What our parents believed

To Paege, for kicking my ass and making me write. To Belmont-Bellamy, who is so good at sharing ideas and has long entertained me with her wonderful stories. Also, to anyone who still tunes in after my long break between updates.

Disclaimer: If I owned the Harry Potter universe, I would own Severus Snape's voice, and that would make me so happy! As it turns out, I own nothing, and am sad. Woe.

As Dumbledore entered his office, he took a moment to pause in order to enjoy the small, clicking, humming or whistling noises of the various contraptions. They were calming and welcoming to him. As with the end of every sorting ceremony, it was his own special tradition to take the Sorting Hat to his office by himself. It offered the headmaster the opportunity to talk to the hat and gain some valuable knowledge about the new students. This evening, he was hoping for a bit of enlightenment from his centuries-old friend.

"Time to put you away for another year, my friend. Though I always feel rather badly about doing so. It's too bad that you cannot be involved in some other way, I think."

"Habit, Dumbledore, habit," the hat replied in a rasping voice. "Like you, I'm not getting any younger. And Sorting really is a trying task sometimes. Especially," it added meaningfully, "this year. Some very interesting new arrivals this year."

The headmaster decided to try playing the fool to entice the hat to explain its comment. "Notice anything more interesting than usual this year?" he asked innocently as he placed the hat on a shelf.

"Humph." The hat eyed Dumbledore, letting him know that it wasn't that easily fooled. "Alright," it relented. "I truly am worried about that young Muggle girl that was brought here. Miss Michaels."

"I trust that you are aware of her unfortunate past." Dumbledore sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"A bit of warning would have been nice. I'm getting too old for such shocks." The hat rearranged itself on the shelf.

"I couldn't do that," the old man admitted. "I couldn't risk telling you in advance and possibly affecting your sorting duties. No, in order for things to work for her in this place, she must be treated as normally as possible."

"Hmmm," the hat replied. "I heard rumours that a student was brought to Hogwarts before the others." Dumbledore sighed. "That was Miss Michaels, wasn't it?" The headmaster nodded. "So much for treating her 'as normally as possible'," the hat said smugly.

"She needed to adjust to this place and to finally understand that she belongs here, not in some Muggle asylum for… those of questionable sanity." Dumbledore stood to make himself some tea. "I never did approve of those places anyways. I can never understand society's tendency to lock away the people who are most in need of help. Besides," he added, "if any Muggle observed me for long enough, they may be tempted to put me in one of those places." The hat chuckled and declined to comment.

"But you must worry about her," the hat prodded gently. "Dumbledore, you realize that she still thinks she's insane. And it's no wonder, after what she's been through. And now, bringing her here causes her to question her sanity every day. Now, though I'm old and of very limited use…,"

"As am I," Dumbledore interjected calmly.

"… I still feel compelled to say that this isn't the best idea. That girl needs stability, not the constant shocks that accompany life as a witch or wizard."

The headmaster shook his head. "That girl needed to be attended to years ago. That girl's parents needed to be made to understand that there was nothing wrong with their daughter at all. That girl fell through the cracks and has suffered horribly because of it. And she deserves a chance to live the life that she was meant to have.

Dumbledore was settled comfortably on one of the many squashy chairs that furnished his room and was about to have his first sip of tea when a sharp, curt knock sounded on his door. His soft voice carried clearly through the room as he called for the person to enter. After a moment, the tall, lean form of Professor Snape entered the room.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said amiably, motioning to a chair across from him. "I was expecting you to drop by. Please, have a seat, have some tea." The potions master made his way across the room and sat down awkwardly on a chair. In all of his years of working with the headmaster, Severus Snape had never gotten used to those damned chairs. The older wizard poured a cup of tea for his visitor. The potions master took one sip and grimaced slightly. "Oh, Earl Grey. I shall, of course, make some orange pekoe for you."

"Don't worry, I don't plan on staying here long," Snape replied. "I just wanted a couple of questions answered."

Dumbledore sighed. "I think I can guess the nature of those questions. And they may take a while in answering." He flicked his wand and produced a second pot of tea. "Since you are here, have a drink. Please. I'd hate to be thought of as an inhospitable host." The younger wizard leaned over with a small smile and poured himself a cup of tea.

