Sorting Hat Troubles

AN: ok so this is a random plot bunny that bit me and would not let go until I wrote the story so I did to appease the silly bunny. But yes it was written simply for my own amusement and is supposed to be funny not taken seriously…. Ok, get it, got it… good.

Disclaimer: as we all know I own nothing, I am a poor college student so really come on do you think I own anything.


Sorting Hat Troubles

Harry had never had a good childhood, in fact quite the opposite, it was pretty bad. His relatives hated him for what he was, a "freak" using their words.

He was eleven by the time he was accepted as normal, when he found out that he was a wizard of all things. But hey they seemed to appreciate him, sure it was because he was the "Savior of the Wizarding World" but hey he'd take it if it meant that someone cared about him.

Harry had only seen a little of the supposedly vast world that wizards and witches lived in. What he has seen though was enough to shock and awe him completely.

He had gone with Rubeus Hagrid, the groundskeeper of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the school he was to be attending come September. Hagrid had shown him Diagon Alley, a sort of shopping district Harry supposed. They had gone there to get his school things, along with an owl as his birthday present.

The next part of the wizarding world he had been exposed to was the train, the Hogwarts Express, that took him to his new school. There he had seen many interesting things, mostly older students casting simple spells or whatnot, but still it amazed him.

All in all Harry had filled his shock quota for the rest of the year in a total of a few weeks, and he could tell that there was more to come… a lot more.

Now Harry stood in the great hall after having been ushered in by a very sour looking professor, McGonagall if he was not mistaken. As he stood there staring blankly at the world around him a stool and old, musty looking hat had been brought out. The hat spoke, shocking many of the first years, Harry however was too out of it to notice the song that it was singing. Not to mention that he had filled his shock quota so nothing could really shock him anymore, short of cousin, who was a miniature whale, coming out of the sky, stick thin, in a bright neon pink tutu declaring that he and his obese, overlording father were actually fairy princesses from another world.

The Sorting Hat as it was later found out to be called started on with its actual job, because to be frank it could not sing for beans.

The sour professor, whom Harry had taken to calling Old Maid Sourpuss, was going through the list of names. One by one the first years were going up and getting sorted into whatever house that the hat saw fit.

Harry was the last name on the list, because apparently the wizarding world unlike the muggle (as the wizards called normal people) world a thing such as alphabetization did not exist and thus Potter came at the end of the list. Harry strolled up to the little podium with the wobbly stool on it.

Wondering in his head, 'Is that stool really safe to have all these kids sit on it and with only three legs, I mean seriously THAT cannot be safe.'

He precociously sat on the stool refusing to sit completely. Then Old Maid Sourpuss put the hat on his head. Harry started thinking again, 'This hat cannot be sanitary, not only has it been on lots of heads, but it looks like something ticks or fleas or other germs and vermin would like to live in. Can you say dirty.'

The hat, however seemed to overhear him and not really appreciate what Harry was thinking. It said so as well, scolding Harry thoroughly and then getting on with its job.

The whole room was silent as the hat sat silent for longer than any other student in the looooong history of Hogwarts. Everyone was wondering what house would have the privilege of having the great Harry Potter in their house.

Finally after what easily could have been hours that hat looked like it was going to talk.

"Gryff-" it stopped short of finishing the name.

"Slythe-" once again it stopped short of finishing saying the name.

Starting again, "Gryfferin…. Slythindor…."

Everyone just stared at the hat, they started whispering among themselves. What was it trying to say???

All of a sudden the hat, who could not seem to place Harry, created a puff of smoke, well it was more like a miniature explosion. Then after the smoke cleared a small fire started on the floppy tip of the hat.

The hall was even more silent than before, so silent you could hear a pin drop all the way across the castle. Then the Headmaster stood up.

"My gosh Harry broke the hat."


AN: that's it that's all folks, review if you want or don't it's up to you, but they are always appreciated. Oh yes and flames will be left to burn so I can make s'mores.