"I'll be sure to tell Professor Sprout where you were, Harry, so you don't get in trouble. And I believe the next class you have is with Severus, so you'll be able to speed right along to it."
Harry just nodded as he watched Headmaster Dumbledore make tea. He was humming under his breath, nearly as loudly as the silver machines all around him whirred. There was a beautiful scarlet bird with some golden plumes sitting on a perch, who had sung to welcome them when they came into the office and who Headmaster Dumbledore said was a phoenix.
Professor Snape was sitting stiffly on the edge of his chair. He had refused the tea when the Headmaster offered it, so there were just two cups. Dumbledore handed one of them to Harry and said, "So, I assume that you have refused your father's offer to ensure that you could get into Slytherin House, hmmm?"
Professor Snape stared between them. "What?"
Harry held his head up. Mr. Malfoy had said a little about this, but not much. They still weren't all that comfortable around each other, most of the time. "Yes, he said that he could make sure that I had another chance to sit under the Sorting Hat," he said. "But I didn't want it, sir. Honestly. I'm very happy in Gryffindor House."
"I wish to understand this," Professor Snape said, looking now as if he wished he did have a teacup so he could use it to make noise. "Why in the world would—Mr. Malfoy be a candidate for Slytherin House? Just because of his heritage? There have never been such exceptions made before."
"They aren't common, but they have happened." Dumbledore waved his hand vaguely without taking his mildly interested gaze from Harry. "Besides, in this case, there is the fact that the Sorting Hat considered Mr. Malfoy for Slytherin originally, so this could be seen as restoring him to the original House he was destined for."
Now Professor Snape really looked as if he wanted to faint. "Is this because of—your heritage?" he asked, turning to stare at Harry directly.
Harry controlled the impulse to flinch. He really didn't think either of them meant him harm. "I don't think so, sir? The Sorting Hat just said that I would do well in Slytherin and I could be great. But I didn't want to be there."
"Why not?" Snape looked as if he was ready to believe that Harry was the son of James Potter all over again.
Harry coughed. "I had met, well, I met my brother on the train and he made fun of Ron. Ron was the first friend I ever had. So I didn't want to go into Slytherin because I knew I'd have to deal with Draco."
Snape closed his eyes. Harry half-hoped Draco was going to get a scolding later. As far as Harry was concerned, Draco deserved most of the scoldings he got.
"Bet that as it may," Headmaster Dumbledore said, and now he looked tired and old, "I am glad that you do not wish to change Houses, Harry—"
"Henry," Snape said.
"I already talked to you about that, sir." Harry glanced at him, and hoped that he made it a glance instead of a glare. Draco wouldn't let him hear the end of it if he thought Harry was rude to his Head of House.
Even though, most of the time, Snape was rude first.
"It is inappropriate for a professor to be addressing you by a diminutive of your chosen first name." Snape folded his arms and leaned in to glare at the Headmaster, who had put down his own teacup and was watching everything as if it was a play.
"You said that you needed to talk to me, sir?" As far as Harry as concerned, they'd got off-topic. All this about Slytherin House and what name he should have and the rest of it was just rot. Harry turned to face the Headmaster, who, after a moment more of a staring contest with Snape, nodded and turned back to Harry with a smile.
"Yes." Dumbledore's face got really old all of a sudden, and he sighed. "You know that there was a reason Voldemort targeted you."
Snape hissed like he didn't like the name Voldemort. He could put up with it, Harry decided. "Yes, sir. But last year you said that I was too young to know that…"
He trailed off, and this time, Dumbledore filled in the silence. "Well, as it turns out, the reason may no longer apply, as you are not the Potter child all of us believed you to be." For a second, his eyes were bright and searching as they turned on Harry. "I never heard exactly what happened when you went to question Sirius Black in the Ministry."
"Headmaster." Snape sounded furious about something, but Harry didn't think he could guess what.
Harry sighed and said, "Black said that my par—I mean, the Potters couldn't have a child. So he thought he would steal one of Mrs. Malfoy's twins and give them one, so that at least that one could be raised to be a good person. I had the impression that he thought it was a good thing to do, and funny."
"Ah." Dumbledore seemed to age again. "Well, the people you think you know may surprise you at any time…"
"I always knew Black and Potter," Snape muttered, but he had his hands folded in his lap and didn't seem like he would stand up and strangle Harry even if he was furious about something or other.
"Yes, Severus," Headmaster Dumbledore said, in a quelling voice. He studied Harry, and then nodded. "I believe you deserve this knowledge. There was a prophecy that a child born at the end of July would defeat Voldemort."