#But I sometimes wonder that even if Quirrel had known the truth or remembered it at all would he have still repeated his actions

[probablyanalienindisguise]

[pellucidity-is-me]

A Chat with the Hat

Summary: The war has shed an unsavory light on seemingly innocent traditions, and now Hermione has questions—particularly about the merits of a system that pushes children into boxes. She borrows the Sorting Hat from the school (not to worry; she got permission) and sits down to discuss human nature, psychology, and individual values. 

Notes: From a line in my longer fic (link in my blog description if you want to read it) that I wanted to expand upon. I never saw the Sorting system as something that measured personality traits: here’s how it works in my little world.

Wordcount: 4236

Hermione Granger is thirty years old.

She's solved a lot of mysteries in her thirty years. Now that the story of Harry Potter is more popular than ham on Christmas, she's known throughout the wizarding world as "the brains". It's a hard expectation to live up to. Sometimes she makes a silly mistake (a wrong turn while driving, mixed-up wizarding and Muggle lingo, burnt dinner) and an acquaintance will turn to her and say, "Weren't you supposed to be the clever one?" People have such high expectations of Hermione that she can never impress anyone—only let them down.

But that's only the public. To the people that Hermione loves most—her husband, her children, her closest friends—Hermione is exactly who she wants to be. It's hard to be in the spotlight all the time, but at least she doesn't have it as bad as Harry does. Harry is a scrawny, awkward, twenty-nine-year-old man who can never make his hair lie flat, doesn't care about his appearance much, and was certainly not built for the public eye. But that's the way it's always been for Harry, and even Hermione and Ron have ended up getting used to it after a couple of years. Ron seems rather thrilled by the whole thing, actually.

Now that everything has settled down, though, Hermione misses the days of action and adventure. The other children at Hogwarts always shoved her into the role of a bookish prude (and she was, sometimes), but the truth is, Hermione loves the thrill of a chase—she always has. Mystery is her passion. The moment that Hermione discovered Nicholas Flamel—the Basilisk—that Lupin was a werewolf—oh, the domestic life can never replicate that glowing pride and beating heart.

So now, at thirty years old, Hermione Granger sets out on a brand-new adventure. She has a new mystery now, and it's one that she's wondered about for years on end.

She's gained permission from Minerva to borrow the Sorting Hat, and now she is sitting in her bedroom, holding the Hat in her hands. It's a good day for some first-rate interrogation: Ron has taken the kids to Harry's for a playdate, so Hermione has a couple of hours, at least, to herself.

And she can't wait.

She slips the Hat onto her head—even though she is much older, it still covers her eyes slightly. She squirms with joy, remembering that wonderful first day at Hogwarts, surrounded by magic that she hadn't even known existed and potential friends and so much knowledge and adventure...

"Well, well," says the Hat, tearing Hermione away from her blissful nostalgia. "Hermione Granger."

"Afternoon," says Hermione evenly. She can speak aloud, seeing as no one is home. "I had a few—"

"—questions, yes. I gathered that. I see everything in your head." The Hat chuckles. "It's rare when adults want to put me on, you know. They have so many more secrets, and they can't stand the fact that I could just... tell anyone."

Hermione is panicked for half a second, but she doesn't think that she has any secrets.

"No, you're right," says the Hat. "No secrets here. Only an intense curiosity."

"Why didn't you put me in Ravenclaw?" Hermione blurts. "Now I know that I wouldn't have done well in Ravenclaw, of course. I'd have never met Ron and Harry, and it wouldn't have encouraged any aspect of me but my intellectual brilliance. I recognize, now, that intelligence isn't the most important thing... but when I was a first-year Muggle-born girl, desperate to prove myself, I thought for certain that there was nothing more important than good marks. I asked for Gryffindor, yes, but I wasn't brave back then. You can't tell the future, can you? That would be highly complex magic. Do you take alternate realities into account? Exactly how much magical programming was dedicated to your creation? How long did it take the founders to create you?" Hermione thinks of Salazar Slytherin and has a terrible thought. "Is there Dark magic involved?"

The Sorting Hat makes an odd Hat-like noise that's akin to a laugh. "So many questions," it says. "No Dark magic: Godric was highly opposed to it. No alternate realities. No divination. Extensive magical programming, of course. And Hermione Granger: you were never a Ravenclaw."

