A/N: I'm very excited to share this story. Long story short, it's a look at a world where Severus Snape was able to put the past in the past a bit more than he did in the books, while still being grumpy, snarky, and far from perfect. He's very much inspired by the portrayal of Snape in the absolutely wonderful Margot11's series of fics starting with 'A Learning Experience'.

Like the aforementioned fics, and to quote their author, this is a bit of a romp and not meant to be taken too seriously. Consider it a look at a version of Slytherin whose students actually act like children, and who may come from dark backgrounds, but haven't had their own paths written yet.

Warnings: Some swearing now and then, and please note there will be occasional instances of corporal punishment, because it's a Scottish boarding school nearly three decades ago, but nothing particularly described or over the top. I'm including it as this fic is very much in the spirit of old boarding school novels, additionally because the fic this is influenced by included it (as did the fics it was based on), and mainly because I imagine this Snape, given the time and place he went to school, wouldn't think twice about using it here and there.

Chapter One: The First Night

Harry Potter sat quietly on a low leather couch in a corner of the Slytherin common room. He gazed around, taking in the long room that was illuminated by the greenish glow of round lamps hanging from chains. Tapestries and other decorations including a large coat of arms adorned the space. The walls, Harry noted, were rather like the low ceiling in that they were made from rough stone, and seemed almost green due to the light. The dim light and green glow were oddly soothing, almost like the photos of the aquarium he'd seen after a school trip he hadn't been allowed to go on. All the same, he was more nervous than he'd been all day.

Why had he listened to that stupid hat? He hadn't spoken much to anyone yet beyond a few words here and there at dinner, but all he could think of were the bad things he'd heard about his new house. He'd met that tosser Draco Malfoy buying robes, and then Hagrid told him there wasn't a witch or wizard that went bad that wasn't from Slytherin. He'd said that Voldemort had been in Slytherin. He was in the same house as the man who'd killed his parents? There had to be a mistake; he wasn't supposed to be here.

Someone was watching him. Harry looked up only to meet the gaze of Malfoy, flanked on both sides by his friends from the train. Goyle's glare in particular was fierce; he clutched a bandaged finger with his other hand, and Harry thought back to Ron's rat sinking his teeth into it on the train. Harry didn't feel that sorry for him; after all, they'd started it. Still, all Goyle had really done was try to steal one of Harry's Chocolate Frogs. He didn't much like Malfoy or his friends, but they were going to live together for the next seven years, so Harry summoned up his resolve, got to his feet, and walked over.

"I'm sorry about Scabbers," he said once he was in front of them. "I hope your finger is all right."

"My finger is fine," Goyle snapped. "I don't need sympathy from you, Potter."

"Fine," Harry said. He wasn't about to fight, but he wasn't going to bend over backwards either. "I only figured if we're going to be in Slytherin together we might as well try to get along, that's all. But do what you want."

"Oh, now he wants to be friends, boys," Draco said with a drawling laugh. "Now that there's three of us against one of him and there's nowhere to run off and hide."

Harry opened his mouth to fire something back when an older boy appeared behind Malfoy and cleared his throat, his prefect badge prominent likely because he chose that moment to straighten it. The boys fell silent, deflating slightly but still on edge.

"Come, now," the boy said, giving Malfoy's shoulder a light shove. "Let's all get along, shall we? It's your first night here and you're already making enemies."

Malfoy just glared at Harry.

"Don't be stupid," the prefect went on, and lightly shoved Malfoy's shoulder again with an air that was almost friendly. "Aren't you happy to be at Hogwarts at last?"

Harry glanced around and took in his surroundings. He'd known about Hogwarts for barely a month, but it wasn't quite what he was expecting. When he'd first seen the turrets of the beautiful, looming castle, he hadn't quite been imagining where his room would be, but he certainly hadn't expected it to be in the dungeons. What kind of school made their students sleep in a dungeon? Would they be locked in? Had he made the right decision, coming here?

Finally, Malfoy nodded at the prefect and relaxed slightly, although he gave Harry a dark look.

"I'm Terence Higgs," the prefect went on. "Prefect and Slytherin Seeker, if they'll still have me this season. Any questions, come to me."

With that, he turned away and started briskly toward a pair of second years who'd climbed on top of an intricately-carved, polished chestnut table, though not before shooting an almost-disguised look at Harry's scar. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's gaze followed as well.

