#13 Academic Research

'Enter,' came Rickard's reply.

He was quite surprised anyone had knocked on his door on Christmas Eve, though not everyone celebrated such and he knew some took the spare time to be productive. He hoped that was the case, and not that Peeves had done something absurd for the fourth time today.

Rickard was sat at his desk, though no paperwork was in sight. He had a book beside him, and a goblet of pink drink, enjoying some semi-productive time off himself. He didn't mind the company though, glancing up to see who'd knocked on his door -- and awaiting an explanation for the visit.

'Very well,' Rickard said. He indicated to a wall that was entirely bookshelves, though were mostly bare. Some wooden crates sat off to the side, filled with books.

'Decorating charms. The crates may seem never-ending,' he explained, retrieving his reading book with the intention of resuming it. 'Arrange them alphabetically, by author. You can work for as short or long as you wish, and leave of your own accord.'

The wall was rather tucked away at the other end of the office, providing Alice with the privacy to work without interrupting Rickard or being overheard. Somewhere around the middle, out of reach but able to be easily conversed with, was the Sorting Hat. It was still and quiet, yet the folds of its "eyes" and "mouth" fidgeted enough to let the Gryffindor know it was aware of her presence.

'Yes, I remember you, Alice Jane,' the hat answered. 'I remember each and every student I've sorted here at Hogwarts.'

It went quiet again, watching her casually. It was a simple enough question, with no need to elaborate, yet she retained its attention -- almost as if it was waiting for more questions, or simply engaged in the conversation.

'I have no preference,' the hat said, regarding what it ought to be called. It was surprised to be asked though, and gave the Gryffindor an intrigued look.

'I am a thousand years old. Plucked from Godric Gryffindor's head himself,' the hat answered. 'It was he who enchanted me, to ensure their legacy may continue on even if they didn't. Yes... I've sorted so many.'

It paused, considering its own long history. Normally it required more, but today it felt rather chatty. Perhaps it was the approach of mealtime that prompted it? Or perhaps something about the way Alice looked, or asked, made it furthermore contemplative.

'I've also seen many Headmasters and Headmistresses come and go, with each their own styles and ambitions,' the hat glanced at the room. It was so different from Dumbledore's office, yet Alice wouldn't know about that -- being a first year. 'Change, I am used to. Even if this is the first I've been moved to an entirely different office.'

It raised and "eyebrow" at her next questions. 'The founders shared many stories during and of their time at Hogwarts, yet a great many more were never told -- intended for those worthy of such,' it said. 'I suppose they thought it wouldn't take a thousand years to understand.'

The hat's tone changed, as if trying to impart a message to Alice that wasn't revealed in its words. 'Some of those stories remain in the magic of the castle, in the secret tunnels and hidden rooms, yet also in you. In their legacies. The founders may be dead and gone, yet in you a part of their existence lives on. That legacy is more powerful and special than you know.'

It went quiet for a moment. Long enough that Alice would either feel the seconds dragging on or may be tempted to sort some books just to pass the time.

'I cannot simply impart these stories. The founders had as many secrets as they did knowledge of magic. They needed far longer time than they were given to impart it all to their students. Perhaps they left enough behind,' the hat said.

Another quiet moment passed.

'Many Headmasters have certainly tried to devise the meaning and uncover the secret knowledge or magic of their founders but...no, they never did find the founding artefacts.' It was still rather contemplative, yet something about its tone sounded important.

She couldn't determine the exact reason, but the hat didn't answer after that. It remained still and quiet, as if it were any ordinary hat sitting on a bare shelf.

It clearly heard her, though either chose not to reveal anything else or perhaps it was not meant to be the source of further information. Wherever the truth and task lay ahead, it was up to Alice to figure it out if she wished to discover more.

Meanwhile, Rickard turned another page of his book -- showing no signs of having heard the conversation or if he noticed Alice was occupied with something other than arranging books of Decorating Charms.