Death's Mediator

Never knew hats could sing

Chapter IV

September 1, 1991 – Great Hall, Hogwarts, Scotland

Vera snorted as she watched the snitches of the hat spread open along the brim and the folds squinted into something that seemed to be eyes although the hat cannot see. All the other children surrounding them gasped in shock and all of them seemed wary, especially once the hat started to sing.

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

His voice was raspy as it sang with a certain bounce in it. Everyone started clapping after the song had finished, and once they had all calmed down McGonagall took control of them once more.

She stood there up in front of them with a roll of parchment in her hands which she had used to direct them all to where they were supposed to stand, "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," her Scottish accent was barely there.

She unfurled the roll and began by calling out the first name, "Abbot, Hannah!"

Vera held onto Cypress as they watched a pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumble out of the line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. Vera cataloged her looks and name and put together any sort of information she could on the girl. If she was right, then the girl came from a weak pureblood family that had very few contacts and almost no political pull in the ministry.