A/N: This story was born when me and a friend got bored while discussing random ideas for stories while wearing Harry Potter shirts. This will be a collection of stories about poor and/or humorous decisions made by the Sorting Hat. And so now I present:

Adventures Of The Sorting Hat:

Part I: Peter Pettigrew

"Pettigrew, Peter!" A little rat faced boy approached the stool, his watery eyes wide with obvious fear. He shuffled in small scurrying steps, as if trying to get there quickly and stay as far away from the stool as possible. A rather impatient professor cleared his throat loudly as if phlegm was the only thing keeping him from cursing the boy into a singing quartet of bullfrogs. Maybe that would seize his unsuccessfully stifled sobs. "Pettigrew eh-hmmmm Peter!" the professor tried a little louder.

Peter's face flushed an interesting shade of red as he hustled the rest of the way and nervously climbed the stool. Seeing the Sorting Hat so close raised his anxiety and started him to chewing his nails. Squeezing his eyes tight against the rising need for a bathroom, Peter felt the Hat lowered onto his head and let out a small squeaking noise.

Did that boy just squeal?, the Sorting Hat thought to itself. Oh my goblins, he did! The Hat grinned, sifting through the thoughts of the fidgeting child. The Hat stirred and shuffled, causing the quiet sobs to grow into a big hiccupping mess. Geez, the kid's crying. I think he's gonna wet himself! So much for bravery.

Well then, Gryffindor's out. What about Slytherin? The Hat tuned in carefully to the mumbling words stringing through the sniveling boy's head. "Okay okay, just calm down Petey," This boy's whacked out! Talking to himself…out loud I mean! "The kids in green are NOT going to eat me! They just look hungry, that's all!" The Sorting Hat hummed. Okay, too scared of Slytherin to be a Slytherin.

Two down, two to go, the Hat continued to hum none other than the Jeopardy song. How fitting. What is Ravenclaw?, the Hat joked. Okay, here we go…the Hat stopped. The kid was dumber than dirt, literally. There's memories of him reading the instructions on a bag of potting soil. Who's that dumb? I thought those were on the bag as a joke! Most definitely not Ravenclaw! Blue's not your color anyway, kid.

Hufflepuff it is then! If you can't fit in there, you are probably destined for cardboard boxes and tin foil hats anyway, the Hat mused. Being placed in Hufflepuff was like receiving a gag gift. It's humiliating and not necessarily welcomed, but you have no choice but to smile and be grateful. Hardworking and loyal? You find those in every other house with the added bonus of, well, talent. The Sorting Hat was just about to announce a new Hufflepuff when, there it was. The kid was a betraying brown-noser! Ever since a young age this boys been selling out for the safety of his own miserable skin. He'd rather raise his lips to kiss ass than his fists to fight for his self! You have got to be shittin' me. Not Hufflepuff?! What am I supposed to do, send him back? I haven't hated this job so much since- the Sorting Hat froze and a slow grin spread on his frayed brim. Heheheh, this is gonna be good!

Years ago, a newly sorted Gryffindor was so ecstatic about his sorting that he celebrated in end-of-the-year-feast style. And threw the Sorting Hat into the air. He still had the patch from that repair. Usually a neutral point between houses, the Sorting Hat still held a fierce grudge. There's not much else to do while stuck on a shelf all year. It only takes so long to think of a song that has had the same basic elements for hundreds of years. Thinking back at that enthusiastic little Gryffindor and the sloppy patchwork resulting, he looked down on the whiny little bastard that now wore him on his sweating brow and-

"GRYFFINDOR!!"

A/N: If you can't tell, I'm not a Pettigrew fan. Liked him better as a rat…reviews are always welcome but not demanded. If you have any suggestions on who else should be in the Sorting Hat collection, I'd like to hear them. And if your idea is used, you'll get your credit of coarse! Thanks for reading!

-Maybe