Half Blood Royalty

Dumbledore's Office

The three of us stepped off of the stone staircase at the top just before McGonagall knocked on the door. Slightly, it opened, and we entered. Professor McGonagall told the two of us to wait before leaving us in the room alone. I noticed Harry glance around. I wouldn't blame him for being intrigued. Out of every office that the Professors had on the school grounds, Dumbledore's office was by far the most interesting.

"Don't be too nervous." I nudged at Harry's arm, "Dumbledore's honestly just a softie." I paused, before adding on, "Do not ever tell the other Slytherins that I ever said that."

We both had a small look around the room. I mostly just wanted to try and help calm Potter's nerves down. I may have never actually been to a Muggle school, but being sent to the Headmaster's office has got to be terrifying, even for them. Especially since we were both technically found at the body of two (petrified) stiff bodies.

The office was a large and circular room, where a number of silver instruments stood on tables as they whirred about and emitted little puffs of smoke. The walls had been covered floor-to-ceiling with portraits of every old headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. Harry should be glad they were sleeping on his first day in this office. During my first ever visit here, I met the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black; a man who shot me a cold stare as I approached. Apparently, he dislikes anyone who isn't a Pure-Blood Slytherin so my father and I must be a nightmare for him. An enormous, claw-footed desk sat with a shelf stood behind it. A shabby, tattered wizard's hat - the Sorting Hat - sat on it. I noticed Harry look around at the sleeping wizards and witches on the wall before taking a step closer to the Hat, hovering it above his head. I followed behind him, so that the hat was now above both of us.

A small voice sounded in our ears, "Bee in your bonnet, kids?"

"Er-" Harry muttered, "Er- Sorry to bother you- I wanted to ask-"

"You've been wondering whether or not I put you in the right house." the Hat spoke with confidence, "Yes... You were particularly difficult to place. The both of you, that is. But... I still stand by what I said before-"

Harry and I exchanged a look.

"You would've done well in Slytherin, Harry Potter," The Hat spoke. Harry went to push the hat back onto the shelf it had been placed when I held the Hat over my own head once more. "You, Melody Snape," the Hat spoke out again, "must do for Slytherin what Harry Potter cannot."

"I-" I stumbled with my choice of words.

The Hat spoke out, loud enough for both Harry and I to hear (as if it knew Harry had already tried to walk away from the conversation), "Your Houses are exactly where you need to be. Don't doubt the decision I've made for you." I placed the Hat back on the shelf, turning back towards Harry.

"That Hat's wrong." He pointed towards the hat, which no longer moved or uttered another word.

"I doubt that the Hat could ever be wrong." I shrugged, "Although, we were told we were placed exactly where we needed to be... Maybe you are meant for Gryffindor, after all."

"That means you're meant for Slytherin, you know?"

"It is the only House I got to grow up around." I told him, "Much like your friend Ron must've grown up around all things Gryffindor-" I stopped myself. Do the Weasleys even talk about their house outside of Hogwarts? Maybe that's just a Malfoy thing- a Slytherin thing. The proudness of their own house and blood does seem to pertain strictly towards one house in particular.

A strange, gagging noise behind Harry made him turn around instantly. A smile spread across my face. Standing on a golden perch was an elderly-looking bird, which resembled that of a half-plucked turkey. I couldn't help but notice Harry staring as the bird looked back, making its weird, gagging noise all over again. Harry's reaction was similar to mine when I first found Fawkes looking as ill as he did now. His eyes dull as a couple more feathers fell from his tail. During my first time, both my father and Dumbledore convinced me that I actually killed the bird... freaking me out so much that Dumbledore had to make sure Fawkes was completely fine and healthy the next few times I saw him.