What the Sorting Hat Told Hermione Granger
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Hermione Granger-centric
Summary: The Sorting Hat had its eyes not fixed only on Harry Potter--but on Hermione Granger, as well.
Written for: iu_fanfiction WC 31 || prompt: Courage
What the Sorting Hat Told Hermione Granger
"Hermione Granger."
Whispers died low as a girl of eleven years old reached the high podium and sat on the chair, her feet not reaching the floor. Professor McGonagall placed the rusty old hat atop her bushy head and slowly, it stirred to life.
"Ahh..." the hat chuckled. "I have been waiting for you, Hermione Granger."
'Me?' Hermione thought in surprise. 'Shouldn't that be Harry Potter?'
"Why of course," the hat chuckled once more, its voice low and husky--full of enigmatic wisdom and locked-up knowledge. "But you are another interesting fellow..."
Hermione shifted in her seat, her small hands placed atop her lap. She was just expecting the hat to shout Ravenclaw and get done with it. After all, she had read from Hogwarts: A History that the smartest people went to that specific house--
"Ravenclaw?" the hat snorted. "No, Hermione Granger...not in Ravenclaw for you..."
She scowled. That was an insult to her intelligence.
"I know of your capacity, Hermione Granger," the hat began. "I know of the extensive knowledge you possess within you. Yes, yes, you are suited for Ravenclaw...but not quite."
'How so?' Hermione could feel the gears working on her head. After all, the answer she expected from the hat wasn't what she got.
And Hermione Granger always wants to know the right answers.
"Your knowledge comes from books, for now," it said. "But the greater knowledge you shall attain shall come from experience. You are smart, yes, you are...but smart in terms not only of books, Hermione Granger, but of other things..."
'What other thi--'
"Hufflepuff is a wise choice..." the hat chuckled as Hermione gaped at the waiting crowd in accordance to what he said. "You are suited the--"
'Why?' Hermione blushed as Ron Weasley pointed her gaping face to Harry Potter and chuckled.
"Loyalty, honesty, fair play and hard work," the hat uttered in reverence, it's amused tone turning serious and contemplative. "You possess all these traits, Hermione Granger."
Hermione took a deep breath and processed what the hat had said. She wasn't even sure that she was loyal and honest as what the hat pointed her out to be. But she knew that she always played fair and that hard work had given her the brain that she had now...
'You have a po--'
"But you are also cunning," the hat chuckled. "You are fascinated with the Dark Arts and have set high ambitions for yourself--"
'I am not a bad guy.'
"--but you are better to be in GRYFFINDOR!"
Applause came from the Gryffindor table and Hermione just sat there in shock, not even knowing why the hat placed her in Gryffindor house without justifying its decision.
'Wait!' Hermione hastily thought as McGonagall went up the stage. 'Why Gryffindor?'
"Ahhh," the hat chuckled for the last time. "There are people in Gryffindor who might need you, Hermione Granger. People who needs your intelligence, loyalty, cunning and most of all courage. There are people whom you will help greatly, people whom you will mold their futures and be the reason why they had such a wonderful life."
Hermione merely blinked in surprise, the Sorting Hat's last words ringing in her ears as McGonagall took it off her head and ushered her towards the Gryffindor table.
"You are destined for great things, Hermione Granger. Just like Harry Potter."
-o-
Eighteen year-old Hermione Granger entered the untouched Headmaster's office, the basilisk fang held in her bloodied hand. The war was over, Voldemort is dead. Cheers echoed throughout the castle walls but Hermione paid less heed to them.
Right now, she needed answers.
"Accio hat," the Sorting Hat fell lightly into her hand and she sat down on the carpeted floor, her wand now tucked inside her dirtied robes.
Without second thought, she placed the hat atop her head again.
"You are the first student I have talked to twice, Hermione Granger," the hat chuckled in amusement.
"Tell me," Hermione whispered out loud. "How did you know? Seven years ago."
"I never did," the hat said in an amused tone, chuckling upon feeling her stiffen beneath him. "Gryffindor was just in your heart, my dear."
"B-But," Hermione couldn't understand. Gryffindor wasn't the choice she had in mind! "I-I've wanted to be sorted into Ravenclaw--"
"You're heart told me otherwise," it began. "Your heart yearned from friendship and courage to form a bond even tighter than what you had with your books. This desire overruled everything--your resolve to be in Ravenclaw, your Hufflepuff and Slytherin-like traits and even your hunger for something new about Hogwarts."
Hermione waited in silence. She knew what was coming next.
"Because the moment you met Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter on the train, you knew that you were meant to be sorted with them."
And she knew. She knew for seven years that she desired to be sorted with those two young boys who played with spells to turn rats yellow and smothered their mouths with Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans. She knew, in her heart, that she was meant to help them. She was meant to be a part of them. She was meant to be the Hermione Granger of the Golden Trio, the brains behind them...the key for survival.
"You never needed to ask me, me dearest," the hat said with a fading tone as she pulled it out of her head.
