[HP] FIC: "Wheel of Fortune," Founders & Hat, G
Title: Wheel of Fortune
Pairing: The Founders and the Sorting Hat. Gen.
Rating: G
Summary: Ever wonder how the Sorting Hat was made? No? Well, read the damn fic anyway.
Notes: For hp_tarot. Thanks to Evan for the quick beta.
-
Godric gave me life.
People develop consciousness slowly, a little at a time over years of action and experience. I had no such luxury; one day I didn't exist, and then the next day I did.
His charms allowed me to speak, see, hear, perceive, and remember, but without reason or wit I was utterly dependent on him for everything. In the beginning, most of our conversations were rather one-sided, for I learned words as he spoke them.
At first, they were mostly obscenities - that is, until he realized that his spellwork had succeeded and I was listening. Then he started in on stories about the places he'd seen, the duels he'd fought and won, and the people he'd loved.
Once he said, "You know, I don't even know why I'm telling you these things. You're just a hat, after all, and what's more you've known some of my friends for just as long as I have."
"Not as you know them," I replied, and he laughed.
"Careful, Hat, or I'll begin to think that you enjoy being my captive audience."
Godric told me about his sister, his nieces and nephews and their children, and how he dreamed of a safe, nurturing place where they could learn their magic, where he could teach them to be brave and forthright and honourable in place of the children of his own his wife had never been able to give him. Hogwarts was meant to be that place.
I think he would have made a good father. Certainly he was to me.
-
It was Rowena who gave me my real wits and my real voice.
"Well," she said, taking me from Godric after he proudly presented her with his accomplishment, "what do we have here?"
"I'm a talking hat," I said, rather unnecessarily, but then again I wasn't very smart at the beginning.
"I bet I can make you a thinking hat," she said, smiling. "Would you like that?"
Mind, I didn't really have much of a frame of reference for liking or wanting, other than Godric and his stories, and even then it was much like comparing apples to pumpkin seeds. "I don't know," I said.
She laughed then, a warm and gentle sound. "You will, I promise."
Rowena's goal in life was, as far as I could tell, to know everything, and it didn't much seem to bother her that most right-thinking persons believe that there are certain things which are fundamentally unknowable. From the moment she took charge of me, she made it her goal to teach me everything she knew, and I proved to be quite the apt pupil.
She joked that I was the best student she could ever possibly teach.
"Why bother with the school at all, then?" I asked.
"Oh, I wouldn't want you to get cocky, Hat. Smart you may be, but people - especially children - will always surprise you." She grinned and stroked my brim affectionately. "Besides, hats can't write new books for my library."
And nothing, it seemed, was more important than her library.
She read to me from Aristotle and Ptolemy, told me the great stories about Kirke and Daedalus and Asklepius. More importantly, she wove enough charms and worked enough Arithmancy into my fabric that I could understand the old masters, appreciate the old stories. Her delight became mine.
I wrote my first poem for Rowena, but it was trash, really. I was terrible those first hundred years or so.
-
Unfortunately, in her zeal for learning, Rowena was less than gentle with me. I got ink-stained and dusty. I tore.
That's where Helga stepped in.
She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "As careful as she is with all those books of hers, you'd think she'd at least know a mending charm or two."
"I'm sure she knows the charms," I said. "She's just too busy thinking ever to use them."
Helga smiled. "We'll get on fine, Hat."
She cleaned me up and mended me, and she charmed me several protections as well. Silk doesn't last forever, but I think I've got a good shot at surviving a few hundred years more - or perhaps an invading Viking army - intact.
Never did I hear her say one cross word about the others, other than that passing quip about Rowena and mending spells. Helga spent most of her days stocking the Potions laboratory or caring for the thestral herd the Ministry had recently relocated to the forest bordering the Hogwarts grounds. She was always busy, always absorbed in her work, and always attempting to entice the others to join her.
"Hogwarts is the greatest thing I have ever done, Hat," she told me, "because the four of us are doing it together. Or rather, the five of us, if we include you."
"Why would you include me? I'm just a hat."
"So?" she asked, smiling.
-
Salazar got me last, because it was his job to make me a proper Sorting Hat instead of just a thinking one.
"Did Rowena teach you anything about Legilimency, Hat?" he asked me almost as soon as Helga handed me off.
"Rowena is far more interested in reading books than she is in reading minds," I replied.
He gave me a half-smile. "Yes, that's our Rowena."
I knew what the word meant - Latin was of course a vital part of my education - but Salazar taught me the magic, as well as his particular brand of sarcasm.
"There are very few wizards, Hat, who have the power that I have just taught you. I believe you may well be the most powerful magical object in Europe."
"And you're going to unleash me on the wide-eyed babes?"
He smirked. "Well, that was the plan. But first we have to make sure that you're working properly."
"How will you know? I have it on good authority that I do, in fact, have a mind of my own." I was, of course, grinning from seam to seam.
"Come now, Hat; surely you don't think you actually have a mind of your own. You have our minds."
I glared at him as best I was able - which was of course not well, as for all my sight I don't have eyes per se. "I hate it when you're right."
"Yes, yes, I know. Now about that test."
"I also hate the schoolteacher voice, just so you know."
-
"You shall guide us in our grandest adventure," Godric said to me just before he first placed me on his head.
"You shall be our grandest experiment," Rowena said.
"You shall assist us in our grandest work," said Helga with a kind smile.
And then Salazar said, an envious look in his dark eyes, said, "You shall with your knowledge command that grandest of virtues long after we four have turned to dust."
Whatever came next, I thought, at least it would be grand.
