I stalk towards the horrid statue that guards Dumbledore’s office. I sneer the password to it and roll my eyes at the stupidity of the password. Acid pops, honestly, who would ever make his password ‘acid pops’? I then walk up the staircase, but stop at the top when I hear quiet talking in the office. Unfortunately, my hearing being like a bat picks up every word. Dumbledore is talking to someone about Harry’s living environment.

He wants me to do WHAT? There is no way I…Harry needs guidance and discipline. I surely cannot give him that. For one, my temper will hinder anything that I do. For two, whenever I look at him, I feel my need of revenge against his father and guilt for his mother. Either way, you look at it. A definite deadly combination is sadly going to follow.

Then again, there is that main blasted reason I would be the worst choice to be his mentor. I have a black stain on my soul, one that is both literal and figurative. Honestly, he already thinks of me as being in league with the Dark Lord. If he ever learns the truth, I will never be able to protect him properly. Though, I nearly failed last year and he doesn’t know. The boy needs a bloody collar. I then sigh again.

The door opens then and I step out of the way. The man glances at me, but walks past me without saying a word. I walk into the office and nod towards Dumbledore. He is wearing the same pensive expression as earlier. Then again, if I have been scheming as much as he has only to learn of this…interesting development, I too would be looking like that.

Slytherins are schemers by definition, which is odd that Dumbledore, a known Gryffindor, would be such a schemer. However, the man is a master manipulator. After all, he easily manipulated me into protecting the son of my childhood bully. Of course, I had been suffering from massive guilt since it was I who relayed that prophecy and he used that to his advantage just like a perfect Slytherin.

Perhaps the Sorting Hat was mistaken to sort him in Gryffindor. Then again, the old coot keeps thinking that I should be in Gryffindor. While the idea is horrifying, it would have made certain things easier in the past. No…I cannot go down that path. I sigh heavily. However, it is going down that path that made me like this in the first place.

Slytherin is a noble house. We receive a bad reputation, however, by the other houses because of one bad apple. Granted, I played right into the stereotype with my being a former Death Eater, but not all Slytherins chose the darkness. I sigh again as a name floods my mind. Yes, you immediately chose the Order, didn’t you, Sinistra? Darkness always drew you in, but you always pushed it away as if you knew. My eyes then roll at my next thought. The stars perhaps told you, didn’t they? And the students call me a bat. Perhaps they should look at the two witches in their towers.

Dumbledore calmly interrupts my thoughts with a soft speech of how I am not to be so lax in my duties anymore. It is not as if I have wanted Harry to speak perfect Parseltongue to me in front of the entire student body. I have been quite content with him being the good little Gryffindor he has been. Granted, sometimes I wish the horrid child stops breaking every rule in the book, but he gets that from his father. I cannot blame him for that. Just as I cannot blame a Weasley for being a Weasley, no matter how bad I wish I could.

I do not reply to Dumbledore as he continues his lecture. After all, what is there left for me to say? I then glance towards the fireplace. It is my favorite diversionary tactic because I know how much annoys him. Granted, we both know that I am listening from years of experience, but I give him half the attention he deserves. Perhaps it is disrespectful. However, years with my father have taught me this tactic, and it always works.

Dumbledore then finishes his soliloquy. Finally, I am able to say the one thing that has been on my mind ever since the first hiss from Harry’s lips. I draw in a deep breath before I speak. As I speak, he peers over his half-moon spectacles at me. The twinkling blue eyes make another appearance.

You mock me? I hiss in my mind. I respond to you, and you mock me? You just said the boy needs someone there for him. I cannot give that, but I can teach him the ways of defense. I am rather skilled in that regards. I also, unfortunately, have intimate knowledge of the Dark Lord. Harry needs that information. We both know this, Dumbledore. I will not be his mentor in the regards that I listen to the utter drivel of his horrid teenage life, but I will show him how to protect himself. After all, I have tied myself to his life. It is in my best interest to do so.

The only words I speak, though, are that I cannot do as he asks. I cannot be Harry’s friend or person he counts on emotionally. I barely do it on my own. The twinkling blue eyes quickly disappear and the cold ice eyes stare at me. I immediately feel as if I am a second-year again. Unfortunately, I have spent a lot of time in this office. So with that look from him now I am back there. Some of it has been for official Order business, while most have been due to my frequent run-ins with the Marauders back in my schooldays. Only twice have I ever felt afraid in this place. Both times have been in Dumbledore’s foreboding presence. Now again I feel this way. However, unlike my school years I know how to react responsibly now, though. Case in point, I turn around and walk out of the office. My parting words before the door shuts are “You may have won with him being sorted into Gryffindor, but I know. I know that Harry’s true house is Slytherin.” My eyes then level on him. “My house,” I say as the door shuts.