"Did you really kill him?" Malfoy asked. His face was blank, neutral, but his eyes gave his interest away.

Harry thought back to what Ron had said on the train about Malfoy's family. "Did your father really support him?"

Before Malfoy could answer or even react, the stone wall at the front of the room slid open, and a dark figure stepped in. The effect was instantaneous. Students lounging on couches and thick, comfortable-looking rugs leapt to their feet and scurried toward the far wall opposite the fireplace. Every student seemed to know what to do, even most of the first years, so Harry just followed and found himself part of a mass that wasn't quite a line, but flattened out into something close to one.

Professor Snape strode to the far end, walked from one end to the other, then went back the way he came. His expression was foreboding, and his eyes didn't carry the twinkle Professor Dumbledore's did, but Harry didn't sense any actual, genuine fear from the students around him- and yet they'd all scurried up fast when he'd walked in.

"Welcome back to Slytherin," he said at last, striding down the line again. He made eye contact with the students as he passed, a hand occasionally darting out to straighten a cloak lapel or other bit of clothing before moving along. Harry glanced to his side and saw the remaining students quickly smooth down their uniforms and check their fingernails as best they could.

Snape paused in front of a dark haired boy whose cheek was smeared with something that appeared to be gravy. He stared at the boy, who squirmed slightly under the completely still and silent gaze of his housemaster.

"Bole," he said after an excruciatingly long moment. "I am aware it's been a long few months apart from the utterly delightful presence of one another, but I suspect the rules of your home aren't particularly different from my own."

"Sir?" the boy all but squeaked, his eyes darting around frantically. "I don't understand."

Snape drew in a long breath through his nose, then let it out a moment later through his lips. He pressed two fingers to his temples. "Your face, you dunderhead. I'm talking about your face."

"My face?" Bole repeated, still flummoxed. He wiped at it nervously, missing the gravy completely. "I don't understand, sir, is something wrong with my face?"

Stifled giggles erupted from the gathered Slytherins, which Snape silenced with only a glance. Taking pity on the boy, he motioned at the spot he'd missed and said, "A Slytherin is polished, graceful, and never makes a public fool of him or herself. He certainly doesn't wear his dinner instead of eating it."

Comprehension dawned on Bole's face, and he pressed a hand over the dinner in question. Snape pointed to a doorway that Harry had been told led to the dormitories. "Go. Wash up. And then it's straight to bed with you. Perhaps the extra sleep will refresh your mind and help you recollect what I expect from my students."

The stifled giggles burst into outright laughter as Bole sheepishly stepped out of line and began the walk of shame. Harry didn't join in, but after his initial surprise faded he realized the laughter wasn't the same mean-spirited kind he was used to hearing when Dudley cornered him after school.

"The term hasn't even officially started, Lucian!" someone called after him, another hooting, "Is that a new record for fastest to get in trouble at the start of the year?"

Snape allowed this for all of three seconds before clearing his throat loudly. The Slytherins immediately obeyed, though they were still smiling, and Harry could see that Snape didn't seem especially upset. Even Bole didn't seem embarrassed at being sent to bed early, instead waving as he disappeared through the narrow door, wiping at his face with the other hand.

Snape returned his gaze to the students, and Harry froze as his eyes landed on him. They lingered for only a fraction of a second, then moved to the girl beside him, then beyond.

"For those of you who are new to Slytherin, I will tell you outright- I am not a man to be trifled with. The rumors you've heard from siblings are true. You may have tales of cunning and victory. In fact, I'm certain you do. Keep in mind that however clever you think you are, I am not one to be fooled, nor to be crossed, as I am sure any older student will confirm if asked." Snape's tone was firm, his gaze unyielding, as he stared down at the no longer giggling children. "It is my job to mold you into the adult witches and wizards you will one day become, and as you learn the mysteries of magic at Hogwarts, you will obey by my rules. The powers we are capable of are powerful, and at times incredibly dangerous. I do not look kindly on reckless children who conflate youth with invincibility."

With that, Snape began to list his many rules, so many that Harry couldn't keep up. No experimenting with magic without express permission and supervision. No playing with potions. No trying spells whose effects you didn't know. No running in the hallways. No magic in the hallways. No doing magic while running in the hallways. Chores every weekend; lights out for each year at times Dudley hadn't gone to bed at since he was five. Again and again, Snape stressed that they did not want to embarrass the great house of Slytherin in front of the school in any way, and that any violation of the rules would be seen as such. On and on it went until Snape's expression, while still unmistakably steely, softened somewhat. "It's an honor to be a Slytherin. You may not be coddled here, but you will achieve things others only dream of. I look forward to witnessing it."

