A Snake's Crutch Book 1

Part 6: Quiet Conversations

When y/n opened the door, she found herself walking into a large circular office with many large windows. Where ever there wasn't a window, there were many paintings of older witches and wizards hanging on the wall, the people in them fast asleep. 

On the other side of the room, facing y/n was a desk and throne like chair. And in the chair sat Professor Dumbledore, smiling happily at her over his half-moon spectacles, still in his maroon robes from dinner, as if he had been waiting for her all night.

"Come in, my dear, come in! You wished to speak to me?" A twinkle in Dumbledore's eye told her he had, in fact, been waiting for her. 

"I...yes. I did want to speak to you," y/n said, walking up to the desk. "Tonight, I was sorted into Slytherin."

"Yes, you were, my dear! And how do you like it?" Dumbledore smiled kindly at her, waiting for her reply. 

"I...It's great, but--"

"Have you made any friends?"

"Yes, I--"

"Well, the--"

"I came in here to ask if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake." Y/n instantly felt guilty for interrupting the kind old professor, but his smile merely deepened. 

"I did no such thing!" said a voice, appalled, from a self to the left of Dumbledore's desk. "I stand by where I placed you! Do you not remember what I said?"

Y/N looked at Dumbledore, hoping to find help there -- she was arguing with a hat! -- but she found none. Only that Professor Dumbledore now wore an amused smile.

"Well, yes, but--"

"Ravenclaw would have been easy, but Slytherin was right. It still is." The hat humphed and y/n got the feeling that, if it had had arms, they would be crossed over its body. 

"But I'm a..." y/n interrupted loudly, but stopped talking when she realized the name she was about to use. "I'm a mud--"

"Ah!" Dumbledore finally cut in, holding up a finger to stop her. "Don't use that word." But he wasn't angry, he was simply making a request.

"Fine, I'm a muggle born. Salazar Sytherin--"

"Went missing a long time ago," said the professor calmly. "He cannot get angry at you for belonging in his House."

"But...do I really belong there?" Y/N looked down at her hands folded in her lap, tears returning to her eyes.

"My dear, there will always be someone who doesn't believe you belong where you are. Your job is to prove them wrong. Especially, if that person is yourself." Y/N looked up to find Dumbledore smiling kindly at her over his spectacles. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Professor..." y/n said, embarrassed by the tears running down her face. As she made her way back to the door, she turned back to Dumbledore. "Professor, what do I do when my house turns on me for not being like them?"

Now Dumbledore frowned. "I don't think either of us believes your whole house will turn against you because of your blood, y/n. You will always have friends who will stay by your side, no matter what. Even in the most unlikely of places." Then Dumbledore winked, and y/n thought he was thinking of Malfoy, the boy who everyone had claimed was an arrogant narcissist, who had been anything but rude to her since they met in Madame Malkin's shop.

"Thank you, Professor," said y/n, turning for the door. 

"Oh, and y/n, if you ever need help, go to Professor Snape. I am sure he can help you." Then Dumbledore nodded, dismissing her with another smile.