DISCLAIMER: I own a wacom tablet and an iPod. I own a vast assortment of art supplies and a large, stuffed dog. I own an electric blanket, multiple pairs of socks and two tiaras. I own a ramshackle swing set, a rubber snake, an autographed copy of Garth Nix's Sabriel, a pencil sharpener, a hockey puck and two shoelaces. I even own the Skittlesverse, as Hebi recently christened it.

But I do not own Harry Potter.

DEDICATION: Is belated, because that would be a spoiler. -wink-

It Falls to the Young Chapter XXIV:

The Sorting Hat's Therapeutic Song

Severus yawned on the way to King's Cross, yawned as he boarded the Hogwarts Express, yawned as he and the other Marauders settled themselves into an empty compartment, yawned as Remus left for the prefects' meeting, and yawned as James and Sirius started up a game of Exploding Snap. Finally James balled up his cloak and threw it at him. "Merlin, Severus. Just go back to sleep." Severus, who was sprawled across the bench opposite his friends, responded by tucking the cloak behind his head and pulling out a mystery novel he'd borrowed from Remus. He still had the rest of the Bibliotheca Medicamentorum to read, but he'd had enough of potions for a while.

Severus had spent every waking moment of the last two days with Ted in the cellar, researching and taking notes on whatever ancient books were placed in front of him. Ted was working like a man possessed, and Severus was not about to stand in his way. They'd had most of their meals in the cellar, and worked late into the night—or early into the morning—trying to find a lead worthy of experimentation; but so far all they had managed was to wear themselves out completely. Severus had been more grateful than he'd thought possible when Remus had packed for him so he could snatch an extra hour of sleep.

The cards exploded, rousing Severus from his thoughts. He tried to refocus his mind on the novel, but the words were blurry and his eyelids far too heavy...

"Checkmate," Sirius whispered. James growled in frustration; they'd switched to wizard's chess—which was somewhat quieter—after Severus fell asleep, and he'd lost all five games so far.

"Remus..." he began, looking with pleading eyes at the werewolf who was lounging on the floor, leaning comfortably against Severus' bench. Remus didn't even look up from his book.

"For the last time James, I'm not helping. You're perfectly capable of losing on your own."

"Ouch," Sirius laughed.

James was debating whether to throw a rook at him when the compartment door opened, admitting his fellow chaser, Davey Gudgeon, Gryffindor's keeper, Frank Longbottom, Frank's girlfriend, Alice Greenwood, and her best friend—the girl he dreamed about, the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts, the girl with gorgeous red curls and eyes of the deepest, brightest, purest green—Lily Evans, who hated his guts and would not go out with him no matter how many times he asked. James wondered why she was here; she never voluntarily came within hexing distance of him, despite the fact that he'd never jinxed her and never would...

"These three," Lily announced with a highly skeptical look on her face, "say you lot were kidnapped by You-Know-Who. They said it was in the Prophet, and that Peter is a Death Eater—and I don't know how you convinced them to help with this sick joke, but..." She glanced around the compartment. "Where is Peter? And—that isn't—is that Snape?"

"What the hell is he doing in here?" Davey asked.

"Sleeping," Sirius replied nonchalantly, replacing his pawns on the board. "He was up late last night."

The quartet in the doorway gaped for a moment. "But—what—why is he in your compartment? You didn't poison him, did you?" asked Frank.

"Of course not," James snapped. "We have a truce. We're friends, whether you believe it or not. Now get out of here before you wake him up."

Alice didn't take the hint. "But isn't he a Death—"

"For Merlin's sake," Remus interrupted. "You have to explain things sometimes, James. Here's the abbreviated edition, Alice: Peter is indeed a Death Eater. He sold us out to You-Know-Who. Severus is—was—a spy for Dumbledore. He saved our lives, we saved his life, etcetera. We spent the summer together. Now we're friends. End of story."

Lily's brilliant green eyes were very wide. "So it's true?" she whispered.

"Yeah, and if you want details that's too bad, because you aren't getting them. Most of it we'd care to forget, anyway. Now, if you'll excuse us, I have to kick James' arse in chess again." Sirius saluted the visitors, then turned his back on them and refocused on the chess board. "Pawn to D3."

Alice, Lily, Davey and Frank left, reluctantly, after stealing more dubious glances at Severus. James could hear the girls begin speculating even before the door was closed.

"They're going to want more information later, you know," Remus said.

James nodded. "This is going to be trickier than I thought. By the time we get to Hogwarts, I bet everyone on the train will know... and none of them are going to trust Sev until they get the whole story."

"Or unless we threaten them," Sirius pointed out. "How's this for a slogan: trust him—or else."

"You can't threaten the whole school, Padfoot."

