It's been a while.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, even to the guest who takes fanfiction far too seriously. If you're looking for an uber-serious story, then I'm afraid you're in the wrong place. This will have random offhand comments and references, and may contain instances of the so-called "fourth wall" being broken.

Anyway, on with the show:

2) Fourth Wall? What Fourth Wall? There's Only Three: Maria, Rose and Sina...

The entrance hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry looked distinctly...unimpressive.

It was just a large room. With boringly bare stone walls. Harry planned to rectify this soon enough.

Anyway, the crowd of young conformists-in-training (plus some others) followed Professor McGonagall into a chamber containing another set of ostentatiously large doors, where she paused, turned around, and gave an obviously planned spiel about the house system, featuring subtle psychological tricks to begin the campaign to induce Slytherin-hate into the youngsters.

If he were to be perfectly honest, Harry would tell you that he tuned her out as soon as she said that 'your house will be like your family', because that really didn't bode well for the quality of his school life.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said the deputy headmistress, breaking Harry from his moment of introspection. She then turned and left through a side door, leaving the pre-teens by themselves in a strange place.

Now, you might think that Anthony Potter, Ronald Weasley, Draco Malfoy or one of numerous other brash, confrontational youths present in the chamber would attempt to get in an insult or two. You might think that a confrontation is inevitable. Well, in this instance, you'd be correct.

Draco sidled up to Harry's twin, and they stared at each other, sizing each other up. They each had a crowd of people behind them, which collectively made up for around 90% of the children present.

"Malfoy," said Anthony, in a tone brimming with hate – despite the fact that the two boys barely knew each other. He also scrunched up his nose, as though he'd caught a whiff of something which smelt particularly disgusting.

"Potter," said Draco, in much the same tone – with the scrunching of the nose to match.

"Hi!" exclaimed Harry, waving his hand at him, "Sorry I didn't introduce myself properly, mister bad faith!"

Malfoy was so confused by this outburst that he attacked himself in confusion, despite it not actually being his turn. After a long few seconds, however, he recovered his composure.

However, before he could make what Harry was sure was going to be a very witty remark, McGonagall returned.

"Now, if you'll all form a line and follow me, you'll be sorted momentarily."

"That looked fun," Su whispered into Harry's ear as she took her place in the line behind him.

"Yeah, it sure was," he returned in kind.

As they entered the unnecessarily extravagant Great Hall, Harry immediately noticed that old Gandalf-of-the-Greater-Good was sitting in a throne, whilst the other teachers had regular chairs and the students sat on benches. Let the psychological warfare begin.

Damn, now even Harry was giving people hyphenated nicknames. Perhaps he was susceptible to indoctrination after all. Or perhaps the hyphens that Harry so hated were just that powerful. Harry personally thought that the latter option was more likely.

Harry noticed that his brother was getting stared at by hungry-looking teenage girls. He was sure that it must count as paedophilia for some of the older girls. Ha. There were also a couple of teenage boys staring at Anthony.

Double ha. Sadly, however, he seemed not to notice, and merely continued with his pretentious strutting.

Harry was never so glad that his appearance was so dissimilar to his brother's – he was never a fan of being stared at. Unless it was because of something he'd just said, and the person staring was doing so in shock or befuddlement. Then he found it quite amusing.

The line of first years seemed to be approaching a stool, on which there stood a hat. A stereotypical pointed wizard's hat. A very dirty stereotypical wizard's hat.

Harry wondered what it had to do with the segregation ceremony that they were about to undergo – it was obviously involved in some way, given the stares that the older students and staff were directing towards it

Now, you might think that, in my infinite laziness, I'll have just copied the Sorting Hat's original song, or maybe that I'll just not have bothered to include one at all. Well, I'm afraid that you, dear reader, have just activated my trap card.

Look at me:

I'm a hat,

I can sing

How about that?

I can see your thoughts and desires;

There's no hiding from me.

For I am infinitely powerful,

And no door requires a key!

Do not fear this frankly overpowered ability,

For I can only use it to fulfil my function -

Which is to create discord amongst you

By creating a crossroads, a junction.

Look at me:

I'm a hat,

I can sing

How about that?

If I put you in Godric's house,

You'll join the lions of Gryffindor -

Where you'll learn that your place in society

Is to be the first to be sent to war.

I may put you with Helga's lot,

The badgers of Hufflepuff -

Where you won't be hunted by farmers,

But you'll learn that life is tough.