"I assure you, it would remain strictly between us." He took a sip of tea and tried to find a comfortable position in his squishy chair.

"And now, your question, Severus," Dumbledore prodded gently. Snape sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Why was that child placed in Slytherin?" he asked wearily. "You truly hate me, don't you?"

"First of all, I hate no one, and could never imagine hating you. Secondly, many children were placed in Slytherin today. Please be more specific."

"You know I am referring to Miss Michaels," Snape accused, narrowing her eyes. "She is a pure Muggle who knows nothing about our ways. Furthermore, her mental and emotional stability are, at best, questionable. And yet, she has been placed in Slytherin. Of all the houses…"

Dumbledore calmly raised a hand. "Are you more worried about being responsible for her or of how she may be received by her housemates?" The other man paused and reflected.

"Both," he admitted at length. "I'm not too worried about her getting into trouble, but…. How to put this?" He sighed and sipped his tea. "I know you expect the heads of houses to provide guidance and support to students, and you know that I've never been any good in that regard. Most Slytherins are very self-sufficient, but Miss Michaels' needs may prove to be too much for me. And we're both aware that Slytherins do not tolerate weaknesses in others, we take advantage of them. Putting Miss Michaels in Slytherin is akin to stupefying a rabbit and throwing it into a fox den. I don't see how this could be the best choice for her. If word of her past ever got out…"

"I have no intentions of letting Miss Michaels' situation be known by more than four people. Myself, Professor McGonagall, yourself and Miss Michaels." The hat shifted on its shelf and huffed. "And, you, of course, my old friend. Forgive me; my old mind does slip sometimes."

"I know that professors would never tell anyone of this," Severus replied. The hat shot a doubtful glance at him. "Do you honestly think me to be that cruel?"

"Though your treatment of certain students is… questionable, I know you can be utterly trusted with our students' personal secrets. I have no doubt that you will exercise extreme discretion in this situation." Dumbledore levelled a look at Severus. "But, she may feel the need, in the future, to confide with some of her classmates. I am actually hopping that she will be able to cultivate trusting relationships with other students. If she is inclined to talk to someone about her past, it may get out. What better house to be in than Slytherin if the school were to discover Miss Michaels' secret?"

Snape sat silently, pretending not to understand the hidden meaning of that revelation. If it were discovered that Miss Michaels had been in a mental institution, and were she assigned to any other house, his Slytherins would have mocked her relentlessly. Being a housemate may offer the unfortunate child some small degree of protection from her would-be tormenters.

"She is a Muggle," he pointed out. "Salathizar Slytherin was obsessed with purity of blood. Why place a Muggle in the house he founded?" Dumbledore levelled him with a meaningful look.

"It is not unheard of, Severus. Unusual, but both mixed-blood students and Muggle-born students have gone through Slytherin's house. Family history doesn't make a difference in the Sorting process," he said softly. The potions master remained silent. The headmaster was correct on the first point, but on the second…. Blood didn't matter to the hat, but it did to students and, sometimes, to teachers. Snape personally didn't care about having a Muggle-born child in his house aside from the fact that it would likely cause friction between the students, and likely cause him problems.

"I didn't mean to imply that she didn't belong in my house simply because she is Muggle-born," he stated diplomatically. "I merely do not understand why. What makes her a Slytherin? I simply don't see it in her."

"Humph." Both wizards turned to the hat, resting forgotten on the shelf. "Not much point in asking Dumbledore these things when the decision came from me, now is there, young man?" Snape leaned back and glared at the hat. "I'm the only one who had anything to do with this decision. And believe me; I didn't place Miss Michaels in Slytherin in the hopes of sparing her from being taunted by them. Of everything that I've seen in her mind, I truly feel that she would do best in your house."

"She should be Slytherin because she thinks she is insane? I'm insulted."

The hat snorted. "Leave it to you to jump to the wrong conclusion, Severus. I still remember the day I was placed on your head…"

"Oh, don't start that," Snape complained with a wave of his hand. "Don't bring me into this. Don't say you've placed Miss Michaels into my house because she reminds you of me as a student."

"Nothing of the sort. She's a pleasant child when she wants to be, whereas you..." Dumbledore cleared his throat, signalling that the hat should not finish this thought.

