hermione jean granger walks proudly toward professor mcgonagall who places godric gryffindor’s famous sorting hat on her head. it thinks. it studies her mind carefully, and thinks almost certainly that she must be either a ravenclaw or a gryffindor. there’s a bluntness to her speech and a curiosity beyond doubt, and surely hermione will find a home within the walls of more books than she could dream of. in her mind, she has thousands of words memorized from the textbooks that fascinate her most, yet something keeps the sorting hat from placing her just yet.
it’s something else detected underneath her intelligence—a certain kind of bravery. yes, she would do well in ravenclaw. yes, she would find a home within the walls of books but something about the way she walked to the front of the great hall and something about the way she sat on the stool and something about the way she questioned the sorting hat made it think twice about placing her in ravenclaw.
after all, hermione would need the courage she held inside her muggleborn blood and sharp intelligence. so the hat placed her in gryffindor.
harry james potter is called to the front of the great hall, and he takes unstable steps in an effort to make it to the stage, and the stability, he hoped he would reach. professor mcgonagall places the sorting hat on his head, and harry waits for a few seconds that feel like hours. the entire hall is so silent harry worries that every soul in the building could hear his thoughts.
the sorting hat sees harry’s cunning and ambition. it sees an entire experience waiting for harry in slytherin, and emerald green seeps into harry’s thoughts, but he doesn’t want it. his whole life harry had been labeled the “outsider.” aunt petunia, uncle vernon, and dudley dursley never made harry feel at home not to mention the school environment he was tormented in. then as soon as he was introduced to the wizarding world he was introduced to his real story, and the life he spent wanting to fit in escaped him once again. harry did not want to be slytherin. he did not want to be labeled closer to voldemort than he was—he did not want strangers to see red eyes when they looked into his green ones.
not slytherin, not slytherin, not slytherin, he chanted in his mind. so the sorting hat agreed, and shouted a “GRYFFINDOR!” that was met with wild applause sand a wash of crimson and gold from one of the house tables. harry let out a sigh of relief and the sorting hat was content. it knew that harry valued courage, and it knew that someday he would need that courage more so than he could ever have dreamed.
ronald bilius weasley walks timidly forward to the stool and the sorting hat. when professor mcgonagall places it on his head, it knows almost instantly where he should be. or maybe it knows almost instantly where he wants to be.
ron had just watched harry be placed in gryffindor and he knew that his entire family were alumni of the gryffindor house. forever he had wanted to come out of the shadows cast over him by his brothers and be something different but he was terrified of disappointing them. the hat thought for a moment, a part of it knowing that ron’s loyalty pulled the decision toward hufflepuff.
yet the hat knew that ron would need his courage more than anything. it knew that over the duration of his time at hogwarts, the most important thing for ron would be bravery, and it hoped that being in gryffindor would not make ron sink into the shadows once again, but reach him to have the courage to stand out.
all three were in gryffindor because that’s where they needed to be.
