Chapter 6

The Great Hall

Severus Snape apparated to the front gates that marked the entrance to the Hogwarts grounds, happy to be away from the boisterous atmosphere of King's Cross. The last time he had stepped foot at platform nine and three-quarters had been when he himself was a student, and it seemed only to have increased in deafening chaos since then. He let out a scowl as he realised that in only a few hours that train filled to the brim with overly-energetic students would be arriving for the start of term. He hoped his own son was behaving with more propriety than his classmates. He shuddered as an intrusive thought formed in the front of his mind of his son seated next to the Weasley twins and getting thrown off the train before even arriving. He rolled his eyes at such audacity, it would most likely be Potter who would be getting up to such misconducts if his notions were correct.

With a wave of his wand, Severus' unorthodox muggle attire transformed into his familiar billowing, black robes, and feeling a lot more confident in the accustomed apparel, he made his way through the grounds to the front door of the castle, his thoughts turning to his son and a certain book from earlier the past evening. He was furious at his son for reading such text, and even more infuriated at himself for apparently leaving it out where his son had access to it. For the life of him he couldn't figure out how the book had even moved from his private library upstairs to the downstairs sitting room, he couldn't even remember the last time he had bothered to look at such a tome. Letting the puzzling circumstance drop from his mind for the time being, his thoughts turned to darker ones. He didn't like the idea of his son having a curiosity for dark magic, the idea of his son following in his foot steps made him feel uneasy. He sighed as he supposed he was too liberal with his son about dark magic. He'd have to work quickly to correct that, perhaps he'd have to be like other parents and inflict the notions of dark magic being mysterious and terrifying. Better for his son to have nightmares than to be overly curious and follow down dark paths.

"Ready for the start of term?" questioned the headmaster as Severus continued on his journey to his dominion of the dungeons.

"Yes headmaster," said Snape curtly. He still had a few tasks before the start of term and wanted to get them out of the way as soon as possible, not be bothered by gossiping headmasters.

"Very good," the Headmaster said with a smile as though he were talking to one of his students and not a professor. "We have a lot of impressionable young minds joining us this year, I hope you are as excited as I am to feed their curious desires with knowledge and skills. One particular student in particular is joining us this year as I'm sure you know."

Severus felt his lip curl as the conversation turned towards the less-than-ideal topic of Potter. He tried to think of the boy as little as possible. Inwardly he cringed as he realised that would be a lot more difficult than normal as the boy was starting his term. He almost let out a gasp as he thought of something that had never even occurred to him before; if his son ended up in Gryffindor would Salric and the Potter brat end up as friends? Surely the boy would follow alongside his parents into the foolish house. Would he have to invite him over during summer holidays? He couldn't bear to watch his son sit next to Potter in potions class. He mentally shook his head no, deciding that his son was far too intelligent to be wrapped around whatever heroic notions Potter had about himself. No son of his would blindly follow hero worship!

"Severus..." said Dumbledore, Severus could almost hear a 'tut tut' wanting to emerge from behind the Headmaster's words. "I hope you aren't planning to treat Harry Potter unfairly just because of who is father happened to be?"

Severus stopped his brisk walk and stared the Headmaster in the eyes, if the headmaster was any one else he would have been glaring daggers menacingly enough to frighten even the toughest of men. "Headmaster," Severus began, his voice etched with venom. "I remember what I promised you the night I retrieved my son, but that does not mean I have to like Potter. I will put up with living in the same castle as him, I will even try my best to make sure he does not fall victim to any threats, but I will not put up with any of the foolish bravado that was present in his father." And with that, Severus stalked off deeper into the dungeons, leaving the headmaster behind.

The Head of Slytherin House inspected the common room of the aforementioned house one last time before heading to the Great Hall and joining the rest of the staff. He needed to make sure everything was in perfect order before the students arrived lest they acquire ill ideals that Slytherin was a house that embraced anything but the utmost perfection. Marginally satisfied with the appearance, he dimmed the lights and headed outside the dungeons towards the Great Hall. Normally such a day would leave him with dread as he pictured the year's term and all the talentless students he would have the misfortune of teaching, this year however he couldn't help but feel excitement over the thought of seeing his son be sorted and start his academic career. He was admittedly also looking forward to teaching Draco Malfoy who he knew had a love for potions as well. Two students who were gifted at potions in one year was almost too much to ask for. Oh sure there were usually at least a handful of students who were adept in the art of potion making, and probably a dozen or so more who could adequately follow the instructions, (not that he would ever say that to their faces of course, he didn't need the students to develop egos), but to actually have students who were passionate about the subject was a rarity.

