Dumbledore had told Severus how hard it would be, to face the child of someone he hated so much. To face the offspring of someone who had ruined his entire existence. But nothing could have prepared Severus for what he would feel the first time he set eyes on Harry Potter. Never would he have felt that much hate since that fateful day over a decade before, that one day which had released him from what he thought would be a lifelong feeling of pain and anger. Little had Severus known that Harry Potter would bring that feeling back.

As Severus sat on a sofa in his private library reflecting on this, he looked back to the feast which, he reminded himself, would still be going on two floors above him. As soon as he could, Severus had excused himself and made his way to his office and down the hidden flight of stairs which led to his own quarters.

Harry Potter, from the moment he had entered the Great Hall that evening, had captivated Severus' attention, everything about him screaming of his father. His stupid glasses, his messy black hair, the way he seemed to lap up the attention everyone in the school was giving him. Even his far-too-skinny physique was just like his father's. Everything reminded Severus of Potter, except his eyes. His eyes were Lily's and, as Severus realised this, he had scowled. No eyes that beautiful belonged in a face of someone that…sadistic, bullying, that…

And so Severus had looked away from Professor Quirrel, the snivelling wreck of a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and had given Potter the dirtiest, evilest, lip-curling, brow-furrowing, flower-wilting, stone-turning look he had been able to muster; and Severus, being himself, could give a damn good evil stare. Severus liked to think that Potter had been unnerved by it, for he immediately clapped his hand to his ugly scar and turned away. Severus' lip curled at the memory: trust a Potter to draw attention to anything which made them different; anything which made them 'special'.

Severus sighed and contemplated the lesson he would have to teach the next Friday: first year Potions with Gryffindor and Slytherin. At least, he thought with a small and malicious smile, he would have a chance to pop Potter's rapidly swelling head, and show him the clear superiority of Slytherin House against Gryffindor egos.

>

Severus started the lesson, as was the typical Hogwarts practice, by taking the register. He paused at Potter's name and smirked.

"Ah, yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity."

Severus noticed the sniggers of the Slytherin and smiled, satisfied. The Malfoy boy would prove a worthwhile adversary for Potter and his cronies. The trouble with Potter in Severus' day had been the lack of anyone willing or capable of taking him down. Severus would make sure that, this time, there was always someone to bring Potter down to where he belonged.

When he had finished taking the register, Severus looked up at the class. He spoke, coldly and precisely.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He did not deign to speak in any more than a whisper, for he knew that the class would catch every word. He had the gift, like all successful teachers, of keeping a class silent without effort. It was all about respect, something which certain members of this class would have to learn immediately if they wished to succeed at Hogwarts. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Severus looked directly at Potter, making it perfectly clear that, in this instance, he was nothing but normal.

"Potter!" he said suddenly, alarming several members of the class, including a bushy-haired Gryffindor girl who was almost falling off her seat in anticipation. He barely tried to stop himself rolling his eyes and giving her a sneer. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Potter glanced at the lanky boy beside him, who could only be a Weasley. Severus was pleased to see that both idiots looked completely stumped. Now was his first chance to make Potter look like a fool in front of all his classmates. The girl's hand shot up, and Severus checked his register. Granger.

"I don't know, sir," Potter said. Ah, a little respect. This was a welcome surprise.

Severus' lips curled into a sneer. "Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything." He ignored Granger's hand. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Granger stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Potter evidently didn't have a clue what a bezoar was. Severus noticed Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter, and smirked.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Ah, revenge was sweet… Clearly Potter, unlike Miss Granger, had not memorised everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. Really, the pathetic little twerp set himself up for ridicule.

Severus was still ignoring Granger's quivering hand. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

To Severus' annoyance, the Granger girl actually stood up at this point, her hand stretching towards the dungeon ceiling. "I don't know," said Potter quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Several people laughed, but Severus was not amused. He was livid. "Sit down," he snapped at Granger. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?" Severus had lost his cool, and cursed silently. However, this outburst seemed to have caused the desired effect, as the sudden rummaging for quills and parchment told him. "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter." That was the jewel in the crown: loss to Gryffindor purely because of Potter. With any luck, his housemates would remember that.

Severus put the class into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around criticising almost everyone in the class, pleased to see the awe his billowing black cloak seemed to inspire in the impressionable first-years. He was careful, however, not to criticise Malfoy. His confidence should be built, not flattened if he was to bring down Potter. His father, Lucius, was also a useful ally to have, and if Draco's favourite teacher was Severus Snape, he would be in a lot of people's favour. In fact, he decided to mention the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs, but as he was in mid-flow, clouds of acid-green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon.

Longbottom, the great fat imbecile, had managed to melt his partner's cauldron into a twisted blob and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, Severus' carefully ordered discipline was in tatters as the whole class stood on their stools while Longbottom, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" Severus snarled, clearing the spilled potion away with one sweep of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?" It was an elementary mistake, but not one that Severus was willing to tolerate. Simple mistakes could not be made in a Potions class.

Longbottom whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him to the hospital wing," Severus spat at Longbottom's Gryffindor partner. Then he rounded on Potter and Weasley, eager to take his frustration out on someone. Having been working next to Longbottom, the gruesome twosome provided an easy target. "You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor." Severus knew this was unfair, but he didn't care. He merely stood and watched as Weasley stopped Potter from opening his arrogant, stupid mouth again.

Wise move, Weasley he thought, and smiled as he heard Weasley say "Don't push it. I've heard Snape can turn very nasty." A lesson Potter would need to learn.

Not a long 'un I'm afraid, but what can I say? I'm ill at home and have been for a couple of days, and for some reason I just couldn't get inside our dear Sevvy's head... Anyway, thanks to those who reviewed - I was never expecting this to be a big hit, but I wrote it for the sake of my imagination.

vegetarians will rule Nope, you're not gonna understand. my aim isn't to make you understand either, which is probably a good thing as by now I would have miserably failed. i'm piecing together this story by randomly grabbing at bits of Snape's history, so it's up to you how you interpret it. Thank you, you made my day! No reviews were expected... Oh, and vegetarians DO rule. Fish are friends, not food...love the animals.

risi Yep, Snape and any 14-year-old, never mind Hermione, would be EW! I'm hoping to explain gradually, but needless to say it will stay a little strange. Good theories, and you made me think - I re-read HBP recently and I've had to make a few alterations to where this is going, all related to things you pointed out. Hope you carry on reading!

The Fifth Elephant Freak Yeah, ingenious and original name...NOT. Haha Ciz, you do make me laugh...gone back in time and had a sex change? Seriously,I nearly pissed myself at the thought of a female Sev. Actually, I'm surprised you didn't either come up with the right theory immediately or point out the fatal flaw in my plotline. Oh well, blame it on the Pratchett I guess. And no more fags for me. But cookies are good. Mmm...cookies...

I'm hoping to get another chapter up in the next day or so which won't be treading over JK's ground, so don't judge this as the latest installment! They come in twos: Snape, and...whoever or whatever I feel like; things we know, and things my twisted little brain made up. Blame it on too much chocolate/herbal tea/being in bed. Either way, you know the best way to spped my recovery up - review!

Becca