"You're right, Moony, that'd take far too much of my precious time. Unless..." Sirius paused. A wicked grin spread across his face. "Do you have any parchment handy? And James, I'll need to borrow your owl. We have a letter to write."

Severus woke up when James threw yet another set of robes at him—his Hogwarts robes.

"Get dressed, Severus. We'll be there in a few minutes."

Severus sat up and blinked. His hair was in his eyes; he brushed it away and pulled the robes over his head, noting with a mixture of apprehension and relief that the Slytherin crest had been replaced with a Gryffindor lion.

As he felt the train screech to a halt in front of Hogsmeade Station, Severus intensified his Occlumency shield, both out of habit and because he found it calming. After firmly reminding himself that Hogwarts' student body was far less intimidating than the Dark Lord, he took a deep breath and followed James into the corridor.

Once he'd made it into one of the thestral-driven carriages without being stared at by more than ninety-nine percent of the students on the platform, Severus closed the door and glared—calmly, he was still occluding—at the others. "I suppose it may have slipped your feeble minds, but did you happen to discuss our situation with every single student in the school while I was sleeping?"

"Only one or two who showed up and wouldn't leave," James said. "Frank, Davey, Lily..."

"And?"

"Alice," James admitted. Severus sighed; though no gossip at the school could compare with Bertha Jenkins, seventh year Hufflepuff, Alice Greenwood was not known for keeping her mouth shut.

"They would've found out at the feast, anyway," Remus said. "You'll be sitting with us—how much more obvious can it get?"

"Just warn me next time, okay? I'm jumpy enough as it is, and I'm not looking forward to explaining a few dozen times over that I'm no longer a Death Eater."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Sirius said brightly. "Dumbledore said he'll take care of it."

Severus groaned.

All too soon they reached the castle. Severus put on the expression he'd dubbed "vaguely polite indifference" and walked with the others into the Great Hall. There were many gasps and a few protests when he settled between Remus and James at the Gryffindor table; he responded by raising an eyebrow and tapping the red and gold crest on his robes. See, Remus—I haven't hexed anyone yet.

Good kitty.

Shut up, Padfoot.

Ignoring the sea of astonished students, Severus turned to survey the High Table. Dumbledore winked at him from his seat in the middle; he seemed to be enjoying the consternation of his pupils. Andromeda and Ted were at the far right, busy conversing with Professor Flitwick; Greebe sat on Dumbledore's left and did not look like he was enjoying himself at all. Severus smirked and turned to watch Hagrid enter the hall—but out of the corner of his eye he saw Greebe glare at him. What is with that man?

Professor McGonagall entered with the Sorting Hat, a stool and a long line of terrified first years. The Great Hall was much louder than usual—as all the students but the Marauders themselves were busy discussing why Severus Snape, quintessential Slytherin and rumored Death Eater, was sitting at Gryffindor table with the Marauders, of all people—and the Transfiguration Professor had to shoot several rounds of sparks from her wand before the noise dimmed to a hundred ill-concealed whispers. She placed the hat on the stool and stepped back, waiting for it to begin. The brim of the Sorting Hat opened and, sounding much more cheerful than usual, it began to sing...

"They all call me the Sorting Hat, for sorting's what I do;

you put me on your head and then in a house I'll put you.

Check out Hogwarts, A History and you will surely find,

that Godric was extremely brave and Helga very kind.

Rowena was the cleverest and Salazar was sly,

but there's more to these four houses than four adjectives imply.

For Gryffindor created me to sort you little nerds,

I've being doing it a thousand years and it's getting on my nerves.

'Enlighten first years of our history' reads my job description,

so here's my take, I'll warn you now—it's no loving benediction.

I could put you in Gryffindor, where from Quidditch they all stink,

they're known to boast of their dumb luck and leap before they think.

Or perhaps you'll go in Hufflepuff, another boring duffer,

this house is there for those who can't withstand anything tougher.

If you're a sissy teacher's pet then Ravenclaw's for you,

despite living neck-deep in books this lot hasn't a clue.

Finally there's Slytherin, if you've pillaged and oppressed,

a cold, malicious gathering of the truly blood-obsessed.

So step right up, come one, come all the firsties to be sorted,

now that you've heard the history the books have not purported.

On that note, I doubt this is quite what Godric intended,

but that felt good, was overdue and now my song has ended."

The Great Hall was completely silent. The hat bowed once, and Severus could have sworn it directed a quick, almost unnoticeable wink in his direction before it was still again. Severus felt the force of several hundred minds thinking simultaneously: "What the—?"and then the silence was broken as the Headmaster began to clap. Instantly the entire hall—excepting a few of the sterner teachers and pompous prefects—joined in the applause, which was scattered throughout with shouts of "Encore!" and bursts of laughter.

McGonagall, not looking at all happy with the hat's surprise, began the Sorting. No one at Gryffindor table paid any attention, however, because they were busy watching Sirius pick up his fork and wave it threateningly at Severus.

