Snape had never hated a student more in his entire life. The Ravenclaw girl stared up at him with the usual mixture of fear and anger in her eyes that most students gave him. This he was accustomed to; this did not bother him.

It was the Hufflepuff boy he stood ominously over who annoyed the hell out of him. The fact that he was only a first year student did not help in the least.

It was the first term of the new school year and already he hated this young boy.

"Mr. Dale, please explain to me why you are helping Miss Lafore."

He said, glaring daggers down at the child, a nasty sneer upon his face. Dale; a common name for a common child. He was no doubt a muggle-born, as he hadn't known the first thing about magic when he had first arrived in Snape's classroom. He apparently thought himself quite knowledgeable now however, to be helping his Ravenclaw neighbour with her potion.

Dale lifted his gaze, and Snape's frown worsened when he noticed there was no trace of fear, anger, or even hatred in those black eyes that were so much like his own. No, he corrected, so much unlike his own. Dale's eyes were dark, but not stormy. They were calm, and they shined like polished river stones.

"I thought it the right thing to do, professor."

Sigmund said softly.

Polite, polished river stones, Snape added snidely in his mind.

"The next time I find you helping a fellow student you will earn yourself a detention. Do I make myself clear?"

Snape asked, leering down over his student, but still there was no other emotional reaction from him other than an eerie sort of peace.

"Yes, Professor."

He said, again as softly as he had before.

"And fifteen points from Hufflepuff."

For having such an annoyingly quiet disposition, Snape thought bitterly as he made his way over to his own cauldron. It was about time to add the venomous tentacula leaves, but for the life of him he couldn't find them in the store cupboard. He was sure he hadn't run out. No that wasn't true he wasn't exactly sure. It was a possibility that he'd simply not noticed their rapid depletion, as Professor Sprout always demanded Dragon Dung Fertiliser potions from him, another brew which required the leaves. He could feel himself growing more and more impatient.

"Professor?"

A soft voice called, and he knew instantly that it was Sigmund. The voice made him shudder unpleasantly, though none the less it was his duty as a teacher to see what the blasted child wanted.

"Yes?"

He asked slowly, but in contrast twirling so quickly that his robes billowed wildly behind him.

He was utterly shocked to find Sigmund holding up four freshly cut Tentacula leaves. Snape was about to snap at the child for stealing from his stores, but he quickly realised he couldn't have. The leaves he kept were dried; he nearly never had freshly cut leaves such as the ones Sigmund was now pressing into Snape's palm.

Without another word the child scuttled away and sat down behind his cauldron. Sniffing it and seeming pleased, he scooped out enough liquid to fill a small vile before corking it.

Snape sat down at his desk and pretended not to notice him, returned to his grading. When the class was finished the students all made their way up to hand in their potions. As Sigmund placed his in the tray he lifted his face into a small smile.

"Have a good afternoon professor."

He said cheerily, and went to join the Ravenclaw girl he'd previously been helping –and had continued to help when he thought Snape's back was turned. This salute didn't bother Snape so much. Not anymore, at least. It had when he'd first started at the beginning of term, but now that Sigmund said it after every class, Snape had grown accustomed to the usual goodbye. Normally he ignored it, however today he had given his student a passing nod before he'd left.

The next day he'd found a Venemous Tentacula plant upon his desk in the morning, a rather large, healthy, and impressive looking specimen who resided in a pot which had the name "Herbert" written on it in black block letters.

Throughout his teaching years, Snape had come to hate Sigmund less and less. He usually attributed that to the fact that a certain Harry Potter had become a student of his, something that had the effect of significantly diminishing any sort of hate he'd ever felt towards most everything in his life.

One particular night in June when his memories were getting the better of him, Snape decided to wander up from his dungeon quarters to get a cup of tea from the kitchens. He could simply have conjured the tea down to his chambers, however the walk to calm his fury seemed more enticing than the tea itself. Less enticing than wrapping his fingers around James Potter's neck, but still fairly pleasing none the less.

A sudden clang and a shout drew his attentions away from the kitchens however, and thinking that there was a student out of bed he quickened his pace. The idea of catching the little delinquent and giving out a year's worth of detention brought a cruel glee to his heart. He was quite surprised to find that indeed there was a student out of bed, but the situation more than warranted an explanation.

Sigmund, now no longer a boy, but a man of seventeen, stood defensively in front of a pile of barrels, his teeth bared like an animal and his wand pointed at none other than Alastor moody.

"Lower your wand boy!"

Alastor growled, but Sigmund only seemed to bristle further at the request.

"No!"

He growled.

"What's going on here?"

Snape demanded firmly, eyeing Sigmund suspiciously. It wasn't like him to be uppity about anything, never mind full out enraged and ready to attack at a moment's notice.

