Chapter 7 - The Snotty Hat
Grayson led the way into a small chamber and opened up a cabinet, which along with a small chair were the only furnishings. In it sat a hat very similar to the one Ginny remembered, but about 900 years newer. It yawned, the rip in its brim opening wide. “Morning, Professor Gleason. It’s not time to Sort already, is it? It’s three in the morning for crying out loud.”
“Hat, I’ve told you before, it’s Grayson. And Miss Weasley wants to get an early start.”
“Weeeasley?” The hat scrunched itself up. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that name. Anyway, I’m busy. Come back in a few hours.”
Grayson sighed and shook his head. “Hat, just how can you be busy? You have one function and that is to sort students.”
“I’m working on my song for this year.”
“Oh, right.” To Ginny, Professor Grayson explained: “Our hat doesn’t sing. We don’t have an official Sorting ceremony here. Kids are sorted in private, as they arrive.”
“And anyway, you don’t even pay me,” the hat said cheekily. “Maybe I should go on strike. Try for a raise. Maybe even dental benefits.”
“Dental benefits?! You’re a hat, for crying out loud! You don’t even have teeth!”
“Then a dental plan for me shouldn’t cost much, should it?” The hat snickered. “By the way, I came up with a song to sing this year. Want to hear it?”
“No.”
The hat began singing anyway, in a really obnoxious voice:
“There once was a girl named Jill,
Who used dynamite sticks for a thrill.
They found her. . . .”
“HAT!” Grayson shouted. He knew that rude little limerick already.
A voice from behind them: “Welcome back, Ulysses. How was Merry England?”
Ginny turned to behold a woman who was somehow a dead ringer for Professor McGonagall even though she looked almost nothing like her. Unlike Ginny’s former head of house, this woman was blond-haired with dark green eyes, and was dressed in pale blue robes trimmed with silver. However, she had the exact same look in her eyes: you knew immediately that you didn’t want to be on this woman’s bad side.
Seeing Ginny, however, she allowed herself a smile. “So, you’re the one that Professor Dumbledore was bombarding me with letters about. Let’s have a look at you.” She eyed Ginny from top to toe. Ginny was glad she had worn her nice robes. “Professor Dumbledore has told us to expect great things from you, Miss Weasley.”
“Ginny, this is Estella Chance, our esteemed headmistress,” Professor Grayson said. “Estella, may I present Miss Ginevra Weasley.”
“It’s Ginny,” said ‘Miss Ginevra Weasley’ as she shook hands with Professor Chance. “I’m happy to be here.”
“Good. Have you been sorted yet?”
“Well, the Hat is up to its old tricks again,” Professor Grayson said, a bit shamefacedly.
Professor Chance sighed and then grabbed the hat by its tip and proceeded to shake it awake. “Hat!”
The hat opened one of the two smaller slits above its mouth, which presumably served as eyes. “Yeeees?”
“Time to do your job. This young lady needs a place to live.”
“Well, there’s a nice abandoned barn a few miles from here.”
“I do not house my students in barns, abandoned or otherwise. Now sort Miss Weasley, or I’ll turn you into a pair of underwear.”
Perhaps not surprisingly, Professor Chance’s threat seemed to have the desired effect on the hat. “Oh fine,” it growled. “Let’s get on with it, then.”
Ginny stepped forward, addressing the hat. “Sounds like you have a bit of an attitude.”
“Probably picked it up from the minds of all the little twits who’ve put me on over the last hundred years,” the hat sassed.
“Not a welcome change,” Professor Chance said cooly.
“Well, learn to deal with it, unless you want to do your own sorting,” growled the hat. “Hey, brat. Why don’t you put me on? I can't see into your little bird brain from here, you know."
"Don't worry," Grayson said as Ginny picked up the hat, a little nervously, as if she thought it might bite her. "Once you put it on, it'll behave."
"Correct," Professor Chance confirmed. "That's the deal. It does its job once it's on, and we put up with its. . . quirks the rest of the time."
