As Harry waited, trying to fight the urge to fidget, he glanced around at the myriad of trinkets around Dumbledore's office, his eyes eventually rising up to the mantle above the fireplace. The sorting hat was there looking lifeless next to a canister of what Harry could only assume was floo powder, and a small blue orb sitting on a white cloth. At the sight of the hat, he wondered suddenly if the thing had placed him in the right house after all. It had tried to put him into Slytherin last year, hadn't it? Maybe he should have listened and let it put him there. It might have made things easier now.

Stepping closer without realizing it, Harry continued to stare up at it in the silence, and was surprised when it suddenly sprang to life and narrowed the rips that served as eyes at him.

"Was there something you wanted to know Gryffindor?"

He shook his head. No, maybe he didn't want to know if he really belonged in Slytherin. It might have helped, but it could also have made things worse. He hated to think about what would have happened if he'd been under the iron rule of Snape for all this time.

"No? You just wanted to stand there and stare at me?"

"Yes," Harry said, and then changed his mind. "I mean no."

"Yes or no child, make up your mind."

"Yes, I wanted to know, and no, I didn't want to just stare at you. Sorry."

"There is no need to apologize to me. I'm not alive after all."

"Why did you want to put me into Slytherin, really?"

"I would have thought, with your most recent discovery, that it would be obvious."

"So..." Harry paused. "You knew?"

"I have sorted every student that has been through this school since its foundations were laid Gryffindor. I am as old as the stone you stand on. I hear the thoughts; feel the desires and intents of every student that walks these corridors. I knew the moment I touched your head that you desired a family. Not so unlike another boy who I once placed in Slytherin."

"But... you knew that he's..."

"Your father? I knew he loved your mother. I knew he was fond of her when I first sorted him. He hated me for separating them. Like you, he was often in trouble for bending or severely breaking the rules, and often found himself standing where you are now. He placed me on his head several more times before he left this place, and I knew his love for your mother then as well."

"What about my father? I- I mean James Potter. Did he love my mother?"

"Very much, but it was a different kind of love. The kind bourn from a need to be the best, to have the best. He desired her, loved her for being there for him, but it was not a love of need. Not like your father's."

"I don't understand."

"No young Gryffindor, I do not expect that you do. You are young still, and that understanding will come with time. What I can tell you is this: When someone needs someone else; when they so desperately tie the very essence of their existence to being around another person, that is a strong love... much I daresay, the same type of love a mother has for her son. Enough to know that without her son, life is not worth living, so it was better to sacrifice herself for you."

Harry grumbled then and the hat said sharply, "Speak up! I don't actually have ears you know!"

"If he loved her that much he should be dead then instead of James."

"Unfortunately Gryffindor, things do not always work out the way one plans, and there are more ways to die than in death itself."

Harry stared at the hat in awe. No one had ever talked to him like this... like he was old enough to understand, despite the fact that he really didn't. He liked being respected... treated like he was smart.

"Yes?" The hat asked, and Harry frowned.

"I didn't say anything."

"No, but you wanted to put me on."

"Did not," Harry protested with a frown on his face, but at a stern look from the hat, his face softened a little as he gave in. "Ok, maybe just a little."

"You have my permission to do so, but I cannot guarantee you will like the results of trying me on for a second time."

"What harm can it do? My- well, Professor Snape tried you on more than once."

"Yes, and he was always angry with me in the end."

He bit his lip. "Well you won't hurt me, will you?"

"I am the only one who I can say for sure, will not."

Harry reached up tentatively, pulled his hand back, and then reached forward again, taking the hat gently off the mantle.

"Be sure before you place me on your head Gryffindor."

"I- I am," he said. He didn't know what would happen when he put the hat on, but he wanted to know. Snape had done it. Maybe it would help him gain some insight into this man that was supposed to be his father. This man who hated and despised him. He set it on his head, and like it had done last year, it fell right down over his eyes.

"You still desire a family," it said in his ear, and Harry remained silent.

"You desire to know more about the family you have."

"He's not my family," Harry said, feeling defeated. After all these years wishing to have someone to care for and love him, and the only person available was Snape, a person incapable of love, no matter what the hat claimed about him and Lily.

"You desire to know Professor Snape."

Harry didn't protest, and the hat said, "I have made my decision Harry Potter. Take me off your head."

He did as he was told and set the hat back on the mantle, facing him. "Go and do as you desire."

Eyebrow raised, Harry was just about to ask what the hat meant when a door to his left opened, and the Headmaster walked in.

"Ah, Harry my boy. There you are."

"Here I am," he agreed, not being too happy about the confusing conversation with the Sorting Hat.

"I understand there was some trouble in Herbology this morning?"

Harry shrugged. He would have liked to have said that it wouldn't happen again, but he'd never figured himself a spaz in the first place, and hadn't counted on it happening the first time. He was sure Draco was spreading the news around the school about his little ‘freak out'.

"Are you feeling better now?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry, hands in his pockets, shrugged again.

"I guess."

"Good, good. I'll give you a note so you won't lose points being late for your next class. Charms is it?"

"Yes sir," Harry said, incredulous at the fact that the man didn't even want to ask him what the incident had been about.

Dumbledore waved his wand and a note appeared on parchment with his signature. "Have a good rest of the day then Harry, and please give Professor Flitwick my regards."

Harry took the note. "Ok," he said, and turned towards the door, still confused at what had happened in the last hour.

In the corridor, Harry noted that the parchment was blank except for the signature, and hoped Professor Flitwick wouldn't give him a hard time about it. Sometimes he thought Dumbledore was a little absent-minded over things like this. When he entered Charms a few minutes later however and gave Flitwick the note, he seemed satisfied, and Harry took his seat next to Ron and Hermione, feeling embarrassed that the rest of the Gryffindors had seen him melt down. At least he hadn't cried, and he'd only broken two of Professor Sprout's new pots.

"Alright, yeah?" Ron asked, and Harry nodded.

"Fine."

"Did you get detention?"

"No."

"What happened then?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

They turned back towards Flitwick as he started lecturing again, and Harry was content to let the morning's incident melt away as he became absorbed in the lesson. He couldn't know how wrong he was though, when he'd told his best friend that nothing had happened. The Sorting Hat had special things in mind for Harry Potter.