A/N: This is the first in a series of Star Wars Hogwarts Sorting Hat stories. I haven't decided yet how far the series will go before I quit, but I definitely intend to finish this one and do at least a few others, too.

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, Harry Potter, or anything associated with either of them.

"People of many unique species and human races are to be welcomed to be sorted."

Oh dear, thought the Sorting Hat. These are some of the weirdest folks I have ever seen in my existence. Why, even basilisks are more ordinary to me than these oddball shapes and sizes. Just look at the first ones up. They look like they could rip us all to shreds, and yet they all look like one single man in multiple bodies! What sorcery is this? How do they do it?

"The Hogwarts program to sort people from other universes, so they may have a sense of identity when applied to their traits and values, is now underway. These mysterious comers are reportedly from a galaxy far, far away, and also traveled in time from a long time ago. I ask that everybody respect, or at least quietly tolerate, their…unique appearances, voices, and languages.

"But the first ones up are elite soldiers who are human, like us, but by some unknown means are look-alike copies of another man who is not present. The first few groups of people up are stone-cold troopers who call themselves Republic Commandos, who come in groups of four. First, a team who are known as Delta Squad!"

Four of the identical men stepped forward. They wore huge, formidable, white armor customized with colored paint, although one of them looked like he had blood painted on his armor and helmet.

"I don't see why we have to do this, Boss," said Sev cynically. "I already know what I like, and I like to gun down battle droids, Geonosians, and Trandoshans, in battle, nothing more."

"Aw, come on, Sev," said Scorch, "What's wrong with putting on a funny hat and getting your fortune told? Personally, I could learn something no Jedi would learn, and think about us having an advantage over our generals?"

"Technically, Six-Two," said Fixer, "the Jedi are going to get their 'fortunes told' eventually, too. It won't make us that unique."

"Oh boy," Scorch replied, "Personalities for everybody, not just our brothers! I'd love to see a civilian, or a Jedi, find out that we clones are going to rule the galaxy someday!"

"Keep up the ridiculous positivism, Scorch," remarked Sev, "Even Kamino loves an optimist."

"Quiet, boys," admonished Boss, "This isn't the time for our usual banter. Some of those odd-looking professors are starting to look at us funny. Let's just get on with this so we can get back to Sergeant Vau and our missions. Besides, maybe this ritual will help us find out some new ways to strategize and cooperate in battle. I'm sure Vau would have similar thoughts on the subject."

"Yes, sir!" said Fixer, Sev, and Scorch in unison, saluting.

"Boss!"

Boss stepped forward and sat on the chair. He sat uneasily, wondering if his body and heavy armor were going to make the puny thing break at any moment. The Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

"Hmm," said the Sorting Hat, "Evidently, you are a man of convictions, and will do anything to stand up for your…brothers, and your missions."

"Yeah, so I am," said Boss matter-of-factly, "I thought you would tell me which one of these 'Houses' I would belong in. I mean, we were all told the primary traits of the Houses, also, and we want answers, not mumbo jumbo."

"Well, in that case," said the Hat, "You'll know what I mean when I say that you are a…

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor gave some enthusiastic applause, evidently proud of anybody who fit into their house. Boss stepped down after removing the Hat, and rejoined his brothers.

"I'm glad to see that our sergeant is a brave young commando," complimented Fixer.

"I'd love to be a Gryffindor, too," said Scorch.

"We'll find out soon enough, boys," said Boss.

"Fixer!"

Fixer took his place in the chair next. As the Hat was placed on his head, it gave what had to be a sigh of both surprise and relief.

"I'm glad to see you copycats don't all think the same as well as look the same," it said.

"We don't copy each other, Hat," said Fixer indignantly, "As Republic Commandos, we all have a different purpose in our squad. We're like a hand. Each of us is a finger. Apart, we're nothing. Together, we're everything!"

"Hands also have thumbs, you know," remarked the Hat.

"Stop splitting hairs and get on with it!" said Fixer with amazing calm, but a stone cold voice.

"Picky, picky," mused the Hat. "Anyway, I can feel that you're a man who is very loyal and does everything as he is supposed to do it. Not altogether nice, I must admit, but you do the most work of your squad outside of combat."