"But—"

"You were relatively clever, like a Ravenclaw. You were ambitious, like a Slytherin. You were kind and loyal, like a Hufflepuff. And you were brave—no matter what you may have thought—like a Gryffindor."

"Then how did you decide?"

"It is a common misconception that my job is to pick out the most dominant trait in a person's character and Sort them based on that trait."

"...Isn't it?"

"No. I Sort people based on what they want to be, not what they are."

"Ah..." says Hermione. That makes sense, actually. She's never seen some of her fellow Gryffindors as particularly brave, and Luna Lovegood was always rather—no, she isn't going to finish that thought. Luna is Hermione's friend, even though Hermione thinks that Nargles are utter nonsense. "I didn't think that... I mean, you told us yourself that your original intention was to solve a dispute amongst the Founders."

"True, true. But the dispute was specifically because of values, not of personality traits. You can be whatever you want to be; it only takes dedication. Not only that, but my purpose and means were modified throughout the years as the Founders solidified their visions of Hogwarts. It was eventually decided that values were a more efficient way of Sorting than talents. What a person wants to be is far more indicative of a person's nature than I.Q., kind deeds, or any other outside factor is. The Founders, above all, wanted those who shared values with themselves. Besides, there are so many types of intelligence, ambition, courage, and kindness that there was no solid way for me to measure those talents besides measuring values. There were a few failed experiments."

Hermione makes a small noise of surprise, and the Hat answers before Hermione can even ask. "I accidentally caught fire once. Apparently Hat magic is prone to fire when done incorrectly. And the Giant Squid is in the Black Lake on my account."

Hermione almost wants to request an elaboration, but she really doesn't want to know. She turns the conversation back to herself. "I didn't want to be brave, though. That was probably the last thought in my mind. I wanted to be intelligent. I only wanted Gryffindor because... er, red was my favorite color..." Hermione's cheeks promptly turn her favorite color. She's never told anyone that before.

The Hat merely laughs. "Yes, I know. You were a confused first-year Muggle-born girl. You didn't know what you wanted. I do not look into the future, but I can look very deeply into the subconscious. Do you remember what you said to Harry Potter directly before he went to fight Quirrell and Voldemort?"

"Er... no."

"You told him that there were more important things than books and cleverness. You said that friendship and bravery were much more crucial to greatness. And you heard my song before you were Sorted—you knew that Gryffindor was the House of Courage and that still didn't deter you. You always believed in courage; you just let yourself be fit into a box by people who told you that you were bright. Intelligence is not a personality trait: it is a genetic and learned ability—much like physical strength is not a personality trait. You are clever, but it is not, in your opinion, the most important part of who you are. It never was."

It's kind of odd, Hermione thinks, that a hat is telling her everything that she never knew about herself. She tried for so long to analyze her subconscious in her later Hogwarts years—tried to figure out what the Hat could have possibly picked up—and, because Hermione chose her House based on her favorite color (and the Hat, despite her Ravenclaw intelligence, complied), she's believed for a long time that the Sorting ceremony is superficial to the point of being useless. Now she's not so sure. "So people who go to Gryffindor are not necessarily brave?"

"No. Some of them are downright cowardly. It all hangs on what they want to be. What they value—that is essential. You valued knowledge, but you did so for the application of it and not for knowledge's sake. You didn't get pleasure in learning, Miss Granger. You got pleasure in applying knowledge—especially when you were on one of those Gryffindor adventures of yours. You got pleasure in the journey, not the knowledge. And you got pleasure in succeeding. You love knowledge, yes, but it was never the most important thing to you.

"That's why there are clever people who compete for top of the form in every House. People can value knowledge for a wide variety of reasons, and the same is true for kindness, success, and bravery. Your House does not determine what you are: only your reasoning behind it. Does that make sense?"

Hermione thinks about that. "Then why do I see so many Gryffindors who are brave and so many Ravenclaws who are clever? If it's about what we want, then shouldn't you put us in the opposite House of what we already are?"

The Hat chuckles again. "Sound reasoning. But no. People have an uncanny habit of wanting things that they already have."

