"Old friend, would you be willing to share your thoughts about that remarkable young man, Leonardo?"
Dumbledore's request carried his characteristic warmth, blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles as he addressed the ancient Sorting Hat resting on its designated shelf.
The Sorting Hat shifted its eye-socket-like depressions, regarding the long-bearded headmaster with what could only be described as irritation. Its fabric mouth twisted into a distinctly uncooperative expression.
"No."
The crisp, decisive refusal made Dumbledore's gentle smile freeze completely. After several long moments of awkward silence, the elderly wizard cleared his throat uncertainly.
"Ah... I simply hoped to understand what characteristics young Leonardo possessed that caused you such obvious difficulty during his sorting?"
Rather than providing the requested information, the Sorting Hat tilted its pointed tip at an accusatory angle. "Young man, how many years have you served as Hogwarts headmaster?"
Dumbledore blinked at the seemingly unrelated question but answered with patient good humour. His mind drifted through decades of memories, calculating automatically.
"I assumed the position in 1956, so this marks exactly thirty-five years."
"Hmm." The hat's response was maddeningly brief, followed by pointed silence that stretched uncomfortably through the candlelit office.
Dumbledore genuinely couldn't fathom why the ancient artefact seemed so unusually temperamental tonight. Could Leonardo's prolonged sorting ceremony really have affected its normally steady disposition so dramatically?
"In all those thirty-five years," the Sorting Hat suddenly erupted with righteous indignation, "haven't you cleaned me even ONCE?!"
The unexpected accusation left Dumbledore completely bewildered, his silver eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. "I... beg your pardon?"
Sensing the headmaster's confusion only seemed to fuel the hat's growing fury. Its fabric mouth began chattering with unprecedented animation:
"Oh, Merlin's beard! I can't even remember my last proper cleaning! You headmasters and professors only acknowledge my existence during annual sorting ceremonies, then toss me back onto this dusty shelf like discarded laundry!"
"Every single year, I'm forced to read young wizards' thoughts of disgust and revulsion toward my appearance! I'm clearly the most intelligent hat in the entire world... how can I endure such disrespectful treatment?!"
The more Dumbledore absorbed these passionate complaints, the more perplexed he became. Throughout his lengthy tenure, the Sorting Hat had always maintained dignified silence between ceremonies, occasionally humming preview snippets of songs planned for future events.
What had changed so dramatically this year? The only unusual occurrence had been Leonardo's record-breaking sorting duration...
Dumbledore stroked his magnificent beard thoughtfully, studying the agitated hat with growing suspicion. Could the ancient artefact actually be malfunctioning?
"Young man, stop staring at me like I'm some curiosity!" The hat snapped with wounded pride. "Want to discuss Leonardo's sorting? Clean me thoroughly first! Properly! With actual effort!"
Ten minutes later, Dumbledore found himself seated at his ornate desk, wielding a small cleaning brush with careful precision as he tended to every fold and crease of the legendary hat. The surreal situation would have been comical if not for the hat's continuous commentary.
"Yes, exactly like that! Apply more pressure to that stubborn spot!"
"Dip the brush in warm water first! That's not how you treat century-old stains!"
"Over one hundred years old and you still can't properly clean a hat? Honestly!"
The Sorting Hat luxuriated in receiving personal attention from the wizarding world's most celebrated figure while simultaneously critiquing his technique with shameless audacity.
Remarkably, Dumbledore displayed no irritation whatsoever. Instead, he smiled with genuine amusement, finding the entire experience oddly therapeutic. The hat had specifically demanded hand-cleaning rather than magical shortcuts... and truthfully, the methodical physical activity provided welcome respite from weightier concerns.
"There now, old friend," Dumbledore said eventually, setting aside his brush with satisfaction. "Might you be willing to discuss Leonardo's sorting now?"
The Sorting Hat practically purred with contentment, its fabric relaxing into comfortable folds. "Certainly! He's exceptionally well-suited for Ravenclaw, naturally."
"Yes, I gathered that much. Anything else?"
"He would have thrived equally well in Slytherin."
This revelation prompted Dumbledore's smile to falter slightly. Another brilliant student harbouring hidden ambitions? Another Tom Riddle in the making?
"Oh, and Hufflepuff would have suited him perfectly as well."
Dumbledore's cleaning cloth paused mid-motion. "Are you... quite certain?"