With that, he turned and strode from the room, his academic robes billowing behind him. The common room remained silent for a long moment, then erupted into giggles and raucous conversation.

"He's lightened up a bit this term, hasn't he?" a blonde girl Harry guessed was in her fifth or sixth year said. "That speech was positively cuddly compared to last year's."

"I thought he might have us sit in a circle and hold hands and sing!" a voice further away carried over, to loud laughter.

"D'you think Bole set a new record?" someone asked, to which the reply was, "Nah, remember when Derrick flicked peas at last year's start-of-term feast and they hit McGonagall?"

Harry glanced around- after such a severe speech, he'd expected everyone to shuffle off to bed in silence. Instead they were even more comfortable than they'd been before, and the way they referred to the foreboding man who'd just swooped in sounded downright affectionate.

"Don't take him too seriously," Higgs said, glancing down at his expression. "Well, no, take him seriously, unless you're mental- he follows through with his threats. But really, he's all right, and he's more bark than bite."

"Speak for yourself," a third year Harry had heard called Benjamin Clarke argued. "I'm still suffering after he caught me filching his answer key for our finals."

"Your own bloody fault!" and various variations thereof came from all around them.

Harry smiled to himself, and was surprised at just how tired he was. It had been a long night and all he wanted was to get some sleep, plus people kept staring at him. The older Slytherins were doing their best not to, and they lightly thwapped the shoulders of younger students who did openly, but it didn't change the fact that he was in the same house that he knew produced dark wizards, or the fact that everyone knew him for being the one to somehow destroy the darkest wizard there ever was.

What was he doing here?

Severus stalked through the dungeon corridors even more quickly than usual. His thoughts were swirling at such a pace that it was the only thing he could do to attempt to keep up with them. He was on his way back from Dumbledore's office, having headed there straight after delivering his usual speech in the common room. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in bed and stew with his thoughts until morning, but the familiar figure waiting outside his study was a sign that fate wasn't going to be that forthcoming. He came to a stop in front of her.

Minerva stared at him. He stared at Minerva.

"Well," he said, after several long moments had passed, then gestured to his study door. "Shall we?"

"Yes, please."

They didn't quite get drunk, but something close to it.

Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, taking in the dormitory. He'd been half-expecting it to be a cold, narrow cell with bars on the doors and windows, but the room was spacious enough to hold six fairly large beds, three on each side, and the thick rugs and ornate tapestries made things seem less barren. Two large windows on the far wall peered out into the depths of the lake exactly like the photos of the aquarium Harry had seen, if the aquarium had been located in the dormitory of a school for magic. Something dark and unidentifiable floated by, and Harry jumped slightly in excitement as his eyes darted after it.

The other boys murmured among themselves. From their familiarity, Harry gathered they'd known one another for years. He sat in silence, wondering how to break into the conversation, or if doing so was even a good idea, when he accidentally made eye contact with Goyle.

They stared at each other and the room fell silent. Finally, Goyle shrugged, gestured at his finger, and said, "It feels a lot better now, I guess. Sorry I tried to take your Chocolate Frogs."

"That's all right," Harry said, unsure of what else to say. "I'm glad your finger's better."

The others were slowly relaxing despite themselves, except Malfoy, who stared at Goyle in disgust and said, "Don't bother with him. He thinks he's better than us. He doesn't like Slytherins."

Harry rolled his eyes and didn't attempt to argue, instead flopping on his back.

"But he is a Slytherin."

Like the common room, there was a faint green glow illuminating everything. As uncomfortable as the situation was, he couldn't deny the decor was better than anything at 4 Privet Drive. The bed was far more comfortable than anything Harry had ever experienced, and it wasn't just because he was exhausted.

"Did you really defeat the Dark Lord?" Crabbe asked abruptly.

"Wow," a boy named Blaise Zabini asked from his own bed. "Diving right in, are we?"

"If we're going to live with him for seven years we've got to know," Theodore Nott said, as Crabbe nodded rapidly and said, "We've got to."

