"For one thousand years that I have been

Darkness I have seen to bloom; But light will grow and

                              Shine so bright when the young take flight.

A magic hat Am I, I can see through a scam, through you may think I'm a sham.

I will find what house is right for you the light of tomorrow to take flight.

Be it in Gryffindor, where the lion hearted dwell.  Their daring and chivalry always set them apart.

Or you may dwell in Ravenclaw were the clever will find their meddle.

Perhaps you be a Hufflepuff, straight and true.  Unafraid of toil that is you.

But not last of all those cunning folks you may join if you dwell in Slytherin; they who always archive their ends.

Now take a seat for I don't bite, No not one bit, but a look I shall peek to your mind to seek you a seat, after all I am the Hogwart's sorting hat."

            The battered old hat finished his song and delighted in the applause that broke out in the dinning hall.  Professor McGonagall stood next the frayed hat along scroll in her hand of all the first year students that would be sorted on this night.  Students eagerly awaited the ceremonies to start to see which students would join their houses and of course for the great feast to begin.  

            The enchanted sky above them twinkled as the first years huddled together in front of the professor's tables, uncertainty splayed across their young faces.

            After the applause died down Professor McGonagall leveled a stern gaze over the tops of her glasses effectively gaining the attention to the children before her.  " When I call your name, you will come forward, I shall place the hat on your head and you shall be sorted into your houses." Her voice was brisk and effective.        

            Dawn stood transfixed with the rest of the first years, glad for the reprieve in talking. Watching the stern older woman calling names from the scroll carefully as to not miss her name.

            Apprehension began to grow in the pit of her stomach when she realized that it was the hat being placed on peoples heads that talked, the hat was telling people were to go.  What was she going to do? She could read lips very well, but how was she going to read the lips of a hat that was going to be atop her head?  Apprehension was starting to be replaced by a slow panic that was threatening to choke her, like thick bile.

            " Think Dawn, think." She began to murmur to herself. " What visual clues can I see?"  Focusing her gaze on the student who was about to jump from the tall stool.  The hat from what she could tell had shouted a word that she couldn't quit understands. 

            Watching the young boy jump down, she saw that the table he headed to were more enthusiastically cheering and beckoning to the newest member of their house. 

            " I can only hope they do the same for me."  She sighed.  Before she had left her so called 'home' she had decide that she wasn't going to tell anybody about her disability.  She didn't want pity and she didn't want to answer those questions that had all ways followed her.

            "Dawn Jewell," the stern witch, Professor McGonagall finally called her name.

            Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves she held her head high refusing to show her fear, and walked to were the Professor stood hat in hand.  Hopping up on the stool the hat descended on her.  The weirdest thing happened to her for the first time in five years she heard a voice other then her own.