Disclaimer-characters belong to JK Rowling, universe belongs to JK Rowling, ideas probably belong to JK Rowling. My description of McGonagall actually belongs to LM Montgomery. The rest of the prose is--I think--mine, so please ask before you print or post.
Author's Notes--Wow...that probably won't happen twice...the second chapter already! I guess Snape can be a demanding guy. Anyway, with luck, this is part of my version of how Snape became a Deatheater and then a spy...and just what his deal is with Harry and the Mauraders...Please leave feedback--it's what we fanfic writers live on, ya know. Thanks. :-)
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Severus knew he needed to talk to James, but he wasn't about to do it in front of the barrel-chested, know-it-all, self-elected commentator, and he wasn't about to ask for some privacy, either. He'd speak to James at the Feast. "Good day, gentlemen," he said with the innate poise his father's family prized and his mother mocked.
The next compartment was empty. Suddenly tired of socializing, Severus slipped gratefully inside. He spent the rest of the afternoon watching scenery fly past, letting it drag him slowly into a near-hypnotic stupor. He didn't even realize the train had stopped until he heard people pushing past the door. Sighing, Severus shook off the urge to stay trapped in sliding landscape like a genie in a bottle and stepped into the chattering midst of the crowd.
"Firs' years," shouted a man twice the size of the stranger on the train. He had a very unlikely thatch of hair. "Fis' years--this way to the boats!"
Severus felt a spark of excitement--and, with a pang of regret, he realized James wasn't radiating his usual closely-controlled electricity at his side. Even as the thought formed, his dark eyes caught a glint of brilliant green through a gap in the crowd, somehow intensifying his awareness of their separation.
Severus hardly noticed the other First Years in his boat--between fascination with the smooth glide of the boat across black glass toward a fortress of fairy lights slowly materializing out of the mists before them and impatience to talk to James he had very little attention for anything else. He let the tide of his classmates carry him into the entry way and up the stairs to be met by a tall, spare witch with a saving something about her face indicative of a sense of humor. Severus instinctively liked her.
She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall and explained they were about to be sorted into their houses. Severus liked the idea that the houses would be like families--he and James would be almost brothers, just like always.
The ceiling in the Great Hall looked just like the night sky--complete with the biggest, roundest red-tinged full moon Severus had ever seen. "Creepy-looking, isn't it?," the boy next to him whispered, looking jittery. "My mum calls it the Trickster Moon. She says it's a sign of Fate working mischief."
This did sound creepy, though Severus wasn't about to admit it. He looked at the boy blankly for a couple of seconds, finally responding, "Interesting."
No one had ever told him how sorting was done; whatever Severus was expecting, the old ragged hat sitting on a stool wasn't it. Still, all the older students and teachers seemed to be eyeing it expectantly. Things got even more unexpected and ridiculous when the hat began to sing. Severus hardly knew what it said--he was too startled by the lack of elegance in the affair to pay much attention.
"Abra, Monte" was called up first. His classmates waited with baited breath to see what would happen to him. The hat sat on his head for a second, then shouted, "Ravenclaw", and that was that. Everyone cheered. Severus didn't think it could possibly be an accurate sorting method, but at least it seemed harmless.
"Black, Sirius," turned out to be the impudent stranger who'd caused so much trouble on the train. "Gryffindor," the hat declared, almost before it touched him. Severus decided that was one thing to dislike about Gryffindor.
"Evans, Lily," was the smallest slip of a redhead. She had a smile that seemed a little wistful. Severus was half-ashamed of his own off-hand thought she'd lose her own shadow if she kept on being that timid. The hat seemed to consider her for ages before it finally announced, "Hufflepuff!" That lot seemed like babes in the woods Severus noted with a twist of his lips. On the other hand, they looked like they'd make nice friends.
"Lupin, Remus has already been sorted due to an illness in the family," Professor McGonagall said, somehow still in the rhythm of her roll. "He will be joining us for classes later in the week." Severus frowned. He didn't know much about Hogwarts, but that sounded rather odd. "He's a Gryffindor," she added, causing the whole table to cheer even though he wasn't there.
The list continued on and on. "Neville, Frank" became a Hufflepuff, "Orsted, Uther" became a Slytherin, "Pettigrew, Peter" a Gryffindor.
"Potter, James" didn't even look at Severus as he took his place on the stool even though Severus was sure he knew he was there. "Gryffindor," the hat announced.
"Great," Severus muttered under his breath, "now we're stuck with Black for 7 years--way to go, Potter." But he knew he didn't really mind. They'd gotten off on the wrong foot, but it was fate and he could accept it...he took his place on the stool to make it official.
"Well, well," said a voice in his ear--or maybe his head, "aren't we sure of ourselves?"
'No,' Severus thought reflexively, 'not really.'
"But with a nice thirst to prove our worth all the same," the hat mused, sounding surprised and fondly amused. Severus blinked. "Brave, yes," the hat added, "but even more cunning. You will surprise everyone, Severus Snape...even yourself."