"Whoever he is, he's trying to break in to our common room."

Sigmund accused fiercely, flicking his wand to indicate the ex-Auror, who looked absolutely furious with the boy.

"That's a very serious accusation to make against Professor Moody, Mr. Dale."

Snape said, frowning. Surely Sigmund had taken a class with the defence against the dark arts teacher, and knew who he was. The classes after all, were mandatory.

"I'm looking for the kitchens you stupid child."

Alastor growled. Still, Sigmund did not lower his wand.

His eyes were hard and fierce, not at all like those peaceful pools of black that Severus had known him to poses since the boy was eleven years old. Snape's nerves were on edge as it was, and the decision wasn't easy to make, but he had to take someone's side in this fight, so he went with his instincts. They screamed at him, warning him that something was off about this situation, and whatever was wrong had nothing to do with Sigmund.

"Surely, Professor,

Snape said in a carefully calm tone.

"Your magical eye would let you know that the kitchen is not here."

He said, motioning to the barrels that Sigmund still guarded with all the ferocity of his house's mascot. Moody stood stunned a moment before huffing angrily, muttering something about searching somewhere else, and clunked furiously away.

Sigmund didn't lower his wand until he could no longer hear the sound of a wooden foot connecting with stone floor. The change seemed almost instant, as Sigmund loosened his posture significantly and let the worry Snape suspected he'd felt all along appeared on his face. Snape knew that Sigmund wasn't stupid. He wouldn't have stood a chance should Moody have decided to force his way into the common room, but still one question nagged in his mind. Why would Alastor want to break into the Hufflepuff common room?

"Professor Sprout's been complaining about someone pruning all her Fluxweed on the full moons."

Sigmund said, which aggravated the dark man.

"Yes, she mentioned that."

Snape said with a huff of indignity. She'd practically accused him of it, as it was a valuable potion ingredient when picked on the full moon... which coincidentally happened to be tonight.

"She brought her remaining plants here sir, to store them, and if I'm not mistaken Professor, you warned all your classes that whoever was stealing from your personal stores would be caught. You had me do an inventory, remember? Among the missing articles were lacewing flies, Boomslang skin, crude antimony and Bicorn horn."

Sigmund explained. What did it matter what was stolen, Snape thought irritably. They were his private stores, and lacewing flies, Boomslang skin, crude Antimony and Bicorn horn were particularly hard to come by. He didn't appreciate people stealing from them!

Polyjuice Potion. They were all ingredients in Polyjuice potion. The surprised look on Snape's face must have been evident, because Sigmund swallowed hard and said,

"I don't know who just walked away professor, but it wasn't Alastor Moody. That. Is. Not. Him."

Sigmund spoke with such certainty that Snape didn't doubt what he was saying for a moment. Not saying a word, Snape made his way as quickly as he could to Dumbledore's tower.

Sigmund deserved some sort of reward, and so for each step he took Snape mentally added a point to the Hufflepuff hourglass. It was only when he had reached the headmaster's office that he was saddened, realising that it would do Sigmund no good this year, as there was no house cup to win. He vowed to tell Dumbledore that it was indeed Sigmund -no common student, one in a million in fact- who had figured out what Alastor was. He would make sure Hufflepuff got at least a little bit of fame.

They never did. All anyone cared about was that the fake Alastor turned out to be a rather famous dark wizard, Barty Crouch Jr., and that he had managed to slip into Hogwarts right under Dumbledore's nose. Nobody took notice to the fact that the Hufflepuff hourglass was overflowing with jewels the morning the news broke out. Nobody knew about the boy who had stood his ground against a powerful dark wizard, and accuse him to his face of being a fraud; a wizard who had gotten past the famed Albus Dumbledore, but hadn't managed to escape the notice of the humble Hufflepuff.

For a while afterwards, Snape wondered if the Sorting Hat had misplaced Sigmund, if he shouldn't be in Gryffindor for his bravery.

It was only one morning as he watched over another class of Hufflepuffs as they struggled determinedly through their potions lesson that he realised what an insulting thought that had been.

Sigmund Dale had done exactly what the Hufflepuff house was famous for. He had determinedly stood up alone in the face of danger, and he hadn't backed down despite being well aware that it could have meant serious personal harm if not death.

Most of all however, he had shown great loyalty to his house and Hogwarts. He had defended it unflinchingly, with all the ferocity of an angered badger.

Every student knew that Professor Snape preferred his own house, Slytherin, over the others. That was a fact no one could deny. However from the day Sigmund had faced Barty alone in front of his common room entrance on, the students of Hufflepuff began to notice that Professor Snape seemed to treat them with just a little bit more respect than he had before.

That, and he grew oddly attached to a Venomous Tentacula named Herbert.