Harry debated climbing out of bed, wandering the dungeons until he found Professor Snape, and telling him he'd like to go back home now, please. But being out of bed after hours was a big no-no according to Snape's rules, and Harry didn't want to cross him. Besides, he could take this.

"I don't know," he admitted at last. "That's what everyone says. But I was a baby, so I don't remember anything."

"Anything?" Zabini asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Just... just a green flash of light sometimes," Harry said with a shrug, and they all blanched, then stared at him with unabashed fascination. Even Malfoy, who quickly regained his composure.

"So?" he asked loftily, closing the lid of an expensive looking trunk. "You did something when you were a baby. The real question is, can you do it now?"

"Depends," Harry shot back. "On how far I'm pushed."

Zabini and Goyle erupted into laughter, followed shortly by Nott and Crabbe. Malfoy just glowered at him and got into bed. No one pushed the issue any further.

Shortly before turning out the lights, Harry turned to Goyle, who seemed to be the most open to his presence, and whispered, "Did his dad really support Voldemort?"

Goyle stiffened at Harry's use of the dark wizard's name, but didn't acknowledge it, instead looking at Harry with a look that was something like pity, but not quite.

"Be honest," Harry insisted. "Did he?"

"Potter," Goyle finally said. "Almost all our dads did."

Harry stared at him.

"Don't take it personally," Goyle assured him before getting into bed. "We'll try not to hold things against you if you don't hold things against us."

"I just never expected it," Minerva said as she sipped at her third glass of wine. "Both his parents, their whole families... all Gryffindors. I suppose I just took it for granted I'd get him."

"His father's side have mainly been Gryffindors, true," Snape said, his expression determinedly neutral. "But his mother was the only magical person in her family. Though I suppose you could argue by that logic, one hundred percent of her branch of the family were in Gryffindor. Until now, that is."

Minerva stared intently at Severus, as though trying to gauge his true emotions.

"Stop trying to analyze me," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's not ideal, I'll give you that. But I'm not going to treat the boy differently than any Slytherin."

"That poor boy," Minerva couldn't help but tease. "But honestly, Severus, your history with his father..."

She trailed off. They rarely spoke about those years, or the fact that Minerva had been in a position of authority while it had gone on, but every so often it settled over them like a lead weight. As always, they ignored it as best they could.

"You have my word." Severus stood up to retrieve his bottle of scotch; his drink needed refreshing. "The boy's father was a fool, but they're not the same person. I do know that, Minerva. For God's sake, do you take me for the kind of irrational idiot who allows his emotions to run wild?"

"Certainly not," Minerva said. Her tone was dry, but the corners of her mouth twitched. "In fact, I'd go as far as to say absolutely not."

"Good. I wouldn't accept any other answer."

"I do wonder why he was placed into Slytherin," Minerva said after a moment's silence. "I'm not knocking it, Severus, I'm really not, but..."

"We do get quite a few of the dark ones, don't we?" Severus agreed. "Pity it means the entire house is a breeding ground for evil."

"I didn't say that." Minerva fixed a sharp gaze on him. "I don't believe that."

You did once, Severus thought, but let the thought go. He'd once been a Death Eater, after all. The past was a strange place, one that was important to look back on but never live in. Though sometimes one couldn't help but remember.

"I didn't say you did," he conceded, then nodded at her nearly empty glass. "More?"

She hesitated, then motioned for him to fill the glass halfway. He obliged, filling it slightly past that point. Minerva lightly swatted his hand but didn't try to stop him.

"What did Albus have to say about everything?"

"I'm sure he'll tell you when you seek him out for more information later tonight." Severus shrugged. "It was just the usual blather about it being good for the inter-house unity he loves to preach but never actually practices."

In fact, Dumbledore had said very little aside from the aforementioned excitement toward this being a chance to somehow bring the houses together, and though his mood was congenial and friendly Severus could see he was deep in thought. He didn't share any of what he chose to ponder over, nor seem terribly worried Severus would take out any lingering grudges on the boy- "Don't be ridiculous, my boy, I know you would never do that"- instead keeping the bulk of his thoughts private.

"He didn't say much," Severus admitted as Minerva continued to stare at him. "Just that he's had an unhappy time of it with the Muggles, only just found out he was a wizard, and to keep an eye on him."

"I've no doubt you will," Minerva said with a short laugh, though her expression darkened slightly at Severus's admission that the boy's home life was less than ideal. "I don't think you've ever let a Slytherin get away with anything."

