Skipping forward to the next night, we find our dear friend Severus sitting at a table in the great hall...playing with a drumstick. The ceremony was taking a longer time than usual to start. Severus reached under the table to check if he was wearing his lucky boxers tonight, then remembered two things:
1) he was wearing a robe
2) he was always wearing his lucky boxers
And so, contentedly, he waited for the ceremony to start. The first person that got called was a girl. Her face was pink, which is not the way faces should be, Severus thought, and she was-she had...what was that word? BLONDE hair.
Severus was the head of Slytherin house at this weird school, which he always forgot the name of. But that wasn't the point. The point was, he hoped the pink girl would not be put in his house. Luckily, the hat agreed with him. "HUFFLEPUFF!" it shouted. It was then that Severus collapsed into a fit of silent giggles. Professor Sprout glared at him from down the staff table.
A few students later came a bush-haired girl with big annoying teeth. She looked like a promising enough student to drive you insane. Severus wished he had his black notebook with him. It was just his luck. The one night he forgot the stupid thing there was a whole new batch of students to make fun of. Really, it was killing him! As the bush-hair got sorted into Gryffindor, Severus tapped on Dumbledore, who turned towards him.
"Headmaster?"
"Yes, Severus?"
"Could I-ah-excuse myself for a moment? Nature calls, you know."
But Dumbledore just stared at him with that maddening twinkle in his eye until Severus was forced to look away. What was it with that twinkle anyways? As Severus gazed longingly at the door to the great hall, a pointy faced boy that looked like a brat got sorted into Slytherin. Why do they stick me with all the bad ones? Severus thought. Then he looked at the remaining students waiting to be sorted. Never mind.
The next boy stepped forward, looking worried, and Severus had a near heart failure. He also had a powerful flashback that will interrupt this story.
POWERFUL FLASHBACK THAT WILL INTERRUPT THIS STORY:
Severus remembered when he was a student himself. He knew some kids named Potter-the-Great, Porky Pettigrew, Stupid-ass Black, and Werewolf Dude. Their favorite hobbies included publicly humiliating Severus, failing important tests, putting dungbombs in Severus's belongings, flirting with girls who were either disgusted or numb as a board, calling Severus names, being too good for the girls that actually liked them, putting cat urine in Severus's ink bottles, almost killing themselves, setting Severus's homework on fire, breaking rules and getting away with it, reminding Severus he was ugly, and bragging. They were of a species called Popular.
END OF POWERFUL FLASHBACK THAT WILL INTERRUPT THIS STORY.
Now, whether you care or not whether Severus got over his shock, he did. And found that no one had even noticed his momentary paralysis. The reason he had the flashback he did, was because the boy getting sorted had the last name of Potter. And Severus vaguely remembered Dumbledore telling him to be prepared, because Potter-the-Great's son would be coming to the weird school soon. Severus had taken heed, and now kept a double-headed battleaxe in his office. Still—the shock was tremendous.
The hat was still trying to sort Potter-the-unknown. Severus noticed that he was a four eyes. He also noticed that "the hour doth grow late." He was going to pick up a cup and bang it on the table to get things moving, but Dumbledore just gave him another twinkly look and forced his hand back down on the table. Severus got mopey. This day was a bummer.
The hat finally sorted Potter-the-waster-of-time into Gryffindor. "I knew it," grumped Severus, fidgeting with the tablecloth. Potter-the-Great and all his old acquaintances had been in Gryffindor. "sh-sh-sh-shush," Professor Quirrell finally spit out. Severus glared at him. He had suspicions about the guy. Why did he wear a turban on his head? And why did Severus's dark mark burn every time he looked at him? Quirrell was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Severus had signed up for that job long before Quirrell, but Quirrell had been picked anyways. He thought Dumbledore must really enjoy playing favorites.
Meanwhile, all of the great hall was cheering. They cheered longer than they had cheered for anyone else, Severus thought, and everyone was whispering about him too.
The next guy to get sorted was a carrot-top Weasley. Severus thought there must be a hundred of those. He wondered how their mother did it. The Weasley got sorted into Gryffindor as well. As Professor McGonagall called another name, Severus yawned. He wondered how she could stand up there for so long, putting an old hat on the heads of about 40 children, and not lose her patience...or need to sit down. He asked Professor Flitwick what time it was and groaned. He was missing his favorite wizarding radio soap opera, just when it had been getting exciting. He wondered if Trent had run away yet, or if Libya had professed her undying love to Pebbles Johnson.
Finally, the ceremony was over, and the food appeared on all the tables. Dumbledore said he wanted to say a few words. Severus straightened up. He liked hearing the words he picked each year.
"Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!" Dumbledore said. Severus chuckled, then looked out across the tables of students enjoying their meals. "S-so...what's y-your f-f-favorite col-l-lor?" Quirrell asked him, trying to make friends and failing miserably. Severus ignored him. Potter-the-new -Gryffindor was looking at him intently. Severus returned the favor by staring back at him. Then the strangest thing happened. Potter-with-no-manners flinched backwards and broke away from his gaze, as if he had been maimed. Severus frowned. Either the guy wasn't right in the head, or there was something going on that Severus didn't know about. He thought about it as he dug into his peas.
a/n: so tell me what you think everyone, c'mon, press the little button, you know you want to! I really do need to know if I should continue this.