Minerva despaired.

"Brown, William" just had to be sorted into /her/ house.  She'd
already confiscated three rubber bands, a bar of chocolate, a
catapult, and some other child's frog from his pockets.   

And he /wouldn't/ sit still under the Hat.

"Who's next?" she thought, "Bott, Violet Elizabeth!"

The young woman did appear a little more presentable, with good
colour in her cheeks, and at least she could sit still.

She seemed, however, to be having a conversation with the Hat.

A conversation that erupted suddenly, "I'll thcweam, and I'll thcweam,
and I'll thcweam until I'm Thlytherin!" 

Minerva and Snape despaired.