Severus slumped in his seat at the Slytherin table, his heart sinking low in his chest.
"Gryffindor" his memory echoed painfully.
He couldn't believe it. He half hoped that the Sorting Hat would call Lilly back. That it had somehow made a mistake. Unfortunately, with every name called, that hope dwindled until it was extinguished. Headmaster Dumbledore had begun his start of term speech that in truth Severus didn't even find himself half listening to. He was too consumed with the sorrow of being separated from his best (not to mention only) friend by one of the biggest rifts in the magical world.
"At least we're both here" he thought ruefully. Heartened by this thought, Severus found himself in a slightly better humor and he even found time to be amazed at the sudden appearance of the great feast. Roast chickens were spaced every foot or so, still sizzling from the ovens. Large bowls heaping with mashed potatoes, sautéed squash and dark rye bread surrounded each one. Cold pitchers of Pumpkin Juice magically refilled themselves after each pour. The prefect sitting next to Severus must have been amused by his reaction to the feast because he was grinning in the most unsettling way. He didn't care that his gaping made him look silly; Severus had never seen so much food in his whole life. A sudden clink of silverware near his chest startled him. Severus shifted his gaze down to his plate which now had half a chicken heaped on his plate. He gawked at it hungrily and glanced to his left at the prefect who grinned at him over his goblet.
"I always find that the first feast of the term brings out ones' appetite, don't you agree?" he said in a silvery tone.
After a short pause, Severus nodded meekly at the imposing figure next to him. Even sitting, he sat taller than anyone he had ever met. His long white blonde hair was secured neatly at the base of his neck, giving him a very refined look.
"Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy." Lucius said, extending a slender pale hand
Severus shook his hand dumbly, shocked at the intense grip of the older boy next to him.
"Well? Do you have a name, boy?" he asked, icy eyes glittering.
"Severus Snape." The younger boy mumbled.
Lucius smiled that eerie smile once more, causing Severus' blood to rise in his cheeks. He knew that his surname came with a certain reputation. It wasn't every day that a Muggle married a pureblood in certain circles. Being sorted into Slytherin assured that you would be among people from those circles.
"Snape, eh?"
"Yes, sir." Severus mumbled looking down at his lap, waiting for the inevitable derisive remark. What would it be this time? How hard had his father hit his mother to make Severus' nose look like that? How many times did Eileen Prince have to be hit until she sliced her Muggle husband's chest.
Lucius barked out a laugh and clapped Severus on the back, sharply dragging him out of his self imposed hate spiral.
"You're a good man, Snape." He laughed, dishing out potatoes to the younger students around him. "A good man indeed."
Severus looked up at him briefly before beginning to care into his chicken. Somehow he felt that if Lucius Malfoy, a veritable pure blood prince, thought him a good man, he wouldn't want to be one.

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