"Yes? And?" demanded Fixer.

The Hat hesitated for a moment, and just before Fixer could lose his temper…

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The Hufflepuffs clapped in admiration of him. Blinking in surprise, Fixer stepped down. Evidently, he hadn't been expecting to land in the kindly, patient House known for its tolerance of all. He said as much to his squad mates.

"Oh, I don't know, Fixer," said Scorch, "You really are gentler with our blood-lusting foes than even I am, and I always thought it didn't serve for a soldier to be like that."

"It makes sense to me," said Boss, "Fixer's the most strictly loyal and obedient of us, and he does a lot of work with technology, too, you know."

They were interrupted by the next call. "Sev!"

Sev squinted, but he did as he was told, like all clone troopers did around superior officers. He stared at the chair for a second, as if it might suddenly come to life like the Sorting Hat and attack him. But he got over it and sat down, and accepted the Hat. As soon as it was on his head, it began to speak.

"Wow!" it said, "You are a man with a truly dirty mind!"

"Thanks," said Sev with a hint of a smile, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"I thought you would," groaned the Hat. "But anyway, you are somebody with a thirst to prove yourself to your training sergeant, by killing as many enemies as possible. And, being a sniper, your talents are quite cunning. Yes, there is no doubt about it.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Sev grinned and stood up. He obviously liked his sorted House. The Slytherin students all gave enthusiastic applause.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Scorch said. "You always were quite the snake, Sev!"

"You have to be, if you're going to butcher almost 5,000 flying Geonosians to avenge your brothers," said Sev, straight-faced.

"Scorch!"

Scorch, the one remaining un-sorted Commando of Delta Squad, took his place on the chair and tried to put on the Hat himself, but Professor McGonagall insisted that she do it herself. Scorch rolled his eyes but accepted her order.

"Ah," said the Hat, "Now here's one who is a little tricky. You are very brave, like most true warriors are. You also have deep bonds with your brothers, especially the one named Sev, and would do virtually anything for them. And you want to prove yourself as a good demolitions expert, too, I can see."

"I hope this doesn't mean I'm going to be sitting here until the nunas come home to roost," wisecracked Scorch.

"No, not necessarily," the Hat assured him, "Just don't interrupt me too much, and I will figure it out.

"However," it continued, "Although knowledge and learning new things are not among your favorite hobbies, you have a very witty personality and an ironic sense of humor. And that requires intelligence as well as talent. Yes, you had better be a…

"RAVENCLAW!"

Scorch liked the sound of that. The Ravenclaw table gave him polite applause, especially one young girl with dirty blonde hair and a dreamy expression on her face. Scorch shared a cute grin with her and returned to his brothers.

"It's the first real miracle I've ever seen," said Scorch, "and that includes the powers of the Jedi! A Hat can see my humor by just sitting on my head!"

"I've never believed in miracles, myself," said Sev, "They're for the superstitious. But I agree that Ravenclaw fits you like a gauntlet."

"Does this mean anything in particular?" Fixer inquired, "I mean, the four of us each being in one of the four Hogwarts Houses?"

"I'm no philosopher, brother," said Boss, "so I can't give you a great answer. But maybe an even mix of courage, wit, cunning, and loyalty, each of them coming from one 'finger' of Delta Squad's 'hand,' is what makes us such efficient Commandos. I think Omega's sergeant, Skirata, would say something like that. He's the man who first compared Republic Commando squads to four-fingered hands."

"Makes sense to me," said Fixer.

"Come on, guys," said Scorch, "Let's stop waxing philosophical and try some of those Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and Chocolate Frogs the kids love to devour, before we have to leave!"

"I have better things to do than eat amphibian confectionaries and beans like taste like mucus," Sev informed Scorch, "A jumping stomach isn't good for a steady sniping arm, after all."

"They won't make your stomach jump, Sev," said Scorch, "They'll just make you throw up a little. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Not after I make you throw up because of an ingested, powdered bantha horn," Sev shot back.

"Ooh, I'm so scared!" teased Sorch.

"Let us proceed! Next is Omega Squad!"