A swarm of young students stood outside on the steps leading up to Hogwarts. Several of them chatted nervously about the sorting to come. With each passing moment, the theories on what it would be like grew more and more bizarre.

Off to the side, away from the main group was an unusual boy dressed in brilliant purple robes and wearing tall black boots. His long auburn hair hung loosely down his back, whipping wildly every time the late summer wind gusted up. Occasionally, another student would look up, catching his opaque icy blue eyes on them before shifting uncomfortably and looking away. If the boy noticed it, he said nothing about it, continuing to observe his peers as if they were the specimens of some laboratory project.

Even more unusual than his appearance was the boy's name. Although he simply introduce himself as Albus when asked, there was quite a bit more to it. He was, in fact, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, a name as self-important as he felt.

Without warning, the door at the top of the steps creaked open, groaning loudly as if the hinges hadn't been greased in years.

"Attention please," said an elderly man wearing deep blue robes. "I am Headmaster Trimble and in a moment I will be escorting you inside for the sorting but first I need you to line up in alphabetical order by last name."

"Headmaster," one young girl squeaked, raising a trembling hand in the air.

The Headmaster eyed her curiously. "Yes, my dear?"

"Will the sorting hurt? My older brother said it's quite painful."

Gravely, the Headmaster nodded, the edges of his mouth bent downwards in a deep frown. "Yes, my dear. I'm afraid so."

A shudder went through the students as their imaginations began to run wild. Albus could see the anxiety creeping through them and was amused to find that they didn't pick up on the joke. He thought it was rather obvious that the Headmaster had been joking, but clearly it wasn't to everyone else.

"Alright," Headmaster Trimble continued with the same somber look on his face. "Have you all mentally prepared yourself for the horrors to come? If you find it to be too overwhelming, just remember that it won't last long."

Albus chuckled at the looks of terror on the faces of his fellow students.

Once all of the students were properly sorted, they filed quietly into the hall. The chatter that had floated through their group a few minutes earlier had died down as they all contemplated their fates. For the first time in his life, Albus was glad for his last name since he wouldn't have wait for long to determine where he would be staying during his time with the school.

As the students stood along the walls, Dumbledore noticed that most of them fidgeted nervously with the edges of their cloaks or twisted their hands over one another. In comparison, he stood tall and unmoving, silently observing the room around him.

The hall that they stood in was massive and cavernous. The ceiling mimicked the sky outside, changing from the firey orange color of sunset to the deeper purple of the night. Large candles floated throughout the air, giving a soft glow to everything. At the front of the room was one long table with Professors sitting behind it. In the main portion of the hall, there were four separate tables which Albus assumed were each for a house. He felt certain that in several moments, he would be sitting at the table with the red and gold drapery above it.

Albus' thoughts were interrupted when the many students at the different tables stood up and begin singing. He recognized the lyrics to be that of the school anthem and hummed along to the tune. He'd always imagined it sounding differently in his own mind and wondered if it was like that for anyone else.

The singing died down and a heavy silence fell over the room. Albus could feel the tension building around him. The student beside him trembled violently and for a fraction of a moment, Albus wondered if he ought not to feel nervous as well. Before he could give it much thought, Headmaster Trimble was walking to the center of the room carrying a stool and a battered hat.

As soon as the legs of the stool made contact with the ground, the brim on the hat opened wide and began to sing.

I am the sorting hat of Hogwarts

And though I may appear quite old

My character judgments are worth their weight in gold.

I can see inside your heart

And read what's written in your mind

Then take that information and place you with like kind

Do you belong to sweet Hufflepuff

Those who are compassionate and true

Kindness fills their heart

Loyal through and through

Or to clever Slytherin

Whose strategy is best

Their cunning, desire, and planning

Helps them pass most any test

Or to sharp Ravenclaw

Whose wit you can't compare

Always anxious to learn more

You'll find your true self there

Or finally to Gryffindor

The courageous and the bold

Though they may be headstrong

They're chivalrous or so I'm told

So try me on!

You've nothing to fear!

To ignore me would be a mishap

You're in safe hands, though I have none

For I'm a thinking cap!

When the hat completed its tune, polite applause broke out across the room. It appeared to Albus that this singing hat was a normal routine and he began to relax. Based on its song, he felt safe in his assumption that he would merely try the hat on and be told where to go. There would be no physical contests or demonstrations of skill.

Although he was loathe to admit it, this disappointed Albus sorely. His magic had begun to manifest at a young age and even without a wand, he'd learned to control and shape it. He'd hoped to be able to show off his talent in front of the student body, but he supposed it would have to wait for another day.

"Albertson, Ingrid," Headmaster Trimble called.