That sounds very profound to Hermione. She almost wants to write it down, but the conversation is far too much fun. She still has so many questions.

"Go on," says the Hat, "you may take notes if you wish. I promise I'm not going anywhere. No legs, unfortunately."

Hermione laughs a bit breathlessly and removes a pad of paper and a pen from the nightstand. "Thank you," she says, pen poised over the paper. It's sort of hard to see what she's writing, what with the floppy hat covering her eyes, but she'll try her best. "Tell me about Albus Dumbledore, then. I've read Rita Skeeter's book. Looking back, I've noticed more and more things that Albus Dumbledore did that were... very Slytherin. Why was he in Gryffindor?"

"I don't usually disclose information about the other people that I've Sorted," says the Hat. Hermione is instantly embarrassed—she didn't mean to invade anyone's privacy. "Seeing as Dumbledore is dead, though," continues the Hat, "I should think that it is all right. Besides, I know everything in your head. You would never use any of the information that I give you against another."

Hermione nods and gets ready to take notes. Her heart is beating quickly, just like it used to when she was hunting Horcruxes—that's the Gryffindor, she supposes. She's found her adventure.

"Albus Dumbledore had traits of all four Houses, much like you," says the Sorting Hat thoughtfully. "He was intelligent, to be certain. Genius-level I.Q."

"How do you know his I.Q.?" interrupts Hermione.

"Ah," says the Sorting Hat dismissively, "Rowena Ravenclaw thought that it might be a good way to measure intelligence, so she gave me that ability. It was scrapped early on, of course. There are simply too many kinds of intelligence. Anyway. Dumbledore valued loyalty and kindness. He valued bravery. But the reason I put him in Gryffindor was because of his stubborn insistence on doing what he believed was right, even when it did not benefit him."

"Like the Deathly Hallows," breathes Hermione. "Harry told me about that, of course. Dumbledore owned all three Hallows separately... but never at the same time. He could have possessed them all simultaneously if he'd wanted to...become the Master of Death... but he never did. He returned James Potter's Invisibility Cloak... gave the Stone to Harry..."

"Dumbledore could have become Minister for Magic if he'd wanted to. He might have ruled wizard-kind. He could have been very adept at Dark magic. He, all things considered, could have been so much more than he was. But Dumbledore also took a step back whenever he felt he was becoming too powerful. He wanted to help, and he had a strong sense of right and wrong... which could lead him to manipulate, yes. And he had his flaws—everyone does. But he never wanted to rule the world."

"But what about Grindelwald and the Greater Good?"

"The Greater Good, Miss Granger. Think about the phrase. Dumbledore, above all, thought that what he was doing was noble. Chivalrous. He did not seek to rule for the sake of ruling. He sought to rule for the sake of others—he believed that, with wizards in charge, Muggles and magical folk alike would have better lives. It was not ambition: he was being noble. He was following his morals. And that, as I knew in his first year at Hogwarts, was what he valued above all else—not knowledge or ambition or even kindness."

"I thought that he was very kind."

"Again: it is not about what he was, it was about what he valued. He may have been kind, but it was far more important to him that he was noble. Given the choice, he would have been condescending and rude if it meant that he could make the world a better, more moral place in his own eyes. And so would you, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter."

Hermione rather agrees. "I thought bravery was the main trait of Gryffindors, though."

"All of the Houses have two separate and distinct traits, don't they? Gryffindors are brave and noble. Hufflepuffs are kind and loyal. Slytherins are ambitious and cunning. And Ravenclaws are clever and wise."

"Aren't they the...?"

"No. Cleverness is book intelligence. Wisdom is life intelligence."

"But all of them are..."

"The two traits in each House are related, yes, but they are not the same."

"Ah. Why?"

"Well, if we took every single distinct value that students could possibly possess, we'd have a separate House for every student. But the all-encompassing, dual-value system leads to some pretty unfortunate circumstances, as you can imagine. People end up storing so much of their identity in their House that they adopt the other trait, even if they never wanted it to begin with. That was not the case for Albus Dumbledore; he was always very brave and valued courage as a trait. But it was the case for some others. One must be cunning to be successful, yes, but not always. Some Ravenclaws are wise and not at all clever. Some Hufflepuffs are kind and not at all loyal. But the two traits go hand-in-hand so often that it is not a widespread problem—at least, I don't believe it is, but I am only a hat."

