He had thought about it and decided that he couldn't make a complete decision without more information. With that in mind, after Charms ended the next afternoon he had informed Pansy that he needed to speak with the Headmaster, and had begun the trek to the Headmaster's office.
It was interesting, he thought to himself, that the office had permitted Severus to enter. It had been widely known during his fifth year that Umbridge had been denied access. Most likely, he mused, it was because Dumbledore had still been living when Umbridge wanted the office. With Dumbledore now gone, the office probably didn't care who occupied it so long as it was occupied.
He suppressed a shiver and hurried his steps. Severus was a good Headmaster, despite what many believed. He was a true Slytherin, reining in the Carrows moderately but without drawing attention to himself. As Head Boy, Draco knew more than most, and he knew that Amycus had been mumbling about "Snape this and Snape that" and that both Carrows watched their backs before doing anything too blatantly horrific.
Horrific was definitely word for their methods. Draco sneered, and then straightened his face when he realized he was outwardly sneering. It was disgusting. Even if they had been muggles, to treat other humans the way the Carrows treated the students was barbaric. Humanity was meant to advance with time, not retreat to the way of the caveman where stronger was better.
He reached the gargoyle just as Snape was coming out of it, which itself was lucky since he didn't know the current password. His godfather wasn't as foolishly trusting as Dumbledore had been, and Draco had yet to go up to his office since Snape had taken it over.
"Draco," Severus greeted him politely.
"Headmaster," Draco replied with a slight bow of his head while remaining eye contact. Draco knew Severus was a Legilimens so it was both a show of trust and respect to maintain eye contact when appropriate. By not bowing lower he was showing his own power, but by nodding his head at all he was showing his subservience. It was all a balancing act, Draco reminded himself. Powerful but not too powerful. Respectful but not a servant.
"I was hoping I could have a moment of your time, Sir." Draco asked politely.
Snape looked at Draco, then quickly looked down the hall in the direction he had been going. He sighed.
"I suppose, judging by your simply standing there dumb, that this moment is insufficient?" Snape drawled to Draco, who inwardly smirked. Outwardly, he nodded his head once more.
"A private moment, if you can spare one Sir."
Snape let out a long suffering sigh and rubbed his temple with his hand. "Fine. Go up the stairs. Sit and do nothing else. No exploring, no peeking, no poking or prodding or even breathing on anything up there. I will deal with Filch and be back within minutes. Do NOT make me regret giving you this luxury, Draco." Snape's look bored holes into Draco's head, and if Draco had not been passing acceptable at Occlumency he might have though his godfather was reading his mind at that moment.
"No Sir. Thank you, Sir." And with another head bob, Draco quickly stepped up the stairs.
After 10 minutes, Draco was starting to wonder if Severus had forgotten about him. He had only seen the office once when Dumbledore occupied it, in Third year when that bloody hippogriff had mauled his arm and his father had dragged him up here to throw a ruckus about it even though Madam Pomfrey had insisted he stay in bed until his blood was replenished. Dumbledore had had doodads and gizmos covering every surface, but Snape left most of the room blank. The portraits were all still there, pretending to be asleep. Draco had only glanced at Dumbledore's portrait before averting his gaze quickly.
At the moment his curiosity was caught by the one item on the shelves that was not a book. The Sorting Hat sat slouched on a tall shelf, though not too tall for Draco to reach, not that he was thinking of such a thing. He had been wondering, since he saw Loony Lovegood the day before, what the Sorting Hat decided exactly to place people in each house. He was sure that Lovegood did not think that "wit beyond measure was man's greatest treasure" - after all, she was friends with a bunch of Lions and believed in made-up stories. An academic she clearly was not. And what about that oaf Longbottom? Any other year he would have said there was no way that boy was a Gryffindor, and yet this year he had taken a hit and come back swinging. Hiding in the Room of Requirement and organizing a resistance took serious guts and not a lot of brains. In his place, not that he ever would let himself be put in such a situation, but in his place Draco would have been out of the castle in seconds flat. He was a Slytherin through and through.
So how did the Hat know to put Longbottom in Gryffindor? As a chubby 11-year-old he wasn't brave. Did it choose based on some type of foresight? Or maybe, it just chose based on where you wanted to go and that was that. He had heard rumors of sortings that were full conversations. In his case the Hat had barely landed on his head before yelling "SLYTHERIN".
It was clear that Helga Hufflepuff hadn't designed the hat, or if would have sorted everyone into the house where they'd be the happiest. He pondered for a moment if he could have been happier in any other house, perhaps Ravenclaw, before pushing that idea aside. That wasn't what the hat had done, or Lovegood wouldn't have been in Ravenclaw. She was clearly miserable when interacting with her housemates, and they treated her like trash. Perhaps it sorted where it thought a person would be most successful - Longbottom was clearly thriving in Gryffindor, at least on a personal level. But then that brought up the idea of whether success was quantifiable. He grimaced, thinking of how it was a tenet of Slytherin philosophy, and put it aside as not something Gryffindor would have valued enough to enchant it into his Sorting Hat.
Draco had hardly realized that he had risen from his seat and was standing in front of the Hat. It had to have been at least 15 minutes since Severus had left, and he could be back any moment. But it's not as if Draco were touching an ancient Dark Arts book - and he'd seen some on the shelves - but just the dumb Sorting Hat. He could easily spin some yarn about something sentimental if Severus returned. He would see right through it, but likely wouldn't punish him.
Without further thought Draco picked up the hat and placed it upon his head quickly. Before it could say anything to him, he asked it How do you work?.
Magic, it replied cheekily. He could sense the amusement in the hat, though he wasn't sure how. He scowled.
No, I mean to say, what is your criteria for choosing houses for children? Do you want them to be successful, or happy, or fit in, or what? Draco was annoyed with himself for how inarticulate he sounded in his own head, but he didn't know quite how to phrase his question.
Ah, replied the Hat. I think I know what you want to see.
Draco suddenly had the feeling that he was very small and sitting on a stool. He knew somewhere that he was standing up, but he could feel his feet not quite reaching the floor and feel his hands gripped tightly on the side of the chair. He jerked in surprise when he heard a girl's voice within his own head.
Why, hello Sir, she said politely. He almost responded but the Hat thankfully beat him to it.
Hello Miss Lovegood. What have we here? Smart, yes. Brave, very much so, and I'm afraid you'll need to be. Kind… isn't kindness a strange thing, my dear? This was a sorting - Luna Lovegood's sorting. Draco felt oddly guilty all of a sudden for intruding on what was a deeply personal moment, but he made no attempts to escape the illusion.
Kindness is very important, Mr. Hat. But I am ashamed to say that I find some things more important.
The hat was smiling slightly, though how Draco knew it he had no idea.
Yes, my dear? Like what?
My Daddy tells me that the truth is more important that kindness, Mr. Hat. Sometimes we want to be kind but it would be kinder in the long run to tell the truth. That must always come first.
Very well, my dear. In that case it better be RAVENCLAW.
Draco felt himself fall back into his body and he caught his balance. He quickly took the hat off and rushed back to his seat. He would process that information later. For now was to wait for Snape, ignore the portraits eyeing him, and ask what, potentially, would happen to Longbottom and his gang if he were to be found. Draco had yet to decide whether to victoriously turn them in or use them for his own purposes, and dangling the question in front of Snape would make him suspicious but not unduly so. And now Draco had a whole new question to ponder - Luna Lovegood.