For years Toby's brothers had insisted that the Hogwarts sorting was a life or death account. They had finally admitted it was a hat when Toby took to practicing death monologs in preparation for what he felt was his iminate demise until his mother had begged them to have mercy on him and make it stop. He'd been disappointed at the development. But as he stared back at the hat upon being called up to be sorted, Toby couldn't help but feel disappointed he couldn't show his worth some other way. A hat? Come on, how boring a way to enter Hogwarts.
He sat down on the stool, the hat spilling over his curly hair and it became to speak to him. Well at least that was something.
"What is your most treasured memory?"
The question surprised him, surprised a hat would ask such a question, but then again the hat had to get lonely just by nature of being a hat and one that likely wasn't even on someone's head. Treasured memories probably helped the hat feel as if it's had an adventure of a sort. "My first time at the de Montfault Theatre." His lips curled into an involuntary grin as he thought of that nght. "[i]My godfather took me to see Midsummer Night's Dream and it was the most magical thing I had ever seen." It wasn't strictly true that his godfather had taken him, his godfather had had him there with him and when there were empty seats in the back of the theatre for the performance he'd allowed the antsy five year old to sit and watch. And thus Toby's love of Shakespeare and theatre had begun.
"Who knows you best, and why?"
Well now the hat was just getting a bit too personal. His brothers were all so much older than him that the kinship they shared between them wasn't something he also shared in. His mother hardly knew what to do with him and his father even less. His friends, they knew him, but he didn't feel as if they quite understood him. It felt a bit like a failing to admit it, but he supposed he ought to be truthful, "My godfather. He has been the only one to let me be myself. He's encouraged my love of theatre, and he tolerates me more than anyone else. But he doesn't know me all that well either." And then he thought, rather not considering this whole conversation was taking place through thoughts, "I know myself best."
"How would you describe yourself?"
A self assured smile replaced his furrowed features, "Vibrant!" It was the first word that came to mind, more jumbled into his thoughts after that. "And bold. And curious, I suppose." What else was he supposed to say? Didn't people get to know you on their own. How did he boil the essense of his being down to only a few words. "I'm not afraid to make a point, and I love to learn new plays. I really like to make people smile and try to create for them the magic of that first night at the de Montfault. Oh and I'm very cheerful and optimistic." Do I admit I'm stubborn? Mother always says I am. And lazy, but I don't think I'm lazy, I just don't like doing what she asks. It's always the most boring things Again his thoughts wondered off, forgetting to adress them to the hat or realize the hat could very well hear them.
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
"I'd sleep in as late as I'd like." Toby started with zeal. "And then I'd have candy for breakfast. Porriage is so boring. And then I'd flying on a broomstick with the wind racing around me and spend hours looping around. I'd stop for lunch and have pie. Oh! And then I'd work on my scenes and when I got sleepy in the midafternoon I'd go read a play under a tree. And then for dinner I'd meet up with my friends and have a feast! And afterward we'd all go see a play. And then after it was dark we'd all go flying over Padmore Park and play a pickup game of quidditch and I'd get a chance to dramatically save Ella or some more lady like lady from distress. And I'd be able to stay up as late as I like." Toby probably could have eleaborated on this a good deal more if the hat hadn't cut him off with the next question.
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
"Flying!" Why would anyone else give a different answer? Flying was one of the best parts of being a wizard. Especially with the ban in place and the fact that they couldn't fly at home, it seemed the perfect class. "[Because why you fly and you feel that wind, that breeze," The hat had likely never experienced this particular joy so Toby felt it was his duty to try to capture the joy and let the hat feel it himself. "It feels like freedom. Like everything falls away until it is simply joy and speed, and the sky around you. Everything melts into a painting below and it feels as if it is just you. And then it's even better when you realize someone else is flying with you! And you can laugh and shout and feel completely unhindered. Flying was almost as good as acting, Toby thought, almost, but not quite. Acting let him try on different personalities, like coats, let him feel a freedom of its own.
![[Image: 1LnnXQu.png]](https://i.imgur.com/1LnnXQu.png)
He sat down on the stool, the hat spilling over his curly hair and it became to speak to him. Well at least that was something.
"What is your most treasured memory?"
The question surprised him, surprised a hat would ask such a question, but then again the hat had to get lonely just by nature of being a hat and one that likely wasn't even on someone's head. Treasured memories probably helped the hat feel as if it's had an adventure of a sort. "My first time at the de Montfault Theatre." His lips curled into an involuntary grin as he thought of that nght. "[i]My godfather took me to see Midsummer Night's Dream and it was the most magical thing I had ever seen." It wasn't strictly true that his godfather had taken him, his godfather had had him there with him and when there were empty seats in the back of the theatre for the performance he'd allowed the antsy five year old to sit and watch. And thus Toby's love of Shakespeare and theatre had begun.
"Who knows you best, and why?"
Well now the hat was just getting a bit too personal. His brothers were all so much older than him that the kinship they shared between them wasn't something he also shared in. His mother hardly knew what to do with him and his father even less. His friends, they knew him, but he didn't feel as if they quite understood him. It felt a bit like a failing to admit it, but he supposed he ought to be truthful, "My godfather. He has been the only one to let me be myself. He's encouraged my love of theatre, and he tolerates me more than anyone else. But he doesn't know me all that well either." And then he thought, rather not considering this whole conversation was taking place through thoughts, "I know myself best."
"How would you describe yourself?"
A self assured smile replaced his furrowed features, "Vibrant!" It was the first word that came to mind, more jumbled into his thoughts after that. "And bold. And curious, I suppose." What else was he supposed to say? Didn't people get to know you on their own. How did he boil the essense of his being down to only a few words. "I'm not afraid to make a point, and I love to learn new plays. I really like to make people smile and try to create for them the magic of that first night at the de Montfault. Oh and I'm very cheerful and optimistic." Do I admit I'm stubborn? Mother always says I am. And lazy, but I don't think I'm lazy, I just don't like doing what she asks. It's always the most boring things Again his thoughts wondered off, forgetting to adress them to the hat or realize the hat could very well hear them.
"Describe your perfect day from start to finish."
"I'd sleep in as late as I'd like." Toby started with zeal. "And then I'd have candy for breakfast. Porriage is so boring. And then I'd flying on a broomstick with the wind racing around me and spend hours looping around. I'd stop for lunch and have pie. Oh! And then I'd work on my scenes and when I got sleepy in the midafternoon I'd go read a play under a tree. And then for dinner I'd meet up with my friends and have a feast! And afterward we'd all go see a play. And then after it was dark we'd all go flying over Padmore Park and play a pickup game of quidditch and I'd get a chance to dramatically save Ella or some more lady like lady from distress. And I'd be able to stay up as late as I like." Toby probably could have eleaborated on this a good deal more if the hat hadn't cut him off with the next question.
"What class are you most excited about? Why?"
"Flying!" Why would anyone else give a different answer? Flying was one of the best parts of being a wizard. Especially with the ban in place and the fact that they couldn't fly at home, it seemed the perfect class. "[Because why you fly and you feel that wind, that breeze," The hat had likely never experienced this particular joy so Toby felt it was his duty to try to capture the joy and let the hat feel it himself. "It feels like freedom. Like everything falls away until it is simply joy and speed, and the sky around you. Everything melts into a painting below and it feels as if it is just you. And then it's even better when you realize someone else is flying with you! And you can laugh and shout and feel completely unhindered. Flying was almost as good as acting, Toby thought, almost, but not quite. Acting let him try on different personalities, like coats, let him feel a freedom of its own.