"Alright Severus—spill. What the hell did you do to the hat, and can you get it to do that again next year?"

"Why, Sirius. Surely you aren't implying that I would condone such an action?" Severus replied in tones of mock innocence. If he tried hard enough, he could almost ignore the others watching them; he could almost imagine he was back in the kitchen at Headquarters with no one but the other Marauders...

"It took way too long to sort you," James said. "You had to be talking about something—"

"Of course we were. It was teaching me the meditation techniques used by Alexander the Great."

"Really?" asked Sirius.

"No, you prat!"

"Shut up and watch the Sorting," Remus whispered. "McGonagall's giving us the evil eye."

Several minutes later "Wagtail, Susan" became a Gryffindor and Dumbledore rose to address the school.

"Welcome to the beginning of another school year," he said warmly. It comforted Severus a bit, seeing the Headmaster in the same sort of Merlin-awful, tacky robes he always wore. When Dumbledore has decent taste in clothing then I'll know the end is near. "Welcome back, our returning students, and welcome to Hogwarts, all you new faces. I have several start-of-term announcements to make before our feast begins. First, I should like to remind those of you with less than perfect memories that the Forbidden Forest is, unsurprisingly, still forbidden. Our caretaker, Mr. Argus Filch, has also asked me to inform you that—contrary to the beliefs of some—it is against school rules to transfigure any suit of armor into an amorphous life-form, no matter what color it is."

Sirius and James grinned and elbowed each other.

"Now I would like to take a moment to introduce you to our three new staff members: Professor Greebe, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Tonks, who will be teaching Potions, and Madam Tonks, who will be assisting Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing." Greebe and the Tonks couple nodded to the clapping students. "Yes, yes, a hearty welcome to our new faculty. I have one final announcement to make, if I may crave your indulgence for another minute. As our returning students seem to have noticed, Severus Snape has been resorted into Gryffindor."

All the eyes in the room flickered briefly towards Severus before returning to stare at Dumbledore.

"As I am sure multiple rumors have been spread concerning this event, and because I find the truth preferable to such gossip, I would like to take this moment to inform you that Severus Snape is not, and has never been, a servant of Lord Voldemort." A ripple of surprise spread throughout the room. "Rather, he was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix."

The Great Hall exploded into conversation. Dumbledore fired purple sparks from the end of his wand and there was immediate silence.

"As I was saying, all other rumors concerning Mr. Snape are undoubtedly false. His resorting occurred for reasons which, if you do not already know them, are absolutely none of your business. If I hear of anyone pestering him for more information on any of these topics, they will receive detention. And, on that note, I have been asked to make a public service announcement on behalf of Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black." Dumbledore paused to pull a bit of parchment from his sleeve. "Ah, yes. They would like to respectfully inform you that they cannot be held responsible for any serious, permanent, and/or traumatic injuries which might hypothetically be afflicted on anyone who objects to Mr. Snape's presence in Gryffindor house. They would also like to wish you a very nice day. And there's a P.S..." He squinted at the parchment. "Mr. Gudgeon, apparently you owe Mr. Black three galleons. That is all. Enjoy the feast!"

Dumbledore sat down and the golden dishes filled themselves with everything from casserole to carrots to chocolate gateau. Severus helped himself. He had always anticipated the Welcoming Feast with unusual eagerness, and though he hadn't spent this summer half-starved, he saw no reason to break with his traditional eat-as-much-as-possible-without-getting-sick approach.

The continuing stares of the Gryffindors, however, were off-putting.

"Considering that I will be here for the next three years and the feast will disappear in less than an hour, I believe that your time would be better managed if you stopped staring and ate," he remarked, casting a faint glare over the table in general. Everyone quickly became interested in pursuing either their dinners or private conversations.

So, Severus, Sirius said, did you like our note? I really ought to thank you for it; I don't think there's any other way we could've gotten away with threatening the whole school, and that was on our "to do before graduation" list.

It was music to my ears, Severus replied wistfully. How many gaping dunderheads at this school would I like to see with serious, permanent, and/or traumatic injuries...

Hopefully it won't come to that, said Remus.

The real test will be when we get back in the common room. The Marauders nodded in agreement. James added: "And could someone please pass the potatoes?"

Hee hee hee. That song might be my favorite part of the whole story. It was inspired by Textualsphinx's A Sorting Song by Severus, which you can find in my favorites. It is DEFINITELY worth the read. I mean, it makes mine look like something you'd find under a rock.

Also worth the read is the one-shot I'm now posting. Roughlysummarized,it's a continuation of the prologue from Dumbledore's POV, in which he muses on his relationship with Severus and how it begun.

So, no questions this chapter- just go read those two fics! Huggbees!