Outside the Potion's Classroom
Disclaimed over and over again.
Chapter One
And it begins again. Another year at Hogwarts, another group of simpletons to instruct, and another Sorting Hat song. It was all the same, except for a few minor changes here and there.
Contrary to popular belief, he on occasion found himself enjoying himself in his profession. He enjoyed playing favorites with his Slytherins, he enjoyed watching them plummet the other house Quidditch teams, he enjoyed watching his students' faces crumble when he added yet another six inches to their homework.
Yet he was not such a right bastard that he could deny the tiny flare of pride when he saw that look of realization dawning over a student's face – and knowing he alone was responsible for sharing such information thus unveiling yet another mystery in its own right. Brilliant Potions students were such a rarity he sometimes had to pinch himself to find reality. Of course it had been years since he'd had such a student in his care…
He checked the clock above the classroom door and found the small hand pointing to 'Get to Entrance Hall!' and sighed. He wondered what new students would be in attendance this year. Or, more accurately, what new students he should not allow to handle cauldrons right away.
Like most of the staff at Hogwarts, he did enjoy the sorting. Sometimes, the professors played along, using their own skills of deduction to determine who would get sorted into what house. Minerva was quite good at spotting other lion-hearts, but to the day Dumbledore had everyone beaten. The man did have a reputation of being 'all-knowing' to keep intact, so it was reasonably understandable. Severus would only guess in his head, rather than voice his predictions. It wasn't fair to use legilimency to calculate who would be sorted where anyway.
As he arrived in the Entrance Hall, it was already filled with unfamiliar children being ushered and hushed down by Hagrid, as Dumbledore began his welcome speech. He walked up the staircase to join Minerva, who was glowing despite the constant pursed look she wore. Choosing to remain silent and innocuous, he leaned back against the wall, arms folded across his chest.
The room full of eleven year olds boasted many familiar traits – after teaching for nearly thirty years, he was not surprised to see children of former students anymore. He could see Weasleys in the crowd – no other family line passed down such violent red fair and freckles by choice.
"Costello, Sam!" The Sorting Hat shouted. "Hufflepuff!"
Thirty years of teaching. A very long time for someone who had not intended to teach in the first place. He sighed as he realized that had Voldemort won, he would probably be in no better position than he was now. Mind you, he would probably have freer reign when it came to punishments. Not that he would dare use an Unforgivable on a child, but some NEWT students could have provoked him…
"Hanover, Pamela!"
"Gryffindor!"
More cheering. Minerva was wiping her cheeks. How she could start crying over something like the Sorting was beyond him. Now Minerva was born to teach. She could learn a few things or two on how to maintain class order, but her little Gryffindor cubs adored her without question, and always heeled upon her command. If only she could train them to respect other professors as such…
"Maxwellshire, Thomas!"
"Slytherin!"
He mentally noted that he could probably owl the Maxwellshire family. As pure-blooded Slytherin former students wed. They would more than likely want progress reports on how their son would fair. In recent years the pureblooded students had diminished in quantity and quality. The better students were by far the half-bloods and the odd Muggle-born with unnatural ability. There had been quite a few squibs born as of late, and many Slytherin parents were owling with concerns for their own children's magical ability.
"Salthouse, Katrina!"
"Ravenclaw!"
Finally into the S names. He rubbed his hands together in appreciation. The Sorting had a tendency to deflate…
"Snape, Hadrian!"
What the hell?
Did he hear correctly?
Apparently so. Minerva was staring at him with her mouth open.
He watched transfixed as a small boy from the back pushed through the crowd to the Sorting stool, where he placed the Hat onto of his head of longer than appropriate black curls.
"Ah, half a Gryffindor and half a Slytherin in you! I sense bravery and ambition, but loyalty and diligence above all else…. dare I say your parents will be surprised…Hufflepuff!"
Snape's breath caught. His mind scrambled to gather the facts and his wits. There was a boy with dark fair and pale features with his name being sorted into Hufflepuff. So he did understand clearly the first time.
Severus Snape did the unexpected. He fainted.