Despite himself, Severus's lips turned up into a small smile and lowered himself back into his armchair. "One can dream."

For a long while they sat in silence, pondering the events of the evening.

"Which house were you expecting?" Minerva finally asked. "Really."

"Gryffindor." Severus was honest. "Absolutely Gryffindor. From the moment I saw him."

Minerva shook her head ruefully. "The resemblance is uncanny, isn't it?"

"Spitting," Severus said, his voice clipped. "But I suppose it is what it is."

"And his eyes..." Minerva trailed off. "I'm sorry, Severus."

Again, he rolled his eyes, though there was no denying the pang in his chest. Of course he wasn't still pining for Lily Evans, but she'd been his first crush- his first friend. And the reason she'd died was-

No. None of that. The past was the past. Severus thought of the girl Lily Evans had been, then turned back to Minerva. "She was a remarkable woman. Hopefully he's inherited her intellect."

Minerva gazed at him with a look he couldn't quite identify, then nodded, her expression changing to what Severus was disgusted to realize was something akin to respect.

"Oh, come now, enough of that," he said, tilting his head back and polishing off his drink. "We're not that tipsy."

Harry stood in the narrow corridor, frozen in place. He could have sworn he was supposed to turn right, then left to get back to his dorm from the lavatory, but something had gone wrong and now he stood at a three way intersection he was certain he hadn't passed before. He didn't know much about Professor Snape, but he was certain that any explanations would be moot and he'd be summarily hurled off the tallest tower if he were discovered so far from his dorm this late.

"Lost?"

Harry's head whipped around, and he gasped as he found himself staring at the same horrible ghost he'd seen earlier that night. The Bloody Baron was, as his name implied, covered in silvery blood that matched the rest of his hue. Although his gaunt face seemed blank, his eyes were fixed on Harry.

"Yes," Harry admitted quietly. "I had to use the toilet and now I can't find my dorm."

The Bloody Baron motioned with his chin that Harry was to follow, and he glided off in the direction Harry had come. Harry quickly followed.

"Have you been a ghost for long?" he asked, feeling as though it would be polite to offer up some sort of conversation instead of walking in silence.

The Bloody Baron didn't look at him. "Yes."

"How long?"

Another long silence. "Quite long."

"Is it fun?"

The Bloody Baron just stared at him, and Harry fell silent until their surroundings looked familiar once more. Before long they were back in the stretch of hallway that housed the boys' dorms.

"Thank you," Harry said, grateful. "I appreciate your help."

The Bloody Baron just nodded and glided off, past a dark figure whose presence turned Harry's insides to ice. Professor Snape stared at him from the doorway that led to the common room.

"S- sorry, sir," Harry said. "I got lost on my way back from..."

"Quiet, you foolish boy," Snape said before he could finish. "Thank you, Baron."

The Bloody Baron, though out of sight by now, let out a sound not unlike a hacking cough in response.

"Sorry," Harry said again, then quickly added, "Sir."

"I'm aware that even the famous Harry Potter needs to relieve his bladder sometimes," Severus said, his words dripping with sarcasm, but Harry was surprised to find no real malice behind them. "Go to sleep, you idiot child."

"Y- Yes, sir."

Snape stared down into the boy's face for a long moment, scanning over his face, then directly gazing into his eyes. Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"You're not going to be treated differently from anyone else," Snape said at last. "I hope you realize that."

"I... wouldn't want to be, sir," Harry said truthfully, thinking of how he'd always been treated differently in school because of Dudley- and of how the boys in his dorm looked at him because of Voldemort.

"Good," was all Snape said to this, and as he turned to leave he added, "If I catch you wandering the hallways after hours again, you'll deeply regret it."

"Yes, sir," Harry said quickly.

"And stop acting like a timid rabbit. You're embarrassing yourself."

"Yes, sir," Harry said again, with more confidence than he actually possessed.

It was enough for Snape, however, who gave him only the most perceptible of nods before sweeping off the way he'd come. Harry walked back into his dorm, where either everyone was asleep or pretending to be, and got into bed. This certainly wasn't what he'd been expecting. But somehow it wasn't quite the den of evil he'd thought it would be. Crabbe let out a loud snore that Harry suspected was fake, and it somehow comforted him as he burrowed deeper into his pillows.