I could put you with Rowena's favourites;

You'd be with the ravens of Ravenclaw -

Here, you'll gain knowledge and a choice

To make or break the law.

However, Salazar had a group too -

You could join the non-slimy snakes of Slytherin,

Where you'll be hated and reviled

And pressured to help destroy society from within.

Look at me:

I'm a hat,

I can sing

How about that?

I wouldn't want to be in your position right now -

Your entire future rests upon my decision!

Unfortunately though, I have to put you where you 'belong',

By checking your personality with precision.

So come forward, put me on, let me take a look inside -

Don't worry, I don't care what you look like naked,

For I'm a piece of cloth without a libido

So I have no interest in anything X-rated.

Look at me:

I'm a hat,

I can sing

How about that?

"Seriously, who writes this shit?" Harry asked dryly, "the author of this story should be given a medal for making a pointless song both informative and mildly amusing, and for actually including a chorus." The hall was so silent that, despite him speaking rather quietly, practically the whole hall could hear his comment. Or it would have been, if it were in fact possible to have levels of silence beyond simply 'silent' and 'not silent'.

"I concur," spoke up Su from beside him, an amused grin on her face. Professor McGonagall shot them both a glare.

"If you would mind your language, Mr. Potter, you might avoid getting a detention before you've even been sorted," she spoke sternly, before unrolling the scroll of parchment that she now randomly held in her hands.

Many people were now confusedly staring between Harry and Anthony, the latter of whom was glaring at the former for stealing the spotlight. Harry smirked at Anthony when he noticed this.

Harry's comment had also had the effect of calming the not-so-large group of new students, who had mostly turned distinctly pale upon hearing the hat's words. Maybe laughter actually IS the best medicine! Maybe laughter stimulated a part of the brain to release pheromones into the body, which have a side effect of boosting the activity of white blood cells...

Harry suddenly realised that his thoughts had gotten off-topic, and the segregation ceremony was now well under way. Maybe he should stop channelling the author. Or maybe not.

"Finnegan, Seamus!" called out Professor McGonagall, and Harry recognised the boy that stepped forward as the ginger kid who came on the train. He snorted. People looked at him weirdly. Harry sighed in exasperation – why did he always get those looks? Oh yeah, he's weird. Cool.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat, after a minute or two of deliberation. Seamus looked relieved, probably because he apparently enjoys being ordered around by a boy his own age, and Anthony was certain to go there. Why was Harry so certain? He was sure that Dumbledore would influence the hat to sort the boy-who-lived in to the 'good' house, even if only to avoid getting the influential Potter parents pissed at him.

Also, Harry didn't think that his brother fit into any of the houses, so would probably get to choose.

Harry watched as the second of a pair of boys who appeared to be mentally lacking were sorted into Slytherin, but appearances can be, and often are, deceiving. Take house-elves, for example. Many of them look as frail as a baby, but they're quite frankly one of the most overpowered magical creatures in existence (or beings, whichever the correct term is nowadays); it's just too bad they're generally under-appreciated by uptight purebloods, who tend to be the only people to own them.

It would also be the mark of a Slytherin to not let anyone know their true intelligence. Honestly, Harry thought at this point that it could go either way – they could be hiding their intelligence, or they could actually be as slow as they look. VERY slow. Both physically and mentally.

"Li, Su!" called McGonagall. She looked rather worried as she began to step forward.

"Don't worry," Harry reassured her, "I'm not as impressionable or susceptible to the segregation system as most kids our age. In other words, I'll still be your friend even if one of us is a lion and the other is a snake – however unlikely that may be."

"Thanks," she whispered, gracing him with a small smile. So, Harry had guessed correctly then, that based on her apparent introversion and shyness (and lack of other friends), she would be worried about their friendship breaking apart due to them being sorted differently. Now that Harry actually had a friend (who he happened to quite like), he found himself quite unwilling to let that go. Judging by her reaction, though, both of their worries were quite unfounded.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat, and Su joined her new housemates with a relaxed smile. She seemed like a person who doesn't enjoy confrontation, so it made sense for her to be glad to be sorted into the most neutral house. Supposedly most neutral, anyway. There were probably still a few elitists, though. People never could take others thinking differently to them.

The segregation ceremony continued. Harry didn't really pay attention, until he saw Draco Malfoy get sorted into Slytherin so quickly that the hat barely had time to touch his hair. It was probably wary of being covered in gel.

