Percy Jackson and the Triwizard Tournament (Goblet of Fire)

Chapter 9: Stupid Hat.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione raced down the corridor, only to hear Professor McGonagall shriek, "Potter, Weasley, and Granger come back here this instant!"

Ron cursed under his breath, as the three slowly turned around. McGonogall had the Sorting Hat placed lightly in her hands held out in front of her, as she frowned while looking down at them, "Now what are you three doing running about the castle, and not enjoying the feast?"

"We're sorry Professor, but we just wanted to inform Dumbledore about..." Hermione exchanged glances at the other two, before continuing, "... something."

She looked at the three and sighed, "Well I'm sorry to tell you, but Headmaster Dumbledore is a very busy man... perhaps it can wait."

"It's urgent, Professor," Harry stepped forward.

She glanced down at the hat momentarily, before exasperatedly replying, "Oh very well! He should be out of his office in a moment," and she continued to walk down the hall, disappearing into Dumbledore's office.

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"Great, he leaves us in here with a talking hat," Thalia replied, as she took a few steps back when the hat "turned towards her."

"Ms. Grace I suppose?" Thalia's face paled, as she leaned against the desk while gripping onto it tightly. So tightly, Annabeth noticed that her knuckles turned white against the hard oak surface.

"How do you know that?" she muttered in barely a whisper.

"Well, I know many things! Of course maybe not as much as I would on top of your head, but I presume you are quite brave, yes? Ah... I see," the hat mused, tilting the brim of, well... himself... slightly towards the ceiling.

Thalia barely mouthed, "You know nothing about me..." but by the time she replied, the hat turned its attention to Percy.

And a good reason too, because at the moment Percy was lifting a book over his head, looking like he was ready to smash the hat flat. Its wrinkly eyes (quite literally, his eyes were basically crinkled holes on the side of the hat) looked up at him, while Percy froze, about ready to make an old leathery pancake.

"Put the book down, Jackson! It'll do you no good," Percy seemed quite surprised as the hat almost jumped upward off the floor.

Now holding the book dangerously at his side, he crouched down, as eye level as he could possibly be, "How come you talk?"

"Why, to sort people of course!"

"Sort people?" Annabeth raised an eyebrow.

"You don't believe me, Daughter of Athena? If you doubt my skills, put me on your head yourself!" the hat let out a sly grin.

Knowing she could never refuse a challenge, especially against some old hat, Annabeth swooped the hat up into her hand. Percy began sitting down on the steps of the stairs, as she gingerly placed it on her head.

Know, let's see... Annabeth almost jumped, as the voice amplified inside her head, as if she could hear it echoing and bouncing throughout her skull.

No need to be frightened, I am merely talking telepathically.

Duh, she thought sarcastically I didn't notice that when my head felt like it was crammed into a speaker.

Don't get all snarky, girl! It is always a startle to those who first put on the Sorting Hat.

Referencing yourself in third person now, huh? If Annabeth could raise an eyebrow telepathically, she would've.