N/A: So, I was re-reading (re-re-re-re-re reading) the first Harry Potter book and was reading the chapter: The Sorting Hat, and this just came to me because it was so amazing to read after knowing everything about Snape. Enjoy! Review!
Severus did not even glance up from his hands as the terrified looking first years filed into the great hall, teeth chattering from the fear of an unknown test. Severus could not care less about the sorting. All of the first years were the same, Gryffindors: 'daring,' 'bold,' 'chivalrous' (arrogant and selfish). Hufflepuffs: 'loyal,' 'paitent,' 'just,' (stupid and naïve). Ravenclaws: 'witty,' 'wise,' 'smart,' (overly complicated and pompous). Slytherins: 'cunning,' 'challenging,' 'sly,' (underestimating the power and horror people in their house could do, and possibly more arrogant than the Gryffindor's).
Severus couldn't care to listen to the sorting hat's song. Every year the same. He had been here much too long, he had heard every variation of the song, and it wouldn't get any more interesting until the Dark Lord came back. Severus repressed a snort. The song finished. Severus barely heard the names being called, none of them meant anything to him. He managed to pick out Bones. He remembered with a small shudder her family's murders. He vaguely took in Longbottom. He let himself wonder for a moment if the boy would live up to his parents' name. Or possibly come to the same fate as them. Severus repressed another Snort. He heard Malfoy. This would be an interesting year. No one had to know that Severus himself found Lucius almost as infuriating as Lucius found him pathetic. No, Severus would play to his role, give the Malfoy boy—obviously a Slytherin—all of his favor, award him more points, tell him he was special. Complete bullshit but Severus couldn't risk any suspicion. Severus barely registered Crabbe and Goyle. He didn't think he could pretend they were special if they were anything like their fathers, and they most certainly would be.
"Potter, Harry." Severus' head snapped up so fast that he cricked his neck. He knew he shouldn't but he couldn't help it. How could he have forgotten the boy was coming to Hogwarts this year? Okay, he hadn't forgotten. He had counted down the years in his subconscious with pure dread, not to mention the smallest bit of hope that he wouldn't admit was there. Severus' eyes fell onto Harry. He sneered. He looked exactly like he should. Scrawny. Pale. Glasses. Hair that was almost as unattractive as his own hair, but of course no one seemed to notice that point. He walked with such an arrogant strut, exactly like his father. Actually, he looked even more terrified than any of the other students before him. But Severus could not see that. Call him embittered. He would not deny that. How could someone with his life not be? Harry shuffled up to the hat, whispers following his footsteps. The great hall sounded excited, in awe. Severus sneered. Harry reached the hat. He sat down on the stool and put the hat on his head which fell down over his ears. Severus noticed that his knobbly knees were trembling.
Severus waited for the inevitable. It did not come. Severus had been positive the hat would take only a second to decide. With parents and a legend like that, really, how couldn't it? What if Potter was sorted into Slytherin? Severus actually snorted this time. What a stir-up that would be. Potter would have a few less admirers than he was counting on. Although, the hat had considered putting Severus himself in Gryffindor. No one knew that. No one. He hadn't even told Lily. Severus wondered every day how the future would have looked if he had been a Gryffindor. He had never come to a conclusion.
"Gryffindor!" There we go. No surprises there. Harry jumped off the stool, looking elated. Severus may have not registered applause for any of the other students, but he was sure that however loud it may have been, Harry's was louder. Severus sneered in disgust, and returned to staring at his hands. The rest of the sorting finished quickly, and Severus was too distracted to notice Weasley, but there were enough of them already, the latest one would go the same.
Severus looked up as Dumbledore rose to his feet. He had to as a staff member; he did not care what Dumbledore had to say. Usually.
"Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak, thank you." Yes, he didn't care about that at all. Although he did admit that Dumbledore had some nerve. But the Dark Lord himself would give the old man that much. And Snape secretly gave him much, much more.
The golden plates filled with food, but Severus was not the least bit hungry. He knew he should eat. He needed something to distract himself from looking at the Gryffindor table and searching for the eyes he wanted to see. Luckily, or unluckily enough, p-p-professor Quirrell chose this moment to take him up in a stuttered conversation. What was this ridiculous turban? Ah, Severus was saved the question by Quirrell trying to explain in one regular sentence that he had gotten it from an "African prince. I g-g-ot rid of a a t-t-troublesome z-z-zombie for him." Absurd. Quirrell had most definitely never seen a zombie. Did zombies even exist? Severus had never even heard of them except in muggle fantasy novels. Either way, the turban also smelled revolting. Severus made a grudging mental note to mention that fact to Dumbledore.
Severus felt eyes on him, her eyes. He looked over before he could stop himself. There they were. He knew they would be there. Severus hadn't predicted how similar they would be, though. Even to such an embittered mind, he could not write them away as having an ounce of Potter in them. They were all Lily. Not just the green, the perfect shining emerald but the warmth, the bravery, the wariness but trust, the pride, and loyalty and the love. Everything was rushing back to Severus much too quickly. No. He had put all of those feelings away. He had kept them away. He would keep them away. Severus looked away. He didn't notice Harry clapping his hand on his forehead as pain shot through his scar. It was a good thing he didn't.
Severus ignored Quirrell completely now. His mind was racing. He had been awaiting this day, hoping it would not come but it had. Severus had figured it out finally. Maybe he had known it all along. The hat had considered putting him in Gryffindor. He had asked it not to. It had obliged. He had gone into Slytherin. If he had not: Potter never would have tortured him, he never would have called Lily a Mudblood, he never would have become a Death Eater, never have heard that prophecy, never have told Voldemort, never have killed the one he would love forever. Harry would not be an orphan and he wouldn't have a lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. Yes, Severus knew deep down that it was his fault. And Severus knew what he had to do.
Severus glanced down the table at Dumbledore. Dumbledore did not notice him; he was too busy talking animatedly to McGonagall. Severus looked away. Tonight, this night was the beginning of a new age, he was sure. He didn't know what was going to happen in it, but he knew that it started with him and a promise. Lord Voldemort had made a promise to him. He had broken it. Severus had then made a promise to Dumbledore. As much as he didn't like it, he now had to begin keeping it. As much as that scrawny arrogant boy didn't deserve it, Severus knew that he would devote the rest of his life to protecting him. Because Severus had not only made a promise to Dumbledore, no. He had made a promise to Lily. He was doing this for her, and Harry had her eyes as much as he wished he didn't. As long as Severus was alive, Harry would be too. Severus never broke promises.