There is only one other person in this castle who argues with me more than Sinistra. Unfortunately, that would be a head of a rival house. I then sigh softly as I say Minerva McGonagall. There isn’t scorn in my voice. We don’t necessarily really dislike each other. However, just as I have my role to play with Harry, I play one with Minerva for the good of Hogwarts. It breeds competition for the both of us. If they knew, if anyone knew the truth, it would be dangerous for all of us at Hogwarts. After all, the Dark Lord had managed to breach the castle’s defenses last year somehow. Who is to say that he won’t try something again this year?

The truth is that since I started to work here, Minerva and I have had a close relationship. While it is sometimes very frustrating for her to treat me as if I am her son, I will admit there is a part of me that craves that attention. She is still strict with me, of course. In fact, there is numerous times where we argue over my treatment of her little Lions. She believes that I am being too harsh on them. If she believes that, then she should see how I treat the Hufflepuffs. However, we always walk away with the argument settled. Unfortunately, she wins most of the time, but only because I feel a tad bit uncomfortable arguing with a woman who has nursed me back to health so many times. In addition, the woman acts as if she is my mother outside of school. Arguing with your mother or maternal-like witch is not in anyone’s favor. Trust me. I know. I have the curse marks on my shoulder blade to prove it.

I sigh heavily as I walk up to the portrait of Godric Gryffindor who guards Minerva’s quarters. The Founder glances at me, but says nothing. I announce my reason for being there, and the door opens a few seconds later. I quietly walk in and sigh. Nothing like walking into the lioness’s den, I think.

I spot Minerva sitting in her crimson and gold colored recliner. Her eyes are watching me as if trying to figure out my mood. Yes, do try to figure out my mood, Minerva. You will lose. I hold back my anxiousness and slight annoyance. She softly bows her head towards me in acknowledgment.

Minerva asks me why I am there. I simply state back to her Harry’s name. Her green eyes instantly widen in surprise. I then further explain what I have learned over the past few days. For example, how Harry spoke perfect Parseltongue in the Great Hall. She has already heard this once, but I tell her again. She needs to understand. I then notice her green eyes quickly dart away. I know that look in her eyes. She has worn it around me for the past twelve years. She is ashamed of him displaying that rare talent of his in front of the entire student body and scared for him having it. Yes, most witches and wizards automatically conclude that if a wizard speaks Parseltongue, then he is evil. It is not always the case, though. Salazar Slytherin was not evil, and he had the same rare ability that he passed on.

However, there are those in the Wizarding World who would argue with me on the point of whether Slytherin was evil or not. Granted, choosing which students are worthy to be in Slytherin based on their blood purity may be evil, but it is for good reason. Half bloods such as me are not nearly strong enough magically speaking as purebloods. We have a certain frailty in us from our horrid Muggle side. If I had known how it was possible, I would complete the ancient ritual to purify my blood and finally rid myself of my bastard father’s blood that flows through my veins at once.

Minerva calmly tells me that she is aware of the situation. You are aware. Hmm…I should be oh so grateful that you are aware, Minerva, I sneer in my mind. Perhaps I should conjure you an award for that statement. I then inhale and slowly shake my head. She replies quietly to me that I should not act as if I was a child, but act like the man I am. The man I am, I reply in my thoughts. And just what man do you believe me to be, Minerva? I am not any different than I was this morning.

I calmly state to Minerva that Harry belongs in my house. She does not listen, though, which I have expected. He is her bright shining star in the sea of black holes. However, I lay out my argument logically to her. Logic has never failed me before when I have been in similar situations. Granted, in those cases, I need not to have argued with the maternal figure in my life before, but I know that I am ready for nearly every single anticipated rebuttal from her. That is why when she calmly replies with a simple ‘of course, he is yours,’ the air quickly flees my lungs. I stare at her for what seems to be hours, but is truthfully merely seconds. She then softly tells me that she is going to complete the necessary paperwork and speak with Albus so that Harry is resorted into my house. I, in a drunken-like state, turn around and stumble back out of Minerva’s quarters. The serpent is returning to his rightful house. For a split second, my lips curl upwards without my knowing of it. Welcome home, Harry, I think.