So, this is the epilogue, the addendum, the post script. It's short, but I hope you like it!

For the first time in its centuries of service, the lock to the Headmaster's office popped open without his permission. A little bit of jiggling and a swear or two later, the door yielded as well, and three witches stepped into the office. It was night, and the portraits lining the walls were sleeping, their collective snores creating a gentle hum, like a lazy beehive.

"Brista," said the tallest witch. "You'll scrub the magical background? I'm sure one of these paranoid wizards installed intruder alarms somewhere. They might record us, even if they're deactivated." But she didn't have to explain, the black-haired witch was already sweeping her wand through the air. "Orianna," continued the woman, "Get the hat. Make sure it doesn't scream. I'm going to have a look through some files."

The youngest witch tiptoed over to the massive bookshelf. She looked determined, though there was a hint of uncomfortable fear in her eyes. She gazed up to the ragged, burnt hat sitting in a glass bell jar on top of the bookshelf. She still had her wand in her hand from when she entered the room, but she looked at it doubtfully.

"No more magical evidence that we were here than is absolutely necessary," Claire had reminded them before they entered. So Orianna just dragged over a tall stool, and stood on that. She reached out to lift the jar, but paused, her hands hovering over the glass. She told herself that she was just afraid of the glass carrying some kind of nasty enchantment, but after an inhalation, she lifted it without any further precautions.

The Sorting Hat opened its eyes and turned to Orianna. "Ah," it said calmly. "Miss Zyther the Elder. I cannot say I am surprised to see you here. Though I suspect I may be wrong, I hope that you have only come to ask about my verdict?"

"No!" she hissed, checking the other two over her shoulder. They were still involved busily in their tasks.

"I understand, but I cannot help but wonder... You are a talented witch, the question then and now is in which direction you will direct that potential. I saw that in your sister as well, she was even more difficult than you in her own way..." He could probably go on like this for hours, Orianna realized. She didn't have hours though. Professor Elihphile was overseeing the End-of-Term Feast, but he would be back shortly. And that wasn't even mentioning Brista and Claire.

"Shut it!" she muttered. "I don't care about my sister."

The hat sighed. "Yes. Yes, I know. That, I suppose, was one of the final factors in my decision. Even for Slytherins, empathy is an important characteristic. If you cannot relate to your own family..." but their conversation was interrupted.

"Having fun?" asked Claire almost nonchalantly, though there was a hint of venom in her voice. She was watching the two of them, a few files under her arm. "Get it down here, so we can set it up for retrieval later."

"Later?" asked Brista. "I thought we were taking it now!"

"No. We have had enough publicity for this year, thanks to your failure to contain the only witnesses."

Brista opened her mouth to retort angrily, but Claire shot her a look. It was a calm glance, but something about it terrified Brista, for she hunched over and shrunk back, like a beaten dog. Claire began to poke at the hat with her wand. The hat stared back indifferently. Occasionally, it would give Orianna a meaningful glance, though she couldn't figure out what it was trying to say.

Brista was all but cowering in the corner, and Orianna felt that someone had to figure out what was going on. "Won't the hat talk? Tell Professor Elihphile we were here?"

"No," muttered Claire, stroking her wand down the back of the hat, "This hat is a very funny little object. It has a strange sense of purpose that's hard for normal people to comprehend. The founder's imbued it with a certain...foresight. Normally, it just uses it to judge students, but it can give warnings too, as you probably noticed. I think it knew this was coming, and the fact that it hasn't already informed the Headmaster is a fairly good indicator that it isn't going to."

"Hmm," replied Orianna. "It just seems more complicated than it needs to be. Leaving it here is risky."

"Every moment we hold it is risky. They can track powerful, old magic artifacts, the less time we spend with it in our possession the better. Besides, I can't do anything with it right now. I'm going to need to spend more time researching before I really try to..." She straightened. Her work was done. "...break in." She winked malisciously at the hat, which returned her gaze unaffected. "Put it back, Orianna," she intoned softly. "Brista, come on. Let's go."

Orianna grabbed the hat with unnecessary haste and put it back on the shelf, trying not to meet its eyes, or the folds where they would be. By the time she got down and carefully replaced the stool, the other two had already left.

"The door will lock behind you," said Claire from the entrance, "So make sure you haven't left any evidence."

Orianna gave the room a quick sweep, but it appeared the same as it had a few minutes ago. She made to close the door, but the hat interrupted her.

"It could have been different, you know," it said softly. Through the glass of the bell jar, Orianna wasn't even sure she had heard right. She made a soft noise of what was supposed to be disgust, and closed the door.

Well that's it for Sarah's first year. Now I have a problem though. I really need to spend more time working on my own stuff instead of fanfiction, because as fun as this is, and as much as I love and appreciate all of you for reading it, I need original material. I'll try to continue with Sarah's story at Hogwarts, I promise this one is only scratching the surface, but my updates might not be as regular. Put me on Author Alert just in case though, and send me lots of encouragement :P