Albus watched as a tiny, shaking little wisp of a girl walked timidly to the front. Picking up the hat, she attempted to sit on the stool which was much too tall for her and ended up dropping the thinking cap in the process.

"Sorry," she squeaked, picking it up rapidly and dusting it off. A smattering of laughter rippled through the room.

Once seated, everything went silent as most of the students stared intently at Ingrid. Not even the scraping of goblets against the table could be heard.

"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted after a minute of contemplation. Quickly, Ingrid tore the hat off of her head, replaced it on the stool, and scurried off to the table that was cheering loudly for her.

Next, Burke, Caractus was sorted into Slytherin within seconds of the hat touching his head.

He was followed by Billingsly, Steven, easily the tallest first year in the group. The hat sent him to Ravenclaw.

Albus was lost in thoughts about how the hat selected each person. Was it based on what they valued the most? Or could it be the trait that the hat felt they possessed in the largest quantities? Was there some sort of formula for it? And aside from that, how could any one person possess only one of those traits?

"Albus Dumbledore," called Headmaster Trimble.

He was so deep in thought that he almost missed his name being called. Snapping to attention, Albus walked towards the stool and promptly put the hat on his head. Without warning, a voice appeared inside of his mind.

"My, oh my. You are an interesting one."

Albus realized that it must be the hat talking to him.

"Yes, yes, my boy. I can hear your thoughts. Now, where to put you? I can tell this will be difficult. Plenty of resourcefulness and cunning. You'd certainly do well in Slytherin. And intellect too. The sharpest mind I've seen in a long time. Ravenclaw could help you sharpen those tools."

I want to be in Gryffindor, Albus thought.

The hat paused for a moment. "Gryffindor? Are you sure? That was the last house I would've put you in. Are you certain you wouldn't rather be a Slytherin? They could help you be great you know."

Students all around the Great Hall started to shift uncomfortably as Albus' sorting dragged on. Up until this point, everyone had been sorted in less than a minute. It was unusual for the hat to consider someone for so long.

Albus tried again. I'm certain. I want to be in Gryffindor.

"I wouldn't normally, but may I ask why?"

Because I want to learn how to be brave, Albus thought. It's not a trait that comes to me naturally. It's something I have to work at, so what better place for me to start?

"If you're sure than, better make it...GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted the last word so the entire hall could hear.

Loud cheering burst out at the far table and Albus slowly walked towards it. For a second, the raucous crowd of students concerned him and he considered running back to the hat to ask it to change its mind. He wondered if maybe he'd made a mistake, but deep down he knew he was right. He had an abundance of cleverness and wit and compassion. Bravery was the thing he lacked the most and the one thing that he hoped he could truly improve on during the duration of his stay at Hogwarts.

"Congratultaions!" said a short boy, only a year or two older than Albus. "I thought for certain that you would end up in Ravenclaw. You look like the cerebral type."

"I am," said Albus quietly, "but I'm a lot of other things as well. I mean who isn't really?"

"Quite true. Names Elphias, by the way," the boy said, extending a hand, "Elphias Doge."

Albus smiled. "A pleasure. I'm Albus. Albus Dumbledore."

"You'll have to forgive the unusual pigment of my skin," Elphias said pointing at his face. "I had a bad case of Dragon Pox over the summer and although I'm well past being contagious, it has left this most dreadful greenish tinge on my body."

"I hadn't noticed," said Albus. Truthfully, he had noticed it right away and immediately understood its cause as well, but he thought it more polite to tell a white lie. "You look just fine to me."

Elphias eyed Albus curiously. "Thanks. Everyone else has been avoiding me all day. I think they're all worried they'll catch the pox if they get too close."

"But that's absurd," Albus roared. "Everyone knows that Gunhilda of Gorsemoor cured them ages ago. Besides, I think that the healers have drastically over exaggerated just how contagious it really is. After the first three days of illness there's little to no risk at all. Just the unseemly physical symptoms."

Elphias raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Are you sure you're not a Ravenclaw?"

Chuckling, Albus just shook his head. He and Elphias quickly became immersed in a conversation about the possible use of dragon's blood to strengthen the cure. They talked for an hour straight before looking up and realizing that the feast was almost over and neither of them had actually eating.

Stuffing their plates full of food, they ate rapidly, each content to have made a friend who could keep up with their own mental capacity.

Hi there!

This story was originally posted on HPFF for the Sorting Hat Challenge! The character I chose to write about was Albus Dumbledore! I always thought he might have a particularly challenging sorting because he could easily fit into each of the houses.

I hope you enjoyed the story. I'd love to know what you thought of it if you have a moment to drop me a line or two in the comment box below!

Thanks for reading!

~Kaitlin/TreacleTart