The two boys from earlier (who's Slytherin characteristics were under question) instantly began ingratiating themselves to him with sycophantic behaviour. Their complete lack of subtlety (and the fact that they were trying to cosy up to an idiot) made Harry instantly lose all belief in the two boys possibly having a sense of expediency or a strong grasp on Machiavellian tactics, in spite of the Malfoy family fortune. Harry also thought that the author should stop being so sesquipedalian, and get on with the damn story.

"Potter, Anthony!" called McGonagall, and the entire hall went silent. The redhead in question swaggered up to the hat in an attempt to look impressive, but in actual fact just looking constipated.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat, making a decision almost as quickly as it had with Malfoy. How anticlimactic.

The table full of obvious cannon fodder cheered as loud as they could within the limits of the human voice for the future lead sacrifice. Harry hoped his hearing wasn't permanently damaged from it.

"Potter, Harry!"

Cue the muttering of people who hadn't realised that the the boy-who-lived had any siblings, let alone a twin brother. 99% of the people in the hall muttering was actually rather loud.

"Ah, the more mysterious twin," commented a voice in Harry's ear.

"I try. Mind telling me how you can access students minds, or are you bound to secrecy?" If the hat could have, Harry was sure it would have smirked.

"Not many people think to ask that Mr. Potter – in fact, you're the first in many years. Whilst I don't have the time to get in to specifics, I'm sure you can find information on legilimency in the school's library. In the restricted section, of course."

"And what would it take to bypass said restrictions?"

"Another good question, Mr. Potter. However, but I'm afraid that you'll have to figure that out for yourself."

"Nah, seems too ambiguous. I'll probably just go to Knockturn Alley or raid my family library over the Christmas holidays." Come to think of it, Harry was sure that he'd come across legilimency in one of the darker books of their library. Harry was surprised that his parents hadn't censored their library, what with boy wonder growing up with easy access to it. He supposed that they didn't bother, given James's inherent laziness and the fact that Anthony was not at all interested in reading. "Where are you gonna sort me anyway?"

"Honestly, you'd be a good fit for Slytherin, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. You'd just get annoyed by the narrow-mindedness which pollutes Gryffindor nowadays – how the mighty have fallen!"

"Can the same not be said for Slytherin?" Harry asked curiously – it seemed to be the case in his experience, which was admittedly limited.

"You'd be surprised. There's a healthy amount of neutral purebloods and half-bloods in Slytherin who pretend to be dark in order to survive living in Voldemort's recruiting ground/hunting ground."

"Huh. So how does this work then, do I get to choose?"

"You wouldn't normally, but I like you – so go ahead."

"That's nice to know," stated Harry tonelessly, "which is the overall best fit?"

"Going by your apparent curiosity, Ravenclaw. However, your earlier insightful questions display a certain type of intelligence which would lead you to thrive in Slytherin."

"Hmm. I'm tempted to go for Slytherin, just to piss off my family." Again with the hat's invisible smirk.

"That would indeed be quite entertaining. Sadly, this does not at all influence my decision, since I'd be locked up in greybeard's office when the shit hit the fan, so to speak."

"Cool nickname," was Harry's response.

"I know."

"My Mewtwo is called Assclown though. I win."

"You do realise that game doesn't come out for another five years?"

"Two words, Mr. Hat: alternate universe."

"Ah."

"Anyway, I've made my decision. I think I'll go for..."

YAY; CLIFFHANGER!...

...Uh, no.

"...Ravenclaw."

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat, and Harry went to sit by Su, who made a space for him at the table.

Some insignificant minor characters were then sorted into various houses, and the boy-who-lived's favourite toy was sorted into Gryffindor alongside him. It was then that Harry noticed the distinct lack of darker-skinned kids present in the hall, and wondered if wizards were even more racist than he previously thought.

Dumbledore then stood up, which was the author's cue to end the chapter.

Thanks for reading; I hope you enjoyed this chapter. There may be a few grammatical errors (or random switching of tense), purely because I was ridiculously tired when I wrote this - and I don't have a beta. Not that I really want one. Just tell me if you notice any major errors, and I'll try to fix them.

If you wish to flame me, go ahead. Distillation won't happen by itself, y'know. No, that wasn't meant to be an accurate analogy for what will happen if someone flames this story, so please don't expect that it will actually have an effect.

Next chapter will feature Dumbledore spurting some random insults, him not being taken at all seriously, and many people gorging themselves on slave-baked food. Also an introduction to the workings of the coolest house.

I end my turn. Go.