Professor Snape sat wearily at the head table, shadows encircling his onyx eyes. He had only just returned from his trial at the Ministry of Magic earlier that afternoon, being cleared of all charges against him just in time to begin the teaching year at Hogwarts. It had been a ridiculously long, arduous summer. After he had recovered from the final battle at Hogwarts, where he had nearly died from Nagini's bite, he was taken custody by Ministry aurors and his investigation began. It took months of intense interrogation, countless courtroom visits, and the testimony of many eye-witnesses, including Harry Potter himself, to convince the Wizengamot that Snape was innocent. The memories of their joint plot that Dumbledore had cleverly stashed in his office also played a role in winning Snape his freedom.
However, the outcome of the trial did little to improve Severus's frame of mind. As he sat at the head table, swooning with fatigue, memories flitted through his head…Dumbledore, dead at his hand, crashing lifelessly to the ground under the astronomy tower…the shrieks of the terrified and helpless muggles he unwillingly tortured to maintain his cover…his own blood pouring from the gash in his neck, certain he was going to die. At this last memory, Snape subconsciously ran his left hand over the scars that adorned his neck, a permanent physical reminder of the night he almost lost his life. I should have died, he thought. Then I would not be here, with everyone either throwing me suspicious glares or simpering looks of pity. I killed him.
The Great Hall had slowly filled with students and the rest of the staff as Snape sat, exhausted and lost in memories. He was pulled from his reveries by McGonagall's piercing voice, calling out over the throngs of students.
"Attention! Attention everyone, please. That's right, listen up. Before we begin the sorting, I have some quick announcements. As you all know, due to the problems with the quality and continuity of your education last year, you will be repeating the same year."
The students let out exasperated groans of complaint at this reminder. McGonagall silenced them with a few graceful waves of her arms.
"Hopefully this time around, you will actually learn what you ought to have been taught last year. This means there will be twice as many first years, so be patient with our staff, as we are quite overloaded this year."
Snape bristled at the mention of the conditions he would be teaching under this year. He was already aware, of course, but it was no great joy to him to have twice as many dunder-headed first years to teach. McGonagall had tried to appease him by promising to find him a suitable potions assistant to help him grade assignments and tutor his less intelligent students. Hopefully this assistant wasn't totally inept. He also sincerely hoped it was not the Granger girl. McGonagall ought to have more common sense than that. He sighed loudly, his shoulders drooping even lower as McGonagall pulled out the raggedy, ancient Sorting Hat.
"Now, let the Sorting begin!" her clear voice rang out with excitement.
After the hat sang its annual tribute to the various houses, the Sorting went on as it usually did, much to Snape's boredom. Each house applauded loudly when a new student joined their ranks. Snape sneered as he caught a glimpse of Potter and his friends, cheering with enthusiasm each time a new Gryffindor was announced. Fighting on the same side of a war did not quell his distaste for Potter, or most Gryffindors for that matter. Remembering Potter in the courtroom, pleading with the Wizengamot on his behalf, made Snape scowl. More than almost anything, he hated feeling indebted to the Potter boy.
As the last first year removed the hat and scampered over to a table full of Ravenclaw students, the Great Hall erupted into anxious chatter. Everyone was eager to begin the feast with their new classmates. However, McGonagall remained standing at the front of the room, and no food appeared.
"Attention all!" McGonagall's voice range out over the cacophony. "We have one more student to sort! She is a transfer student from Durmstrang, and will be joining the 6th years."
At the mention of this, the entire hall grew quiet. Even Snape's interest was piqued, for there had never been a transfer student at Hogwarts in the entire time he had been there. McGonagall waved encouragingly toward the entryway, and a thin, fair-skinned girl cautiously entered the room. Every head in the Great Hall was turned to inspect the new student. Her bright blue eyes were wide and her long, brunette hair framed her angular face. She struck Snape as quite delicate. Her steps were silent as she crossed the Great Hall, hundreds of eyes trained on her every move. As she approached the head table, Katya looked up into the pale, statuesque face of a man with black eyes. When his intense gaze met hers, she quickly averted her eyes. When Katya reached McGonagall, the girl turned her back on the head table in order to face the crowd of students.
"Everyone, this is Katya, our new student. Go on dear, have a seat and we will get you sorted," McGonagall directed.
Katya sank slowly into the chair and McGonagall ceremoniously placed the sorting hat onto her head. As usual, it looked oversized and ridiculous, hiding Katya's radiant blue eyes from view. Katya knew of the four different houses, and was quite indifferent as to where she was placed. After all, what did it matter what house she was in when…no. She wouldn't let herself think about her lost family. She had a new life to start her at Hogwarts and dwelling on the past would be of no help.
Inside the dark confines of the hat, Katya's breathing quickened. Everyone is looking at me, she thought in panic. Then she heard a worn voice inside her head.
A transfer, very interesting! I do love a challenge. Let's see, hmmmm…plenty of intellect and skill…but also bravery. A good soul truly, but you have done dark things. Cunning, yes, yes. And what magic! Quite the difficult one, aren't we? What am I to do with you?
I don't care, thought Katya painfully, just wishing that this intrusive hat, which seemed to pierce right through her, would be gone. The longer the Sorting Hat took to place Katya, the more attention she was paid. Everyone was leaning forward, waiting with bated breath to see where this new, mysterious student would be placed. After what felt like forever to Katya, the hat spoke to her again.
I see…so much sadness. Such hurt. But I think I know just where you need to be… "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat's decisive voice echoed throughout the Great Hall.
As the Gryffindor table whooped and hollered their approval, Snape stoically clapped his hands along with the other staff members. Katya jumped up from the chair and quickly yanked the hat from her head, relieved to be free of its suffocating inspection. She made her way to the nearest table decorated with red and gold and slid into a seat on the end. She smiled politely as she was clapped on the back by her new housemates.
McGonagall cleared her throat once more and declared, "Let the feast begin!"
Everyone around her was soon focused on the massive amounts of various delectable dishes that suddenly appeared. Katya was no stranger to magic, having grown up in a pureblooded home, but the mixture of colors and aromas was still overwhelming. She was grateful to finally have the attention drawn away from her, and although she was not hungry, she helped herself to a small portion of food.
Snape spent the majority of the evening indulging in the fine meal while dodging conversation with the other staff members. This proved quite difficult, as the new defense against the dark arts professor, former auror Marcus Lamont, seemed completely intent on engaging him. As he lazily scanned the Great Hall, Marcus's voice buzzing annoyingly in his ear, Snape's eyes alighted on Hogwarts' new addition. Normally he ignored Gryffindors except to deduct points, but there was something about this Katya that caught his attention. She quietly ate her meal, speaking when spoken too. Her luminous alabaster skin stood out strikingly against her darker hair. She smiled when she was addressed, but he couldn't help but notice that the smile never really reached her eyes.
Marcus's twittering voice interrupted his thoughts once again, and Snape turned to him with an irritated expression. Thank gods this dinner is almost over, Snape thought. He was so tired from the day's ordeals, and he still had much preparation to do for his classes the next day. As Marcus continued his unwelcome conversational advances, Snape's mind drifted to lesson plans, potions supplies and the stiff drink he would be having upon returning to his dungeon quarters.