Even though he knew the hat talked, he jumped when he heard it talking
in his head! Wow!
What trait do you find impossible to tolerate in others?
If he could have seen anything from beneath the hat, he might have looked around to see who was talking. He had never had anyone... or, any
thing talk to him without really talking to him before. It took him a few seconds get over his surprise enough to actually even think about what the question was.
"Erm.... I dunno." he mumbled out loud.
"Maybe when they're mean and just... want all the good things for them, but not other people even if they don't work hard. That's not nice." He really didn't like people like that. There had been some of them at his old school who didn't like that he got awards for French or spelling when they didn't even try to practice and be good at it. They just thought they should get all the awards no matter what because they wanted them. He had barely finished answering that question when another popped into his head.
Rules were made to... Finish the sentence.
He squirmed in his seat, trying his best to think quickly. He didn't want to hold other people up by not knowing, but he also didn't want to say anything he didn't mean and make the hat say the wrong house
"To..." he blurted, just a but too soon, not really sure what to say next. It depended on the rule, didn't it? And the person who made it.
"I mean, rules were meant to make sure you're safe. Like, you can't get too close to the side of the boat if a storm comes and kids have to go below deck. My dad always says that because my uncle, he wasn't a kid anymore, but he got close to the side and he drowned." That's what the right kind of rules were for anyway. Sometimes, there were rules that just didn't seem to be for anything. Dad said those sorts of rules were usually just to make selfish people happy.
You're told that the career of your dreams is unobtainable - what do you about it, if anything?
"The... career? ... is unobtainable?" he asked, trying to search back in his memory for words like those, then he had it! He wasn't sure if he'd remembered them or if it was magic, but, they were there, at least, he thought.
"Like.. I can't do the job I want? Well, I used to want to be a pirate, but a good pirate, like a Robin Hood pirate, when I was little. Then I found out that there weren't really any pirates in the channel anymore, so I decided to be a fisherman like my dad instead. If I couldn't do that, I guess I would join the Royal Navy, and, if I couldn't do anything on a boat, I would probably just be a dairy farmer because my grandad does that. Milk is pretty nice. Not so exciting, but Grandad would be happy. Or maybe something magic. I just don't know a lot about magic jobs." He didn't really think he would want a magic job and he didn't understand why anyone would tell him he couldn't be a fisherman, but, if it was true, what else could he do but find something else? You had to work or you couldn't feed your family or have a house, and that wasn't good. It was kind of funny, being there under the hat. Maybe it was so big because they weren't meant fo see the other kids. He thought it would probably be a lot harder answering the sort of questions it was asking if he could see a whole school staring back at him. This was, it was almost like he was alone with the hat.
Would you help a stranger at the expense of your friends or family?
Tommy's eyebrows scrunched together as he thought.
"Like hurting them?" he questioned the talking hat back
"I don't know. These questions are hard. Maybe, if the other person would die without help and my friends or family would just have a bad day or something. They would want me to, even if they were cross at first. It's the Christian thing to do." That's what Mum would say, anyway. He wouldn't want to hurt his friends or family, but he wouldn't want to hurt a stranger either. If they were both going to get hurt the same amount, he supposed he would choose to make it better for his friends or family, or even better, if he could get hurt instead and protect them all, that sounded even better, kind of like being a hero, unless he got hurt a lot to save them from being hurt only a little. That wouldn't be fair.
What is the worst thing that can happen to someone and why?
If he thought the questions couldn't get any harder, he was wrong. Or maybe just any sadder. This answer actually seemed pretty obvious, just not so nice to talk about.
"Well... the worst thing would be... to die, I guess." he tossed out for what must have been the dozenth time for the hat. He didn't think there were more than one or two other answers that anyone could give. Dying was
dying, after all. When you died, you were
dead!
"Then, your family has to miss you. My grand-mere was really sad when my uncle died. My dad says it's good they found him, that just being missing would be worse, except, I don't think so, because, at least, if you're just missing, people might think you're still alive. And then, you have to wait. Even if you go to heaven, you have to wait so long until the rest of your family gets there. And, if you were bad and you go to hell, it's even worse because I don't think you ever get to see them again, then, because it's hell." That was why he always tried to be good, well, that and because it was the right thing to do, but he also
really didn't think Hell sounded very nice.
Choose one: rabbit, fox, stoat, bat.
By this time, answering had gotten easier and not just because this wasn't such a serious question. He had gotten into a pattern by now too. He supposed he could have answered those sorts of questions all day if he had to. It was what they were all there for from what he heard.
"To eat or for a pet? My mum cooks rabbit sometimes. It's nice. But, if I had a pet, I think a fox would be the best, as long as it didn't bite."
The Sorting Hat