Severus entered the Great Hall just as the candles were being conjured and the artificial panorama of the night's sky was being etched across the ceiling by Dumbledore's master spell casting. He cruised alongside the tables which would soon be filled with uproarious students and took his seat at the High Table beside twitchy Professor Quirrell. Snape noted he was the last of the staff to have arrived, even the notorious tardy Hagrid was already seated. Eager for the Boy-Who-Lived's sorting, Severus thought grimly to himself. The Potions professor almost didn't have enough time to finish that thought as all of a sudden a cacophonous, thundering roar resonated throughout the hall; the students had arrived.

Salric gaped at the Great Hall in awe. Growing up inside the castle he had seen it countless times before, but tonight it somehow looked different, more magical if that were possible. He supposed it was his nerves and excitement that made everything seem bigger, brighter, and more fantastical than he could remember. He followed his line of fellow classmates down the Great Hall between the tables where the students of the other years already sat talking amongst themselves. He looked up at the ceiling and smiled as he saw the stars twinkling above him; he used to love watching Dumbledore conjure that spell. Behind him he could hear Hermione whispering something to herself, he supposed she was still trying to go over spells she thought she might need for the sorting ceremony. Salric felt a pang of guilt that he didn't tell her she didn't need to worry about spells, but his father and professor McGonagall had been adamant that he mustn't reveal the secret ahead of time.

The line came to a halt and Salric felt his uneasiness rush to the pit of his stomach again. In a moment of panic his eyes gazed to the High Table where his father sat with a familiar scowl on his face glaring at the students. Salric almost laughed at the fact that he could find such a menacing look so comforting, but the feeling of uneasiness was replaced with determination; he would not let his father down!

He watched intently as Professor McGonagall placed the dismal looking hat on top of a stool and suppressed the urge to giggle as he noted the confused faces of his fellow first years. A part of him was jealous that this was new to them, how strange it must seem. He smiled at the thought of perfect Malfoy putting the dirty hat on his head; no doubt Draco would be full of complaints later tonight after he washed his hair a few times. He watched in silent glee as his classmates jumped when the hat began to sing. After it was finished he joined applause and noticed that most of the first years were much more relaxed now that they knew they only had to put the hat on their heads.

"I'm not putting that wretched thing on my head!" exclaimed Draco. Salric didn't doubt that Draco would much rather be preforming magic. He noticed that Hermione seemed rather disappointed as well.

One by one he watched the new students get sorted into their houses. He smiled when Hermione Granger's name came up and was shocked when she got sorted into Gryffindor, he thought for sure she'd be in Ravenclaw after their brief encounter on the train. He watched Neville Longbottom, the boy who had had some sort of trouble on the train, also get sorted into Gryffindor. Further and further down the alphabet the names went, each one getting closer and closer to his name, each one giving him more anxiety. Finally it was Malfoy's turn to put the hat on and Salric watched in envy as he was sorted into Slytherin before the hat even had time to adjust itself on his head. He nodded his head in approval when Malfoy gazed in his direction. Only a few moments later the name everyone had been waiting for was called.

"Potter, Harry!" called McGonagall, and suddenly the Hall burst out into loud whispers. Salric watched as a skinny, awkward looking, black-haired boy made his way over to the stool and placed the hat on his head. That's Harry Potter? Salric thought to himself, he didn't seem that grandeur and his description in the papers certainly embellished a lot. Salric supposed he must have a huge egotistical personality to make up for his shortcomings. The next thing Salric noted was that the hat was taking a long time to sort him, a lot longer than it had with the other students. Suddenly Salric had a fleeting thought, what if Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin? Certainly that was impossible, Potter was everything a Gryffindor envisioned to be. But what if Harry was sorted into Slytherin and Salric into Gryffindor? His father would probably have an aneurysm.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat, awakening Salric from his reverie and simultaneously soothing his fears. He clapped along with his peers and watched as his father looked on in disgust from his seat. He couldn't help but mimic his father's expression as he watched the Gryffindor table, most noticeably among them was the Weasley twins, erupt into hysterics as Harry Potter sat down at their table, a look of bewilderment and relief on his face.

"Snape, Salric!" bellowed McGonagall and suddenly Salric felt a lump form in his throat. He wasn't going to walk nervously to the hat like the other students however; he held his head high as he marched over to the stool. He noticed a few whispers had broken out, though not near as many as there had been for Harry Potter, in fact most people were still talking amongst themselves about the boy-who-lived. Salric felt annoyed by this, just his luck to get sorted after the hero of legend and have him steal all the thunder. Salric assumed that under ordinary circumstances a child of a professor getting sorted would be of great interest to the student body.

Salric picked up the dusty hat, placed it on his head and heard a voice he had been waiting all of his life to hear; he heard the sorting hat speak.

"Young Snape," said the hat with a quiet voice. "It's not often I get to sort the son of a Head of House, don't think that will help me make my decision!"

Salric suddenly had great difficulty swallowing and he felt his eyes grow wide in fear. Where was the hat going to place him?