"Peter Pettigrew," says Hermione. "Remus and Sirius mentioned that he was a coward—Minerva implied it, too, when Harry and Ron and I were listening in on a conversation in Hogsmeade... but he was in Gryffindor."

"Yes. He may not have been as inherently courageous as any of his friends, but he valued bravery. He so desperately wanted to be brave. And he almost got there, too—he immediately befriended the most popular and wealthy people in the school and remained friends with them, even though he was not quite on their level. As a nervous eleven-year-old child, that takes bravery. But he was never brave in the more common sense of the word. And he was certainly never noble nor chivalrous. It took me a long time to decide about him. There were many, many factors to consider."

"He was a Hatstall," Hermione remembers. "You took over five minutes Sorting him."

"No need to ruminate on my shortcomings," chuckles the Hat. "There's a lot to sift through in the minds of some. I am very magically advanced, but the human mind is not simply a book to be read."

"Wasn't Minerva a Hatstall, too? You took more than five minutes Sorting her, didn't you? But she seems like the most typical Gryffindor I've ever met, though she is inordinately intelligent."

"That, Miss Granger, is another example of a person's House shaping character. I put Minerva McGonagall in Gryffindor because, somewhere deep down, she wanted to be courageous more than she wanted to be clever. And that desire became clear once she was around like-minded people. Perhaps she would have been a very different person had she been in Ravenclaw—I do not know; I am only a hat. But I do believe that Gryffindor encouraged that aspect of her."

"I always thought that variety was good, though. I never thought that it would be a good thing to be surrounded by like-minded people."

"You are correct. The system is not flawless."

It surprises Hermione a bit to hear the Hat admit that its life's work is not perfect. "It's not?" she says.

"No, it is not. We've discussed this already. People set too much store in their Houses. The Blacks have prided themselves on being Slytherins for generations, even though it is such an inconsequential thing in the long run. You know from personal experience that a wide range of personalities exist under a shared value. The House system was intended to draw people together who had similar values, but it became a matter of discrimination based on personality. I can see from your memories that Sirius Black was given much grief over his Sorting."

"Yes, he was."

"And he gave Severus Snape much grief for the same reason."

"...Yes."

"And Draco Malfoy thought that all Gryffindors were arrogant and annoying, even though there were many Gryffindors with whom he may have gotten along. Even Minerva McGonagall, under pressure of battle, stereotyped the Slytherins because of one comment, yes?"

Hermione remembers that (well, of course she does; the Hat wouldn't have seen it otherwise). "Yes."

"When a group of people have a shared value, they can work together beautifully and achieve that value in their own lives and the lives of others. But Sorting of any kind is dangerous, especially Sorting that cannot be controlled. Oh, I've had students beg to be in a particular House, even though it shouldn't matter in the long run. But it does matter, doesn't it? That's not the way it was intended, but that is the way that society has made it to be. People get put into boxes."

Hermione thinks of society's views towards the public version of Hermione Granger—she's "the brains"; nothing more, nothing less, and no one who does not know her intimately can see her differently. She can't even ask questions anymore without getting odd looks ("Shouldn't you already know that, Granger?"). She read a lot of books in her time at Hogwarts, sure, but she's not omniscient. "It's very unpleasant," she says softly.

"Yes, it is. You see someone in Ravenclaw robes and you think 'clever', even though many Ravenclaws are not clever and simply value intelligence. You see a Slytherin and think 'evil', even though Slytherins are not always so. You see a Gryffindor and think 'brave', even though some are like Peter Pettigrew. You see a Hufflepuff and think 'weak', though I assure you that some of the most dangerous Death Eaters were, in fact, Hufflepuffs."

"Really?" says Hermione, surprised in spite of herself.

"Oh, yes. Here's the other flaw in the system: 'kindness' and 'loyalty' do not mean the same thing to everybody. One can be loyal to the wrong person. 'Kindness', depending on your point of view, can be violence. The same applies for all the other Houses' traits. They're all very subjective. Just as you wrote off Luna Lovegood for having the 'wrong sort' of thirst for knowledge, eh?"

"But..."

