I can put you in whichever house you want.