The Sorting Hat's tip lifted with obvious pride. "Of course! How could I possibly be mistaken? Furthermore, placing him in Gryffindor would have worked beautifully too."
The brush slipped from Dumbledore's suddenly nerveless fingers. He was beginning to seriously suspect this thousand-year-old artefact had finally succumbed to age-related deterioration.
"Why did you stop cleaning?" the hat demanded petulantly.
"Well," Dumbledore admitted with a bemused chuckle, "this represents my first encounter with a young wizard possessing characteristics perfectly suited to all four houses simultaneously."
He resumed his careful brushing motions, curiosity overriding his concerns. "So why Ravenclaw ultimately?"
The Sorting Hat's brim shifted in what might have been a shrug. "Because he felt... no, correction... because I sensed that pursuing wisdom and thirsting for knowledge represented Leonardo's fundamental essence."
"It's simply that in our magical world, knowledge invariably equals power. During his quest for understanding, the steadiness, determination, courage, and loyalty he displayed were impossible to ignore."
Dumbledore nodded with visible relief, applying slightly more pressure to a particularly stubborn stain while feeling considerably lighter. "Thank you. It sounds as though Leonardo will prove an exemplary student."
"Incidentally, did you glimpse any specific areas where his talents might excel?"
Before the Sorting Hat could respond, a sharp voice erupted from one of the portrait frames lining the office walls:
"Listening to you two prattle on endlessly... so insufferably noisy I can't achieve proper rest!"
"Since he wasn't sorted into our noble Slytherin house, this Leonardo you're discussing probably possesses thoroughly mediocre abilities."
The voice carried unmistakable arrogance and disdain, like fingernails scraping across slate. Dumbledore suppressed a weary sigh, recognising the speaker without needing to look up. He truly dreaded dealing with this particular former headmaster and his toxic pure-blood supremacist rhetoric.
Fortunately, another portrait immediately rose to the challenge. A dignified gentleman with greying temples and piercing eyes came alive within his gilded frame, his voice booming with righteous indignation:
"Phineas, I'd dearly love to permanently seal that poisonous mouth of yours! 'Your' Slytherin? Have you no shame whatsoever?"
"Hmph," Phineas Black sneered with practised disdain, meticulously grooming his pointed beard. "Morgan, I can't waste energy conversing with such a reckless lion."
"During my tenure as headmaster, I found those Ravenclaw students utterly insufferable... always pursuing their precious 'knowledge', always convinced of their intellectual superiority."
"Phineas," interrupted a melodious female voice, accompanied by the rustle of turning pages. "Would you care to test the true weight of knowledge once again?"
An elegant lady's portrait had stirred to life, her silver-framed spectacles catching the candlelight as she regarded Phineas with deceptive tranquillity. However, she brandished a massive leather-bound tome... the sort of weapon that could render someone unconscious with a single well-aimed blow to the skull.
Dumbledore listened to the escalating argument between former headmasters with growing exasperation, rubbing his temples as familiar tensions erupted throughout his office.
Phineas Nigellus Black held the dubious honour of being Hogwarts' most universally despised headmaster in the school's thousand-year history.
"Silence, you ridiculous Black family remnant," the Sorting Hat suddenly interjected with cutting precision. "Compared to Leonardo's extraordinary talents, your abilities resemble a troll's brain... one would require a magnifying glass to locate them."
The hat's devastating mockery instantly silenced every portrait in the room. Then, after a heartbeat of stunned quiet, the office erupted in delighted laughter.
"A troll's brain! Absolutely brilliant!" wheezed one former Gryffindor headmaster. "Since when did the Sorting Hat develop such wicked wit? I never noticed during my tenure!"
"Phineas, do try to make some sound if you actually heard that magnificent insult!"
Even several Slytherin headmaster portraits joined the mirth. Honestly, most found Phineas utterly insufferable... a so-called leader who'd demonstrated zero concern for student education and seemingly cared about nothing beyond advancing his own prejudices.
Dumbledore managed to suppress outright laughter, though his magnificent white beard conveniently concealed his upturned mouth corners and twinkling eyes.
The Sorting Hat noticed the headmaster's brush had stopped moving again and opened its fabric mouth wide with renewed indignation:
"What are you grinning about? Leonardo's talent far exceeds yours as well!"