The Ballads of the Sorting Hat

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Song 1: Beware of the Hat

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Minerva strode into the Great Hall, the half exited half scared eleven-year-olds following close behind her. They were a pretty large bunch this year, so the sorting would take a little longer than usual most probably, especially if the hat decided for a long song this year.

Telling the kids to stand still where they were, she continued up to the three-legged stool the hat was perched on, and stood next to it, awaiting Hogwarts yearly dose of hat-music.

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I am a hat, that much is true.

Black and torn, and ancient too.

But mistake me not, for powerless and weak.

For there are plenty, of things we don't speak.

The things I've heard, and watched through thee.

Eleven years worth, all known by me.

I'd watch my back, and mouth as well.

If I were you, or perhaps I'll tell.

Of things so embarrassing, you'd want to hide.

Cowardly actions, not worthy pride.

Crushes and lies, I know them all.

So serve me well, or prepare to fall.

From grace and status, you've thus far gained.

It's oh so easy, to make relationships strained.

Remember Slytherin, the man so proud.

Underestimated me, and screamed so loud.

When he found out that I'd told, his stories of youth.

None of which, were laced with untruth.

But humiliating they were, and the snake wept bitter tears.

For Gryffindor now, had material for years.

Of ridicule and jokes, he found so very pleasing.

But perhaps it was, a little more than just teasing.

So he packed his thing, as fast as lightening.

And adorned a face, so so frightening.

That the kids in the halls, all ran and hid.

In classrooms and closets, completely unbid.

For the wrath of the green one, were unpleasant indeed.

As many had experienced, before from detention they were freed.

So he ran from the castle, as fast as he could.

And hid from all, that chase him would.

So watch your step, and hold your tongue.

Unless you want, to be one of which I've sung.

But none the less, let us commence.

Come put me on, regardless if you're tense.

You're not the first, and certainly not the last.

Of poor little first-years, of whom I learn their past.

Yes sit on my stool, hands in your lap.

Behave like one should, when faced a gossip cap.

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The silence following the song was deafening. And needless to say, the faces of the new students had gone from just a tad frightened, to completely mortified.

'Ah well', the old witch thought to herself, 'at least he didn't actually say anything embarrassing about someone this year.' She unfurled the parchment in her hands and began calling names.

"Anderson, Gwen!"

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AN: Soo… I suddenly had this urge to rhyme, and I've always found the sorting hat, which I've named Frank by the way, to be quite amusing. Or at least he always is inside my creepy mind…

Anyhow, this is what it turned out as, and whenever I feel the urge to rhyme, another "song" will be posted. Review? Please?

Basic disclaimer is to be applied as well, I always forget those, so I'll just put a big one here.

Chiichaan does NOT own Harry Potter!

CC out.