"I see you have a very bright mind," the hat continued. "You have a love of books and learning. You're talented, very talented. You're ambitious as well, you have a great wish to be powerful like your father. I see your ambition is what drives you, but you're brave as well and loyal to your father. You're hard to place, a lot like the other one."

Salric was frozen at that. Bravery? Loyalty? Weren't those Gryffindor traits? "Not Gryffindor," he thought, hoping the hat could hear him.

"Not Gryffindor?" asked the hat, Salric thought it almost sounded like it was chuckling. "You'd do well there. You would have friends who would help to shape you, and to achieve things beyond your dreams. If not, then the perfect place for you is SLYTHERIN!"

Salric felt a great deal of relief as the pressure of the sorting left his emotions. He happily joined his fellow housemates at the Slytherin table who were applauding and took a seat next to Draco.

"Congratulations Snape," said Draco nonchalantly. "Of course, I knew you'd be here, it would only make sense as your father is the head of our house."
Salric was a bit perplexed at Draco's sudden indifferent attitude towards their friendship, but he smiled nevertheless at Draco's comment. He turned his attention to the High Table and noticed a smile almost presenting itself on his father's face and suddenly felt warm. He had done it, he'd made his father proud. Almost as soon as it was there, the smile was gone, replaced by his usual scowl of contempt, but Salric saw, and to Salric it meant the world. He looked over to Hagrid and was disappointed when he noticed Hagrid was giving Potter a thumb's up and a big smile. So that was it then, Potter had stolen Hagrid away. He lingered his eye on Hagrid a moment longer and was rewarded when the half-giant met his eye and gave him an approving smile, perhaps Hagrid hadn't forgotten him after all. He turned his attention back to the sorting and watched as the newest Weasley was sorted into Gryffindor. Blaise Zabini followed him, who took a seat beside Salric at the Slytherin table. Salric suddenly turned his attention to Draco who seemed to be engaged in a conversation about Quidditch with a second year boy named Mars Peters. Just as Salric was about to add his opinion on the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, Dumbledore had called for silence. He listed as Dumbledore spoke an incomprehensible sentence which made everyone apart from the Slytherins laugh.

"My father always said there was something wrong with him," said Draco haughtily as everyone started piling their plates with food. Salric felt his stomach grumble as he began to dig in to the savoury feast. Hogwarts' start of term feast was always his favourite meal of the year and it seemed even more glorious now that he was an actual student.

"This food is loads better than the stuff my dad cooks," marvelled the dark skinned boy, Blaise Zabini, beside him.

"I know what you mean," joked Salric.

"What do you mean?" questioned a tall boy with wild, dark hair who was seated opposite Salric. "Isn't your father the potions professor? I'd think he'd know how to cook a good meal."

"That's just it," laughed Salric. "He treats cooking as if it's a potion. Everything has to be an exact art form, he leaves no room for experimenting. It ends up tasting like a potion most of the time."

The boy gave a slight grimace before concealing his emotions and turning his attention back to his meal. "I'm Theodore Nott by the way," he added with a formal tone to his voice.

"Salric Snape," replied Salric. "But I guess if you know my father is the potions' professor than you know that."

Whether Theodore heard his reply Salric didn't know because suddenly the house ghost, the Bloody Baron, appeared and had taken up residence next to Draco. Salric felt sorry for his friend, he knew how Draco could be about blood. Once when they were younger Draco had decided to play on his training broom without his parents' supervision. Salric had protested, but Draco went ahead anyway. Draco has lasted three minutes in the air before he tumbled to the ground and scraped his knee. There hadn't been that much blood but that didn't stop Draco from passing out at the sight of it.

"Are you going to watch the Quidditch try-outs?" asked Salric, trying to get his friend's mind off of the ghost on his other side. It seemed to work, Draco perked up immediately.

"Oh of course!" he exclaimed. "I'm going to be watching everyone's techniques closely. I need to know what I'm up against next year when I'm allowed to try out."

It seemed Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini also had a love for Quidditch and were equally upset over the fact that first years weren't allowed on the team. The four boys delved deeply into discussion of the sport, and Salric was pleased to note that Zabini's favourite team was also the Appleby Arrows; he finally had someone to argue with him against Malfoy's insistence that the Kenmare Kestrels were the best. He was also pleasantly surprised when Theodore Nott, who had remained noticeably quiet during most of the conversation, announced to the boys that he expected potions to be his favourite class.

By the time Dumbledore had explained the most important of the school rules, Salric was almost ready to fall asleep in his chair. He followed Draco, who was once again surrounded by Crabb and Goyle, and his two new friends out of the Great Hall and into the familiar corridors where he was finally going to start his year as a student of Hogwarts. As the group of students neared the entrance of the dungeons one thought nestled into the back of his mind; what had the sorting hat meant when it said he was "a lot like the other one"?