"Truth be told, she wasn't that hard to place," the hat continued. "Above all, the girl is cunning. She can read people rather easily and take advantage of what she finds." Severus snorted in derision. "No, I don't mean that in a bad way. Not to hurt people. She's a master at showing people what they want. That skill can go either way. And she has a great potential for learning. She has a quick mind and knows how to put knowledge to her advantage. For this reason, I feel that Slytherin would be a good home for her."

Snape remained silent, leaning back into the chair in deep thought. Black eyes flitted back and forth, processing information. Albus made himself comfortable and helped himself to more tea. Past experience had taught him that no one could push Severus to accept this was the best choice. Once informed, Severus would discover that on his own, Dumbledore was sure of that. After a time, the potions master sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do this alone, Headmaster. You know that. Due to Miss Michaels', er, unconventional past, she could potentially have enormous emotional and social needs, which I cannot fulfill. And if things do happen to go badly for her in Slytherin…"

"You will not be alone in this, Severus," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "You realize that all teachers here will have a responsibility towards Miss Michaels, myself included. You have, however, managed to establish a relationship of sorts with the girl."

Severus snorted. "I retrieved the child at your insistent request, scared her senseless and spoke to her a bit before the start of term feast. I would hardly call that a 'relationship'."

The older wizard nodded. "True. But it is more than anyone else has managed thus far." The potions master sat silently for a moment. With nothing more to say for the moment, Snape drained his cup of tea and stood to leave.

"Well, I do still have several hundred other students to teach," he stated, "and last minute details to go over for the first week of classes. I guess, for now, I shall just see how things go and address problems as they arise."

"Don't you mean if they arise, or are you anticipating trouble?" Dumbledore asked innocently. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Ever the optimist," he shot over his shoulder. He then paused before the door and turned to face the headmaster. "Are you certain we made the right decision? Bringing her, I mean? Do you think it can help undo some of the damage that was done?" The hat rustled on the shelf. Dumbledore sighed.

"I asked the exact same questions," the hat interjected. Snape narrowed his eyes.

"And the answers are…?"

Albus took his time clearing away the remnants of their tea. "I cannot give you yes or no answers to any of those questions. I would not have brought Miss Michaels here if I had thought that she did not stand a chance at succeeding. I am certain that, if she adapts well, Hogwarts would be a better environment for her than the one she left. I strongly feel that she should have been made aware of what she is long ago in order to prevent much of the harm that was done. I know that we have a responsibility to her to try and make up for what has happened to her. I believe that she can do well here, but will need our help and time to adjust."

The potions master's eyes drifted away from Dumbledore's face as Snape gazed vaguely into space. For the first time in his life, he was worried about dealing with a student. This Michaels child presented an unprecedented challenge, one that Severus wasn't sure he wanted to face. He was sure that the astute headmaster had already guessed the real reason for Snape's objection to having the girl in his house. I don't want to risk damaging her any more than she already is.

Quite often, at the start of the day, while night slowly vanished, conceding a grudging, temporary defeat to the dawn, Sara Michaels would lie in her bed and stubbornly refuse to open her eyes. Where she found herself now, there was no slow ebb and flow of night and day as, this morning, harsh lights had been made to flood her room. The child hated it, she had always enjoyed the quite moments between sleep and complete wakefulness, when her conscious mind could still cling to and treasure the evaporating wisps of blissful dreams.

This morning was particularly bitter, as the dream had been so… magical… was the only word to describe it. Finally, a place where she belonged…

"I don't know how she's still sleeping," a young girl whispered. "I could barely sleep last night, I was so very nervous about classes this morning."

Classes? Sara dared to open her eyes slightly and took in her surroundings. The bed on which she lay was much larger than what she was used to, the blankets which she clutched with her tiny fingers were soft and warm, coloured deep green with silver designs. Her head lay amidst a jumble of large green and black pillows. Thick green curtains surrounded her bed, blocking out the worst of the light. Through a crack in the hangings, she peered out at two girls who stood whispering. They were wearing long, black robes and green ties with silver stripes. The girl who had spoken sensed Sara's gaze, her hazel eyes fixing on Sara's deep brown ones. They both flushed and quickly looked away.

