"Why was the boy sorted into Slytherin?"
"Whatever boy are you talking about Severus?"
He rolls his eyes impatiently. "You know very well which boy I'm talking about, Headmaster."
Dumbledore puts down the paper he was reading and peers at the younger man from behind his half-moon spectacles.
"Yes, that was disingenuous of me." He sighs. "I imagine Harry was sorted into Slytherin because that was where the Hat thought he would do best." He sweeps his hand to the chair in front of him.
Snape sits down heavily. "Lily was sorted into Gryffindor." A beat. Her name hangs in the air like a ghost. He clears his throat. "So was Potter. All the Potters were Gryffindors." He feels the fact that he has obsessively checked school records on the matter best remains unspoken.
"Indeed they were." Dumbledore's eyes twinkle as if he knew anyway. "It's rare for children to be sorted into different houses than their families, but it's not unheard of. Sirius Black comes to mind."
Dark eyes flash dangerously. "Sirius Black," he enunciates carefully, unused to the way the words feel in his mouth. He fights the urge to spit. "Did you think I had forgotten about him?"
"I apologize, Severus. It was glib of me to mention him like that." He rummages around his desk and offered a sherbet lemon as a conciliatory gesture. "I would have thought that you'd be glad to have Harry in Slytherin house."
"Glad?" He waves the candies away.
Dumbledore shrugs his shoulders by way of reply.
"What would you have me do with the boy?"
"The same thing you do with any first-year who is sorted into your house."
Snape rises from his chair and walks toward a cabinet."He looks like his father."
"As sons often do." He studies Snape's face carefully. "Surely you will not hold that against him?"
Snape looks away. "I can make no promises."
Dumbledore stands and pours two glasses of firewhiskey.
"Hagrid says that the boy is bright, unassuming, and eager to learn." He hands a glass to Snape.
Snape downs the whiskey in one gulp. He grimaces. "Hagrid named a giant three-headed dog Fluffy."
Dumbledore snorts in amusement. "Did he? I didn't know that."
"He told me over dessert."
Dumbledore takes a sip and put the glass down. "You are determined to think the worst of the boy."
Dark eyes meet blue ones. "Perhaps I am. And why not? I've found that it's the best way to avoid disappointment." The words sound more bitter than he meant them to be.
Dumbledore holds his gaze for a while before Snape finally looks away. "I hope you give him a chance to prove you wrong, Severus."