Harry internally rolled his eyes, as he heard murmurs break out all over the hall. It was mostly upper class students. He wondered if it was the rarity of any sort of transfer student, or if it was the name Flamel. Harry was sure he'd find out later, as he turned and sat on the stool, facing the crowd. McGonagall wasted no time in setting the sorting hat on his head. Even his own mind, defended as it was wouldn't recognize it as an intrusion.
It took only a moment before Harry heard the sorting hat's voice in his head. He didn't even bother bracing himself, knowing that there was no form of occlumency that could stop the hat from getting a read on someone's mind.
"Well, let's see what we have here. You're a bit older than I'm used to…" The hat's musing voice trailed off for several seconds. "What the bloody hell?" The hat's voice resounded in his mind.
Harry was thankful that the hat was speaking only to him and not to the hall at large. "Um… Hi! I can explain!"Even as he was saying it, he was mentally cursing himself for the complete lack of preparedness for this moment.
The sorting hat's voice was dismissive, "Don't bother. It's all right here in your head. You've been through quite the ringer haven't you?"
"That's one way of putting it." Harry replied with a mental shrug. He knew he wasn't likely to have any secrets when the hat was through with him. It was the reason Harry hadn't put a ton of thought into a convincing story or argument for the hat. He knew the hat would see to the heart of the matter anyway.
"There really wasn't much left there at all, was there?"The sorting hat mused as it sifted through Harry's mind and memories especially as it examined the last few years of Harry's life. Harry just shrugged mentally. He knew he couldn't hide anything from the hat and though he could feel the presence of the hat in his head, it was a lot like feeling the air in his lungs. He could tell it was there, but couldn't do anything about it.
"Your mind is… damaged." The hat said bluntly and rather suddenly.
Harry cocked his head to the side very slightly, "My brain is just fine." His voice was polite and defensive at the same time.
"We are talking about your mind, not your brain. Two different things." The hat corrected primly.
"Oh." Harry frowned but had no real reply to that. He knew exactly what the hat was talking about. He had never mastered occlumency, but the repeated violations of his mind had created a unique defense. He didn't have impenetrable walls or a cleared mind. Harry had an unconscious mind that reacted powerfully and violently to any sort of intrusion. Harry had no control over it whatsoever and couldn't even let someone in if he wanted to. "Couldn't do anything with occlumency, and my mind had to protect itself somehow."
The hat completely bypassed his defense as a magical artifact, but could still feel the turmoil it set off within his mind. "Quite right. Also quite dangerous for anyone trying to enter your mind." The hat replied.
"With all the things to worry about. That is the least of my concerns. No one should be entering my mind. If they do, they deserve what they get. The secrets of my world are mine to keep." Harry replied sharply.
The hat said with a sigh. "You blame yourself for far too much. You hold the destruction of the world and all those deaths as your own fault. That burden should not fall to you."
"It was my fault." Harry replied bluntly and with heat. "It was my job to defeat Voldemort and I failed. Whatever excuses and rationalization you put behind that failure, the fact remains. I failed. Voldemort may not have ruled the world, but he got his second choice. Destroying it. He was very successful at it."
"And yet you were hindered at nearly every step of the way." The hat argued, though there was a resigned tone to his voice, as if it knew it was a losing argument.
"What does it matter what hindered me? I wasn't strong enough. Wasn't smart enough. Wasn't powerful enough. Every single death can be laid at my feet as much as anyone else's. The deaths of people protecting me, the deaths of people following me and fighting with me, the deaths of people who died because of simple proximity to me, and the deaths of people I couldn't protect. That is my burden." Harry responded, his eyes flickering over to the Hufflepuff table and finding Cedric Diggory. Not the first person whose death he was responsible for, but the first person who died because Harry couldn't protect him. The image of Cedric's dead body and sightless eyes flicking through his mind, briefly.
There was a silence, then a very sad voice. "Perhaps it's not just the mind that's damaged, but your soul as well."
Without giving Harry time to reply or ask what the hat meant by that, it continued "What are you hoping to get out of this?" The sorting hat asked curiously, though it's tone still carried tinges of sadness and thoughtfulness.
Harry was silent at that, trying to figure out what the hat meant by it's previous statement, before he realized that he had been asked a question. "Well, I'm hoping to convince you not to share what you see in my head with anyone." Harry replied bluntly.
There was a soft chuckle in Harry's mind. "No need to worry about that. The magic the founders weaved into the hat and the castle itself forbid me from spilling the secrets of a sorting."
"Even if it's a second sorting?" Harry asked bluntly. It wasn't that he didn't believe the hat. It was one of the few beings that had never lied to him, but he was just being cautious.
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