Sara flopped down on her pillow, a huge grin on her face, her chest bursting with an indescribable sense of elation and satisfaction. "It's true," she whispered breathlessly to the ceiling. "It wasn't a dream, not this time." Struggling to hold back tears of joy, Sara leapt out of bed with more enthusiasm than she ever had before, lifted her new robes out of her packing trunk and started to prepare herself for the day ahead.

"Hi," a shy voice said as Sara parted the curtains surrounding her bed. She looked up to see a young, red haired witch sitting on the neighbouring bed, her pale face slightly flushed. Glancing around quickly, she noticed that they were alone in the room; the pale witch was undoubtedly speaking to her. Her expression slightly guarded, Sara cautiously returned the greeting.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to sound like I was talking about you behind your back," the stranger blurted swiftly. It was hard for Sara to make out what had been said. "It's just… it's just… well, I'm so nervous, I barely slept at all last night, in fact, none of the other girls slept much either, and I just couldn't believe that you're feeling so calm!" she rambled on, a hint of admiration in her voice.

Out of habit, Sara weighed her words cautiously before speaking. How much should she tell this strange girl? She couldn't possibly reveal that much of what had seemed extraordinary to the first years, she had already seen on numerous occasions. And yet, Sara didn't care to lie… she was a horrible liar, anyways. "I guess the reality of it all still hasn't sunk in yet," she said slowly. "I mean, didn't you wake up and wonder if this was a dream, or something?"

"Oh, no," said the young witch breathlessly. "I've been waiting for this for years, I knew a bit of what to expect. I mean, my older sister and cousins all went to Hogwarts and told me a bit about it… though hearing about it is nothing like seeing it for your own eyes, is it? And I also heard things from Mum and Dad, aunts and uncles… why, even great-granny Marthid would speak fondly of Hogwarts. Though, half of the time, she still thought she was still back at Hogwarts… her mind kinda started going funny as she got older.

I'm an idiot! Sara berated herself. Whole family in Hogwarts, this girl must have been a pure-blooded wizard like the ones I'd read about in my books. Sara had all but gone and admitted that she was a Muggle-born who knew nothing about magic, and who knew what her house-mates would think once they found out? Only the first official day of school and Sara felt that, as a Muggle-born Slytherin, she would end up having no friends at Hogwarts.

"Yeah, well, what I saw yesterday wasn't exactly new to me either," she replied blithely. It was true, the ceiling of the Great Hall, ghosts and moving stairs had certainly not been true to her yesterday. The week before yesterday, however…

"I'm Paege, by the way," the young girl said, holding out her tiny hand. "Paege Bellamy."

"Sara Michaels." The children shook hands briefly.

"Funny, that," Paege mentioned with a frown. "My dad talks about wizarding lines a lot, but he's never mentioned any British wizarding families with the surname Michaels." Sara froze for an instant before forcing her face into the same cheerfully blank mask she often wore when she had been in the hospital.

"Don't worry," said Paege. "I know that Slytherins have a bad reputation when it comes to accepting Muggle-borns. I, personally, don't care about all of that, but I know some people here will. You won't be able to fake being a pure-blooded wizard, so it'll be best to just admit the truth and ignore anyone who decides to hold to that silly purity of blood stuff."

The young witch seemed to have a kindly way about her, her speech about not holding to 'purity of blood', as she called it, seemed very nice, but Sara wasn't quite ready to trust anyone just yet. Still, Paege seemed, at least, to be a kindred spirit of sorts, and could perhaps be a friend. Sara allowed herself a small smile.

"Do you reckon we should go down for breakfast? Only, I don't know if I can eat," Paege admitted.

"Me neither, I'm much too excited… and nervous, actually. I don't know if I'll be any good at magic." Paege frowned at this.

"No one really knows until they've tried. I didn't show a lot of magic either, before coming here. I hear that students from wizarding families really don't have an enormous advantage over Muggle-borns. We're all kind of on the same page."

Tilting her head, Sara said lightly, "Well, if we're rubbish, we'll just have to help each other out, right?" Paege smiled softly and nodded. "We should at least go down to get our timetables. What class do you reckon we'll have first?"

"Hopefully not History of Magic, that's supposed to be boring…" And the two girls headed out of their dormitory, still discussing what wonders their first day may possibly have in store.

Author's Note: Happy now, guys:p