 Yeahhh, Mr White! Yeah science!
“Blake. Samson Trevellious.”
Sam cringed--was that laughter--as he approached the front. Anyone who knew it LOVED to declare his middle name to the masses, didn't they? He sat and the hat was placed on his head.
“Slow to magic but certainly not slow by all means.” The voice.. the voice of the hat was IN his head.. It wasn't his own usual confused inner monologue he could hear; no, it was coming FROM the HAT. This school was the best. It was like being at a theme park 24/7. How could his cousin be so morose about all THIS? Talking hats, invisible flying skeleton horses.. and they'd only just got here. He looked up, trying to see the hat. He liked to see a person's face when they were talking to him. Not that this hat was 'people', but it could talk. And that was enough for Sammy.
“Brave.. brash.. You're an ambitious sort aren't you, boy?” Sam scrunched up his nose and spoke with.. Ooh.. the power of his mind right back to the hat. “Compliments, hat. Compliments. You want to make a lad blush Gryffindor red?” Aye.. he knew the houses and what they represented. “You could do well in the Lions den.” It stated. 'What about Ravenclaw?' Sam spoke telepathically to the hat, his expression strained as if he was trying really hard to make himself heard. Layla had been sorted into Ravenclaw moments ago. Keep it in the family?“Not slow, but you're no Ravenclaw.” Back came the voice.
“SLYTHERIN!”
Wow.. oohkay.. so no room for negotiation here?
The hat was removed from his head and Sammy bowed jovially to the clapping.. and then headed off to join the students at the Slytherin table. |