Severus wanted to ask what that meant, but the hat was already calling out, "Slytherin!"
Author's Notes--Wow...that probably won't happen twice...the second chapter already! I guess Snape can be a demanding guy. Anyway, with luck, this is part of my version of how Snape became a Deatheater and then a spy...and just what his deal is with Harry and the Mauraders...Please leave feedback--it's what we fanfic writers live on, ya know. Thanks. :-)
*********
Severus knew he needed to talk to James, but he wasn't about to do it in front of the barrel-chested, know-it-all, self-elected commentator, and he wasn't about to ask for some privacy, either. He'd speak to James at the Feast. "Good day, gentlemen," he said with the innate poise his father's family prized and his mother mocked.
The next compartment was empty. Suddenly tired of socializing, Severus slipped gratefully inside. He spent the rest of the afternoon watching scenery fly past, letting it drag him slowly into a near-hypnotic stupor. He didn't even realize the train had stopped until he heard people pushing past the door. Sighing, Severus shook off the urge to stay trapped in sliding landscape like a genie in a bottle and stepped into the chattering midst of the crowd.
"Firs' years," shouted a man twice the size of the stranger on the train. He had a very unlikely thatch of hair. "Fis' years--this way to the boats!"
Severus felt a spark of excitement--and, with a pang of regret, he realized James wasn't radiating his usual closely-controlled electricity at his side. Even as the thought formed, his dark eyes caught a glint of brilliant green through a gap in the crowd, somehow intensifying his awareness of their separation.
Severus hardly noticed the other First Years in his boat--between fascination with the smooth glide of the boat across black glass toward a fortress of fairy lights slowly materializing out of the mists before them and impatience to talk to James he had very little attention for anything else. He let the tide of his classmates carry him into the entry way and up the stairs to be met by a tall, spare witch with a saving something about her face indicative of a sense of humor. Severus instinctively liked her.
She introduced herself as Professor McGonagall and explained they were about to be sorted into their houses. Severus liked the idea that the houses would be like families--he and James would be almost brothers, just like always.
The ceiling in the Great Hall looked just like the night sky--complete with the biggest, roundest red-tinged full moon Severus had ever seen. "Creepy-looking, isn't it?," the boy next to him whispered, looking jittery. "My mum calls it the Trickster Moon. She says it's a sign of Fate working mischief."
This did sound creepy, though Severus wasn't about to admit it. He looked at the boy blankly for a couple of seconds, finally responding, "Interesting."
No one had ever told him how sorting was done; whatever Severus was expecting, the old ragged hat sitting on a stool wasn't it. Still, all the older students and teachers seemed to be eyeing it expectantly. Things got even more unexpected and ridiculous when the hat began to sing. Severus hardly knew what it said--he was too startled by the lack of elegance in the affair to pay much attention.
"Abra, Monte" was called up first. His classmates waited with baited breath to see what would happen to him. The hat sat on his head for a second, then shouted, "Ravenclaw", and that was that. Everyone cheered. Severus didn't think it could possibly be an accurate sorting method, but at least it seemed harmless.
"Black, Sirius," turned out to be the impudent stranger who'd caused so much trouble on the train. "Gryffindor," the hat declared, almost before it touched him. Severus decided that was one thing to dislike about Gryffindor.
"Evans, Lily," was the smallest slip of a redhead. She had a smile that seemed a little wistful. Severus was half-ashamed of his own off-hand thought she'd lose her own shadow if she kept on being that timid. The hat seemed to consider her for ages before it finally announced, "Hufflepuff!" That lot seemed like babes in the woods Severus noted with a twist of his lips. On the other hand, they looked like they'd make nice friends.
"Lupin, Remus has already been sorted due to an illness in the family," Professor McGonagall said, somehow still in the rhythm of her roll. "He will be joining us for classes later in the week." Severus frowned. He didn't know much about Hogwarts, but that sounded rather odd. "He's a Gryffindor," she added, causing the whole table to cheer even though he wasn't there.
The list continued on and on. "Neville, Frank" became a Hufflepuff, "Orsted, Uther" became a Slytherin, "Pettigrew, Peter" a Gryffindor.
"Potter, James" didn't even look at Severus as he took his place on the stool even though Severus was sure he knew he was there. "Gryffindor," the hat announced.
"Great," Severus muttered under his breath, "now we're stuck with Black for 7 years--way to go, Potter." But he knew he didn't really mind. They'd gotten off on the wrong foot, but it was fate and he could accept it...he took his place on the stool to make it official.
"Well, well," said a voice in his ear--or maybe his head, "aren't we sure of ourselves?"
'No,' Severus thought reflexively, 'not really.'
"But with a nice thirst to prove our worth all the same," the hat mused, sounding surprised and fondly amused. Severus blinked. "Brave, yes," the hat added, "but even more cunning. You will surprise everyone, Severus Snape...even yourself."
Severus wanted to ask what that meant, but the hat was already calling out, "Slytherin!"