My first fanfic. Enjoy! From the sorting hat's POV.

It was the beginning of a new year, and a fresh batch of first years were all lined up, looking nervous and apprehensive. Great, I thought to myself. More ungrateful snot-nosed brats to sort. Call me bitter, but seriously, you try sorting little kids for a thousand years and see if you don't end up cynical.

To be honest, I'd rather have remained an inanimate object. Peering into children's brains is not very interesting. I mean, it's not even a challenge- everything is right there, you just have to recognize it and yell real loud.

And do I get any thanks in return? None! Whatsoever! I make the greatest freakin' decision in their lives, one to influence the future forever, and not once has anyone payed me even the simplest of courtesies. No please or thank you, just ,"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin!", or "But I have to be in Ravenclaw, my entire family has been there!" or something of that breed. It's horrible.

And of course, after it's all over, I just it and rot on a shelf for another year. Terribly boring. I have to make up the poem for the next year, of course, but that takes five days or so, a week, tops. For the 358 other days, I just sit and mope.

But I'm sure you don't care about the enterprise of a lonely hat. I certainly wouldn't. All I'll say is that it went on and on like that, until one Sorting, everything changed.

Professor McGonagall, fairly new deputy headmistress, unrolled the scroll, and began to call out names. I sorted them mindlessly, like my "brain" was on autopilot. I mused about the poor, loneliness of me, and what a sorry state my life was, and whatnot, so I didn't hear the name being called. I didn't notice that a new student was up until someone grabbed me eagerly and roughly shoved me on their head. I sighed inwardly, and started to search through their memories, past and present and future. I kept half an ear open in case they had anything to say, and it startled me when they did speak.

"Hullo, Mr. Hat. What's your name?" I was shocked. Never had anyone asked my name, or even greeted me, for that matter. What was my name? Oh, that's right. Dear ole Godric never gave me one.

"I don't have one." I said rather sharply, and voiced my musings to give her an idea of where she would end up. "Er, a great mind, clever, but not quite clever enough for Ravenc-"

"You don't have a name? How horrible! But no matter. I hereby dub thee..." I could feel her mind racing, thinking of a name. "Mr. Thaddeus P. Hatt, the great Sorting Hatt!"

I was shocked. I had a name! A very dignified one, I might add. Very courteous, I might add- ooh! I know just where to put her, I thought. But she wasn't done.

"The P stands for Cornelius, of course." What? "You are married to Mrs. Marie Gertrude Cappe Hatt, of the noble Cappe family. You have two children, Frederick James Hatt, and Hetty Rh-" I cut her off. Although I was touched, I needed to get her sorted. The others would be suspicious if it took too long. Sure enough, I could feel them shifting nervously.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" I shouted. And, as she took me off, I swear I heard her say,

"Thank you, Thaddeus."

Like it? Hate it? Could care less? Whaddya think?