-
What's that? Feedback? For me? Oh, you're too kind.
Pairing: The Founders and the Sorting Hat. Gen.
Rating: G
Summary: Ever wonder how the Sorting Hat was made? No? Well, read the damn fic anyway.
Notes: For hp_tarot. Thanks to Evan for the quick beta.
-
Godric gave me life.
People develop consciousness slowly, a little at a time over years of action and experience. I had no such luxury; one day I didn't exist, and then the next day I did.
His charms allowed me to speak, see, hear, perceive, and remember, but without reason or wit I was utterly dependent on him for everything. In the beginning, most of our conversations were rather one-sided, for I learned words as he spoke them.
At first, they were mostly obscenities - that is, until he realized that his spellwork had succeeded and I was listening. Then he started in on stories about the places he'd seen, the duels he'd fought and won, and the people he'd loved.
Once he said, "You know, I don't even know why I'm telling you these things. You're just a hat, after all, and what's more you've known some of my friends for just as long as I have."
"Not as you know them," I replied, and he laughed.
"Careful, Hat, or I'll begin to think that you enjoy being my captive audience."
Godric told me about his sister, his nieces and nephews and their children, and how he dreamed of a safe, nurturing place where they could learn their magic, where he could teach them to be brave and forthright and honourable in place of the children of his own his wife had never been able to give him. Hogwarts was meant to be that place.
I think he would have made a good father. Certainly he was to me.
-
It was Rowena who gave me my real wits and my real voice.
"Well," she said, taking me from Godric after he proudly presented her with his accomplishment, "what do we have here?"
"I'm a talking hat," I said, rather unnecessarily, but then again I wasn't very smart at the beginning.
"I bet I can make you a thinking hat," she said, smiling. "Would you like that?"
Mind, I didn't really have much of a frame of reference for liking or wanting, other than Godric and his stories, and even then it was much like comparing apples to pumpkin seeds. "I don't know," I said.
She laughed then, a warm and gentle sound. "You will, I promise."
Rowena's goal in life was, as far as I could tell, to know everything, and it didn't much seem to bother her that most right-thinking persons believe that there are certain things which are fundamentally unknowable. From the moment she took charge of me, she made it her goal to teach me everything she knew, and I proved to be quite the apt pupil.
She joked that I was the best student she could ever possibly teach.
"Why bother with the school at all, then?" I asked.
"Oh, I wouldn't want you to get cocky, Hat. Smart you may be, but people - especially children - will always surprise you." She grinned and stroked my brim affectionately. "Besides, hats can't write new books for my library."
And nothing, it seemed, was more important than her library.
She read to me from Aristotle and Ptolemy, told me the great stories about Kirke and Daedalus and Asklepius. More importantly, she wove enough charms and worked enough Arithmancy into my fabric that I could understand the old masters, appreciate the old stories. Her delight became mine.
I wrote my first poem for Rowena, but it was trash, really. I was terrible those first hundred years or so.
-
Unfortunately, in her zeal for learning, Rowena was less than gentle with me. I got ink-stained and dusty. I tore.
That's where Helga stepped in.
She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "As careful as she is with all those books of hers, you'd think she'd at least know a mending charm or two."
"I'm sure she knows the charms," I said. "She's just too busy thinking ever to use them."
Helga smiled. "We'll get on fine, Hat."
She cleaned me up and mended me, and she charmed me several protections as well. Silk doesn't last forever, but I think I've got a good shot at surviving a few hundred years more - or perhaps an invading Viking army - intact.
Never did I hear her say one cross word about the others, other than that passing quip about Rowena and mending spells. Helga spent most of her days stocking the Potions laboratory or caring for the thestral herd the Ministry had recently relocated to the forest bordering the Hogwarts grounds. She was always busy, always absorbed in her work, and always attempting to entice the others to join her.
"Hogwarts is the greatest thing I have ever done, Hat," she told me, "because the four of us are doing it together. Or rather, the five of us, if we include you."
"Why would you include me? I'm just a hat."
"So?" she asked, smiling.
-
Salazar got me last, because it was his job to make me a proper Sorting Hat instead of just a thinking one.
"Did Rowena teach you anything about Legilimency, Hat?" he asked me almost as soon as Helga handed me off.
"Rowena is far more interested in reading books than she is in reading minds," I replied.
He gave me a half-smile. "Yes, that's our Rowena."
I knew what the word meant - Latin was of course a vital part of my education - but Salazar taught me the magic, as well as his particular brand of sarcasm.
"There are very few wizards, Hat, who have the power that I have just taught you. I believe you may well be the most powerful magical object in Europe."
"And you're going to unleash me on the wide-eyed babes?"
He smirked. "Well, that was the plan. But first we have to make sure that you're working properly."
"How will you know? I have it on good authority that I do, in fact, have a mind of my own." I was, of course, grinning from seam to seam.
"Come now, Hat; surely you don't think you actually have a mind of your own. You have our minds."
I glared at him as best I was able - which was of course not well, as for all my sight I don't have eyes per se. "I hate it when you're right."
"Yes, yes, I know. Now about that test."
"I also hate the schoolteacher voice, just so you know."
-
"You shall guide us in our grandest adventure," Godric said to me just before he first placed me on his head.
"You shall be our grandest experiment," Rowena said.
"You shall assist us in our grandest work," said Helga with a kind smile.
And then Salazar said, an envious look in his dark eyes, said, "You shall with your knowledge command that grandest of virtues long after we four have turned to dust."
Whatever came next, I thought, at least it would be grand.
-
What's that? Feedback? For me? Oh, you're too kind.