You're My Density (Completed)

Chapter 9: I'm the Sorting Hat

The sorting hat was without doubt one of the most revered magical relics of the Hogwarts' founders. Hermione didn't pay that reverence any mind whatsoever. The hat had hurt her Harry, and only the fact it was on his head at the time stopped Hermione drawing her wand. Instead she swiftly ripped that tattered old hat off her intended and uncaringly cast it aside. To Hermione, Harry's welfare was far more important than any magical headwear.

Harry was swaying on the stool so, in a scene scarily reminiscent of Halloween, she sat on the floor and guided her intended down beside her. Helping Harry's head gently find her lap, Hermione was soon running her fingers through his hair. She was trying to offer him some sort of comfort as Harry's entire body was currently shaking.

"Hermione... I think I preferred wrestling that troll. This was much worse..."

Hermione then found herself being shouted at by an aggrieved sorting hat. "Why did you stop me? Have you any idea what you could have done?"

"You were hurting Harry..." Hermione didn't say any more, she didn't think she needed to say anymore. That was all the justification she would ever need to take action.

The hat was not impressed with her reasoning. "Mister Potter has locked memories. I can't sort him with partial information, I was unlocking those memories..."

"You were hurting him, doesn't that count for anything?"

"I'm the sorting hat, I sort - and sing. It's what I was made to do - and you stopped me..."

"Listen to me, you moth-eaten piece of tattered old cloth. It was only the fact that you were on my Harry's head that stopped me incinerating you. It may have escaped your notice but you're not on my Harry's head anymore."

Realising that this was no idle threat from the enraged girl, McGonagall raced over and lifted the hat from where Hermione had uncaringly tossed it. A still angry Hermione just had to have the last word. "Your singing's shit too..."

Hearing Hermione swear told Harry exactly how angry she was, he comfortingly squeezed her hand. Even though his voice was shaky, the entire great hall heard him clearly. "Hermione, I saw my mum..."

That wasn't just a conversation stopper, the occupants of the hall held their collective breath while anxiously awaiting to hear more. "It was just me and my mum. I was in my cot - then this really ugly bugger broke into my bedroom. Blood-red crazy eyes and no nose... How do you lose your nose? That's just bloody carelessness - that's what that is."

Harry may have been rambling somewhat but Hermione could feel the tremors running through his body as he spoke about this. "He told my mum to step aside - what an arsehole! I was only fifteen months old, did he really think she was gonna stand there and let him murder me. The sick bastard knew she would never do that, he just wanted to hear her plead for her life before he ended it. She didn't though, she pleaded for mine. She begged him to kill her instead of me. She was willing to die for me, Hermione, and she did."

The two first year students currently on the floor both had tears running down their cheeks now. They were by no means the only ones. "He was actually smiling as he turned his attention and wand onto me. I saw him smile as he cast the killing curse at a toddler. He wasn't smiling when his spell was returned with interest. He screamed the place down as his body disintegrated into nothing... I hope it hurt, Hermione, I hope it fucking hurt..."