This hat knew where it came from and it sure as hell didn’t want to go back there. Life in Samuel Boot’s office had been horrible - oh the things the hat had seen! The secrets it knew! But before it could meet the end of so many things in Boot’s office, buried forever under piles and piles of other things that he had brought in as examples for his History of Magic classes, it had been rescued by a house-elf, and for that the ushanka (it objected to being called a Cossack hat because it had not, indeed, been worn by a Cossack) was grateful.
Before it had come to be in Boot’s office, it had been the hat of a very esteemed Russian goblin general. It had been a proud hat, and it hoped that its next wearer would be the equal of the general. If they weren’t, the hat fully intended to instill the goblin general’s values in them anyway. One way or another, the hat would never be defeated again. It was determined.
Unbeknownst to the hat, some wayward magic had slipped into it in the time it had spent tucked away in the Secret Passageways with all the other hats in the house-elf’s collection. Anyone who came within a few feet of it would be compelled to pick it up and put it on. Worse, it was now a semi-sapient Thinking Cap and would help grease the wheels in the wearer’s mind, bringing to light as many ideas as they might possibly come up with and compelling them to share them out loud. Those thoughts would become actions, for as the hat had learned with the goblin general, the action made the sandwich.
...it sounded better in Gobbledygook.