Back to more Sirius matters. Ha, see what I did there? Truly I am a comedian of unparalleled skill. For the life of me, I don't understand why Black betrayed my parents. Or murdered Pettigrew. Or 13 Muggles alongside him. (I do, unfortunately, understand why those Muggles were just mentioned as an afterthought, and I don't like it at all.) And I couldn't find any mention of Black's trial, which might have cleared things out. But then again, I asked for information on my parents, not Black. Maybe I'd come back to the library one day to figure it out, but for now, I'd had enough of walking down memory lane.
Professor Sinistra accompanied me to talk to Dumbledore about putting on a production of the Tempest. I was glad she was with me, because it was a very strange conversation and I have a hunch it would have gone a lot worse if I'd been alone with him.
"It's nice to meet you, headmaster," I said politely. I didn't want to make an enemy out of Dumbledore, even though he was clearly off his rocker and had some weird plan centered on me. If there was one thing I learned from reading accounts of the war, it was that Dumbledore made Gandalf look like an amateur by comparison. An army of sixty Death Eaters had once tried to kill them; he'd sent them packing without even needing to kill any of them or taking a scratch. "I'm Harry Potter. Though I suppose you know that already."
"My boy," he said in a sad, mournful tone. I felt a sudden stab of pity for him and I wasn't entirely sure why. He didn't look like he had all of his marbles. "My boy, my boy, my boy," he repeated as if he was stuck on some sort of loop.
Professor Sinistra cleared her throat pointedly. This was probably not the first time she's heard him do this. "Ah, yes, thank you, Aurora," Dumbledore said serenely. "We meet again, Harry. Would you care for a lemon drop?" He held out a tray which was entirely empty.
"Yes?" I said tentatively, wondering what, precisely, the correct answer was. Even Professor Sinistra looked entirely weirded out.
"Very good, Harry," Dumbledore said with a wide smile. "So what brings you to my domain?"
I was taken aback, expecting him to ramble further, but I launched into my spiel anyway. Ron and Hermione had been helping me perfect it over the last few weeks. I told him about how I wanted to introduce people at Hogwarts to a bit of Muggle culture so they could see we weren't really all that different. I told him about how Professor Sinistra would be keeping a close watch over everyone so there wouldn't be a repeat of the last stage production. I told him about how I, personally, believed it would be for the greater good if he gave his stamp of approval. From reading the Hogwarts Gazette (lovely paper, loads better than the Daily Prophet), I knew Dumbledore loved talking about the greater good.
Dumbledore fixed me with a piercing stare. "My boy, I am disappointed in you. Do you not understand that the greater good was the motto of the penultimate dark lord? Only a villain would use it."
I blinked. "Headmaster, you yourself were quoted using it in the school paper."
Dumbledore's face turned thunderous. "I was misquoted! The greater good demands no one use the term the greater good any longer!" He suddenly looked plaintive. "Do tell me you understand, my dear boy."
"I…understand?" I lied through my teeth.
Dumbledore gave a genial smile. "Superlative. Well, James, it's nice to see you taking an interest in an extracurricular activity that isn't Quidditch." He gave me a conspiratorial wink. "Perhaps this will help you in capturing the heart of young Miss Evans, no?"
Oh my God was that my Mum?! I barely restrained myself from hoping lightning would come from the sky and strike me down, but only because I didn't want to take the chance of it actually happening. "Sir, can I go now?"
Dumbledore scowled at me. "Not just yet, Harry." Well, at least we were back to him talking to the right person. "I was very disappointed when you were sorted into Slytherin."
I just sat there calmly, waiting for him to go on and say something else. Maybe someone else would have reacted – Ron sure would have; sorry, mate – but I've gotten used to letting unfair comments slide right off me like water slides off a duck. "That doesn't bother you?" Dumbledore went on, sounding bewildered.
"Not especially, sir," I said coolly. "Disappointment is a part of life. We all have to learn to grin and bear it, or we end up like my spoiled cousin."
"Don't you think your parents would have wanted you to be in Gryffindor?" Dumbledore practically begged me. "Don't you think you're dishonoring their sacrifice by being in Slytherin?"
I blinked. "No? Did you hate my parents, headmaster?"
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