"Well, get on with it," the hat said to Ginny. "Unless you’d like me to just flip a coin. Which might be a little tough, seeing as how I don’t have hands.”
Ginny put the hat on, and felt a familiar sensation, that someone else was in her head. But before she could say anything, before she could think anything, a little voice spoke to her.
“Hmmm. . . yes, you’ve been here before. And my counterpart also had difficulty with you, didn’t he? Yes, you remember it all, even his exact words: ‘Courage, yes, but such kindness and loyalty. And intelligence too, yes indeed, but a strange darkness growing within you. . .’ well, at least the latter’s gone now.”
Ginny was amazed. That was almost exactly what the Hogwarts Sorting Hat had said to her, two years before.
“I see inside your head, and that includes your memories,” the hat said, answering the question before she could ask it. “But don’t worry, I’m also forbidden to reveal anything I see to anyone else, even the headmistress. Anyway, to business. You already know we have four halls. And you know that one is the Hall of the Bear. Only those who possess great inner strength can join them. A Bear can face the unthinkable and still go on. We also have the Hall of the Wolf. Wolves are brave and loyal to their own. And then there’s the Hall of the Dolphin, where those who are cleverest go. When a Dolphin faces a problem, they think carefully before they act. And last, there’s the Goose. Those of that hall are fond of working together, sharing their burdens, and aiding one another in word and deed.”
Ginny began to think something, but once again, the hat knew her thought before she could even generate the words in her head.
“No, Ginny, no Slytherin here. All four of our noble halls have produced fine citizens of the magical world, men and women who will never be forgotten. And all four have produced wizards and wizardesses whom they would as soon forget. At this learning institution, it is the decisions you make, not the hall you are sorted into, that determines what you become.”
Another twitch in Ginny’s mind as she came up with a question. As before, it was answered instantly.
“Good, they told you not to use the term ‘witch’ to describe your fellow female students. Don’t forget that; if you call yourself a witch here, you’re likely to get some funny looks. And if you use it on someone else, you might find yourself in a duel.”
A pause as the hat seemed to gather itself. Ginny’s mind generated more questions, but they went unanswered. Perhaps the hat only responded to relevant lines of questioning.
“Ooo-kay,” the hat finally said. “There’s intelligence there, indeed there is, the Dolphins might well accept you as one of their own. But you don’t think your way out of trouble, do you? No, you prefer to take action, even if it’s the wrong action. Admirable in its own way, yes, but not a Dolphin trait. . . you believe in team work, you’re helpful, you love to aid and comfort your friends. You’d make a Goose, yes indeed. But look here, your courage and loyalty. . . you are a paragon of both. Yes, you could be a Wolf as well. But what is this?” A pause, as the hat looked deeper. “Oh my, yes, how interesting. There’s iron in here, Miss Weasley, iron inside you. You watched your very life crumble around you, through no fault of your own. And yet you endured.”
Yet another thought of Ginny’s was intercepted at the source.
“Yes, I know. You did so little for so long. You read, you helped your mother, you flew, you stayed out of sight. You felt like you were spinning your wheels and going nowhere, and you were, but there was nowhere you could go. So it was all you could do. But when you were tempted to give up, to let despair claim you, you fought it off. Most admirable. Hmmmm. . . so hard to decide. Not Dolphin, not for you. Certainly Wolf would suit you, maybe Goose, but your strength, the way it resonates deep within you, permeates your soul. . . no, there can only be one proper place for you, especially since you want to be there anyway. I, the Silver Grove Sorting Hat, sort you into BEAR!!”
The last word was thunderous in the tiny chamber, and Ginny knew that it had been heard by all. Lifting the hat from her head, she looked at her two new teachers. She didn’t know what to say. “Bear,” she said, and immediately felt silly.
“All right,” Professor Grayson said, smiling at her. “Let’s show you around.”
“Just a second,” Professor Chance said. “I want to talk with her in my office first.” She turned toward the door. “Come along, Ginny.”