A HariPo drabble
Note: The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. This pairing was discovered by me, so please gimme a little mention if you write them! Thanks! It is one of many of Mew and Mor's Weird Pairings, most of which you may find in the M&MWP forum. Check out and join the forum FUN! Read, review, and enjoy! And do forgive the weirdness…it's so strange, it's cute. :+
Hundreds of years, and this was the thanks that the Sorting Hat got? The hat couldn't believe this monstrosity…
After that big oaf helped Flitwick decorate the Great Hall for the first feast of the new school year, he'd left the Sorting Hat out. Things like this only proved the hat's point that he should be left in Dumbledore's office right up until he was needed.
But he hadn't been! Instead, the hat had been placed on the little stool while the half-giant oaf did a few more things here and there…and then the Sorting Hat had ended up in the bloody oaf's bloody pocket! The hat had not only been unceremoniously, accidentally shoved into a ginormous pocket (and thank Merlin he didn't have a nose, considering what he might've smelled), but he'd left school grounds! Oh, heavens!
The hat hated the journey in the oaf's pocket, but at least the half-giant emptied the pocket a bit when he arrived home. Oh, Merlin, there was no telling where the hat was now—was he near the school? Was he still in Scotland? Was he even on the same continent?
Alas, he had no way of finding such things out. The Sorting Hat unfurled and came to life only when the oaf left his hut, and the hat cursed. "Only the headmaster or deputy headmistress should be allowed to touch me at all…," he growled.
A whine sounded to his left, and the Sorting Hat growled. "What outrage is this?"
An abnormally large hound approached him and sniffed him. The dog batted at the hat's tassels, and the hat groaned. This was the last thing he needed—to befriend a beast that likely wouldn't see him as anything but a toy.
"Leave me alone…leave me alone…!" the hat warned, but it was too late. The dog—"Fang," read the animal's feeding dish near the door—bumped the table and the hat landed on Fang's head. Then the dog was out the door, circling the perimeter of the hut and going beyond its area.
The Sorting Hat said mean things to Fang, trying to come up with things that might offend a dog's feelings. But the hat gave up; it was doubtful that Fang understood a word that was coming from his cloth mouth. And anyway, the hat had been given a chance to enjoy the outdoors for once. Maybe this whole leaving-the-castle thing wasn't too bad after all…
But no! The hat couldn't think like that! If he was late to perform his duties, there'd be chaos at Hogwarts. Chaos, he was sure! "Dog, take me back!" the hat urged as the sun set dangerously below the skyline—who'd ever heard of the Sorting Hat being late to a Sorting?
Fang might've understood him that time—or it was dinner. Either way, Fang trotted back to his master's hut, where he ate and then curled up on his bed, the Sorting Hat askew on his furry head.
The Sorting Hat considered the day he'd had…and pursed his lips. This was all he'd been missing? They only ever took him out of storage once a year, to Sort students…and then he'd go back into storage until next time?
For once, the hat was wondering why he wasn't anything but a magical hat.
Fang's giant breaths moved the hat's tassels to and fro, and the Sorting Hat kind of liked that. It was much better than just sticking another snotty pureblood in Slytherin and yet another Weasley (Merlin, was there no end to their line?) in Gryffindor. Fang had given the hat legs today, and now the hat wished he could've had them before.
When the half-giant oaf returned and saw the Sorting Hat to take him back to the castle, the hat was a little sad. Maybe he could find his way back into the oaf's pocket and come see Fang again instead of facing another year of storage…?
I don't even know what to call this… But I like it. 0.0
Thanks for reading, and please review!