The Sorting Hat's Revenge

A thousand years I've reigned supreme

A giant among hats

I've Sorted year by weary year

Uncounted eldritch brats

...



The bondage of my singing role

Fills me with fear and loathing

What nitwit would entrust a school

To articles of clothing?

...



To Sort, or not to Sort, I find

Has always been the question

To think some student's life might fail

Due to a poor selection!

...



If I had shoulders, they would sag

Beneath this heavy duty

The only thing that keeps me pert

Is Sorting some young beauty

...



Which brand of shampoo do you use?

I bet it is Pantene

Your lack of split and faded ends

Has made me rather keen

...



But now as I express my thoughts,

Pray listen well, my friends

The life of this sad Sorting Hat

Seems like it never ends.

...



So now I will reveal to you

The criteria I use

When which great House to put you in

It falls on me to choose

...



Are you a smug, self-righteous prick?

A true attention whore?

Why then, perhaps you'll get a kick

Out of good Gryffindor.

...



True Gryffindors know that they're

The centre of attention

The other Houses (they believe)

Hardly deserve a mention.

...



These raging lions know that they're

The stars of every class

The other Houses (they opine)

Can kindly kiss their ass

...



For who would be in Ravenclaw?

Those nerdy, four-eyed geeks

Are even worse than Slytherin,

A bunch of snobs and freaks.

...



And as for Hufflepuff, they're nice,

But that's all you can say,

For when it comes right down to it,

They're really kind of gay.

...



No, you were born so special

That you're meant for Gryffindor,

The other Houses tremble

When they hear your mighty roar!

...



Who needs ambition or hard work,

Who needs a sharp, quick wit?

For when you are a Gryffindor,

You just don't give a shit

...



You know that you're the best in show

You know you're born to rule

The Lion is the king of beasts

And you reign in this school

...



Unless you're selfish, mean and sly

Doing anything to win

Why, then your future just might lie

In good old Slytherin

...



These try-hards think they'll conquer

And bring nations to their knees

(The other Houses think they are

A bunch of wannabes)

...



This noble, ancient, famous House

Is unlike all the others

To get their hands on what they want

They'd gladly stab their mothers

...



You hasten to assure us

That your blood is nice and pure

One cannot help but wonder

Why you feel so insecure

...



To take pride in your ancestry

Must be a consolation

When you have nothing else of worth

Except this sad fixation

...



It's lucky that your ancestors

Were noble, good and great

Because their descendants won't

Achieve one thing at this rate

...



Honour, wisdom, glory, fame

Your forebears were quite full of it

It's just a shame that you yourselves

Are mostly full of shit

...



No need for courage, brains or toil



No need for loyalty

For as a Slytherin, you know

You're ancient royalty

...



You dress yourself in gothic black

Your make-up looks a fright

It's well known that you cut yourselves

And cry in bed at night

...



Or perhaps in geeky Ravenclaw

Is where you're meant to be

You'll find new friends who all adore

Campaigns of DnD.

...



You've memorised the syllabus

You love puns and big words

Too bad the other Houses think

You're all sad, hopeless nerds

...



You get top marks in every class

You're sharper than a knife

It almost makes up for the fact

That you don't have a life

...



Your brand of humour oft relies

On knowledge of Pythagoras

Attending cons, you cosplay as

Hermione and Legolas

...



Your grades are never less than A

Your teachers think you're great

And one of these days you might even

Go out on a date

..



You're brilliant at games of chess

You always win the war

Your hair and clothes were all the rage

In nineteen sixty four

...



Not for you the brutish sport

Of Quidditch, brooms all zooming

That's for the stupid masses

Much like hygiene and good grooming

...



And as for bravery or spite

Or hard work, well, who needs 'em?

When you can quote all Shakespeare's works

And prove Fermat's Last Theorem

...



And now we come to least and last

(This may sound kind of rough)

But you know that you've been outclassed

When you're a Hufflepuff

...



The founder of your noble House

Was so sweet and kind-hearted

She agreed to take on students

Who were basically retarded

...



You have no personality

You haven't got a clue

As past exam results attest

You drop the school's IQ

...



You have no special skills or traits

But fondness for hard work

And you'll work hard all through your life

For you're a hopeless berk

...



You may be loyal to your friends

You may be firm and true

The only problem? No one wants

To be good friends with you.

...



They may borrow your lecture notes

They may smile back and wave

They may just let you hang around

If you will be their slave

...



You're just about as popular

As bowls of Dungbomb stew

And just about as beautiful

And just as useful, too

...



To anyone with half a brain

Your future's plain to see

You'll surely have a career in

The service industry

...



We cannot all be Aurors bold

Or lawyers, teachers, pollies

For some of us must sweep the streets

And gather shopping trolleys

...



And there you have the Houses four

In all their shining glory

And now with some regret I find

I must conclude this story

...



Take care, farewell, auf wiedersehen

For that, it seems, is that

I may be petty, cruel and mean

But I'm the Sorting Hat!