"But if it weren't Sorting, then it would surely be something else. People join cliques and become defined by them all the time. Sorting has not started the trend of stereotype, and getting rid of it will not stop it."

"What are you?" asks Hermione, unable to contain herself any longer. "Are you sentient?"

"No," says the Hat, before pausing and amending its statement. "Well, perhaps, but I am not alive. I have no state of being. I do not have a soul. I am simply a very, very powerful sort of magic that was created by some of the most powerful wizards and witches in the world. I exist to read your thoughts and parrot them back to you in a way that makes sense. I exist to search in the depths of your subconscious for your values. That is all. You are, more or less, having a conversation with your own brain—alongside some added knowledge from others' brains that I have absorbed."

"But you can tell the future, yes? People's values can change."

"So they can." The Hat was silent for a moment. "Sorting was never meant to go beyond Hogwarts. It was not meant to be an eternal sole identity—it was not, in fact, meant to be a sole identity at all. It was intended to put students among those with similar values so that they could grow alongside encouraging, communicative peers. Once they had learned who they were and what they valued, students were meant to leave Hogwarts, shed their school identities, and mingle amongst those with different values. They were meant to change and grow. And they do—but many are still bound by their Houses."

"Do you think we should abolish the system, then?" Oh, Hermione would hate that. Even if the Sorting is flawed beyond repair, it's a Hogwarts staple. She doesn't think that she could bear getting rid of it. But if she has to... she will. She'll write to Minerva. She'll write to the Minister, even. "We could simply Sort as Muggle schools do. We could put students into Houses by chance. Alphabetically, perhaps."

"Oh, no. That would put me out of a job." The Hat chuckles. "Before I give you my opinion, you have to understand that I am only a Hat and I cannot have opinions. I'm simply repeating a mixture of other opinions. Notably Albus Dumbledore, who used to wear me sometimes when he worked—said it cleared his head..."

Hermione can't imagine ever having a "clear head" when wearing the Sorting Hat, but Dumbledore, she knows, was much more intelligent (and eccentric) than she will ever be.

"The system is extremely questionable in a time of war—especially a blood-purity war that puts so much emphasis on Houses. That said, it certainly has its merits in a time of peace. I stand by what I said before: if it weren't Sorting, then it would be something else. Houses foster wonderful senses of community. They help students make friends and find identities. And they really do put children around those with similar values yet wildly different personalities. The Prefect and House Head system is especially wonderful in accordance to Houses: students have mentors that value the same things as they do and can help them work towards goals that coincide with said values. It is, in theory, a wonderful idea, and it is, in practice, a decent one."

"Hrm," says Hermione, though she's not convinced.

"The problem, Miss Granger, is not with the Houses. The problem is with the PEOPLE. The problem is with pigeonholes and stereotypes. We need to fix the people, not the Houses. That starts with recognizing Houses for what they are: a value system, not a personality system. And one's values never make one a bad person. It is how one carries out those values that matters. Talents are inconsequential in the grand scheme of things."

Hermione nods, thanks the Hat, bids farewell for what will probably be the final time, and then puts it down.

She's solved another mystery.

Hermione Granger is not who she is because of her intellect, which she has received from her parents and surroundings. She is not defined by the adventures of her youth. She is not even defined by the red and gold robes that she wore all those years ago.

Her values have led her to who she is, yes: the noble nature that led her to create S.P.E.W. as a child, the bravery that drove her to break rules in pursuit of answers, and the relentless thirst to do what is right. But that has nothing to do with her talents.

Gryffindor did not give Hermione her talents and personality, it only taught her how to use them to coincide with her values.

And right now, the noble and brave Hermione Granger is going to draft a letter to Minerva. If she hurries, then perhaps she can get permission to give a speech at the Sorting Ceremony. If she does it right (which she will; after all, she's Hermione Granger), then maybe... just maybe... she can teach the children what the Sorting actually means before it becomes a problem.

Hermione remembers that the Hat had tried to do the same thing in her fifth year, but she's certain that she can be more successful. After all, she's Hermione Granger.

And Hermione is many things: she is brave, she is noble, she is intelligent, she is a bit of a know-it-all, she is reckless, she is daring, and she is also completely and utterly sick of pigeonholes.