Yes. She never needed to.
end.
Pairing: Hermione Granger-centric
Summary: The Sorting Hat had its eyes not fixed only on Harry Potter--but on Hermione Granger, as well.
Written for: iu_fanfiction WC 31 || prompt: Courage
What the Sorting Hat Told Hermione Granger
"Hermione Granger."
Whispers died low as a girl of eleven years old reached the high podium and sat on the chair, her feet not reaching the floor. Professor McGonagall placed the rusty old hat atop her bushy head and slowly, it stirred to life.
"Ahh..." the hat chuckled. "I have been waiting for you, Hermione Granger."
'Me?' Hermione thought in surprise. 'Shouldn't that be Harry Potter?'
"Why of course," the hat chuckled once more, its voice low and husky--full of enigmatic wisdom and locked-up knowledge. "But you are another interesting fellow..."
Hermione shifted in her seat, her small hands placed atop her lap. She was just expecting the hat to shout Ravenclaw and get done with it. After all, she had read from Hogwarts: A History that the smartest people went to that specific house--
"Ravenclaw?" the hat snorted. "No, Hermione Granger...not in Ravenclaw for you..."
She scowled. That was an insult to her intelligence.
"I know of your capacity, Hermione Granger," the hat began. "I know of the extensive knowledge you possess within you. Yes, yes, you are suited for Ravenclaw...but not quite."
'How so?' Hermione could feel the gears working on her head. After all, the answer she expected from the hat wasn't what she got.
And Hermione Granger always wants to know the right answers.
"Your knowledge comes from books, for now," it said. "But the greater knowledge you shall attain shall come from experience. You are smart, yes, you are...but smart in terms not only of books, Hermione Granger, but of other things..."
'What other thi--'
"Hufflepuff is a wise choice..." the hat chuckled as Hermione gaped at the waiting crowd in accordance to what he said. "You are suited the--"
'Why?' Hermione blushed as Ron Weasley pointed her gaping face to Harry Potter and chuckled.
"Loyalty, honesty, fair play and hard work," the hat uttered in reverence, it's amused tone turning serious and contemplative. "You possess all these traits, Hermione Granger."
Hermione took a deep breath and processed what the hat had said. She wasn't even sure that she was loyal and honest as what the hat pointed her out to be. But she knew that she always played fair and that hard work had given her the brain that she had now...
'You have a po--'
"But you are also cunning," the hat chuckled. "You are fascinated with the Dark Arts and have set high ambitions for yourself--"
'I am not a bad guy.'
"--but you are better to be in GRYFFINDOR!"
Applause came from the Gryffindor table and Hermione just sat there in shock, not even knowing why the hat placed her in Gryffindor house without justifying its decision.
'Wait!' Hermione hastily thought as McGonagall went up the stage. 'Why Gryffindor?'
"Ahhh," the hat chuckled for the last time. "There are people in Gryffindor who might need you, Hermione Granger. People who needs your intelligence, loyalty, cunning and most of all courage. There are people whom you will help greatly, people whom you will mold their futures and be the reason why they had such a wonderful life."
Hermione merely blinked in surprise, the Sorting Hat's last words ringing in her ears as McGonagall took it off her head and ushered her towards the Gryffindor table.
"You are destined for great things, Hermione Granger. Just like Harry Potter."
-o-
Eighteen year-old Hermione Granger entered the untouched Headmaster's office, the basilisk fang held in her bloodied hand. The war was over, Voldemort is dead. Cheers echoed throughout the castle walls but Hermione paid less heed to them.
Right now, she needed answers.
"Accio hat," the Sorting Hat fell lightly into her hand and she sat down on the carpeted floor, her wand now tucked inside her dirtied robes.
Without second thought, she placed the hat atop her head again.
"You are the first student I have talked to twice, Hermione Granger," the hat chuckled in amusement.
"Tell me," Hermione whispered out loud. "How did you know? Seven years ago."
"I never did," the hat said in an amused tone, chuckling upon feeling her stiffen beneath him. "Gryffindor was just in your heart, my dear."
"B-But," Hermione couldn't understand. Gryffindor wasn't the choice she had in mind! "I-I've wanted to be sorted into Ravenclaw--"
"You're heart told me otherwise," it began. "Your heart yearned from friendship and courage to form a bond even tighter than what you had with your books. This desire overruled everything--your resolve to be in Ravenclaw, your Hufflepuff and Slytherin-like traits and even your hunger for something new about Hogwarts."
Hermione waited in silence. She knew what was coming next.
"Because the moment you met Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter on the train, you knew that you were meant to be sorted with them."
And she knew. She knew for seven years that she desired to be sorted with those two young boys who played with spells to turn rats yellow and smothered their mouths with Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans. She knew, in her heart, that she was meant to help them. She was meant to be a part of them. She was meant to be the Hermione Granger of the Golden Trio, the brains behind them...the key for survival.
"You never needed to ask me, me dearest," the hat said with a fading tone as she pulled it out of her head.
Yes. She never needed to.
end.