a/n: just a disclaimer before this one starts up: some of the lines in here that characters say are not mine, since this story parallels the book as far as events go ;) Don't sue me.
The next day was Sorting, which Severus was less than substantially excited about.
Sometime in the afternoon of this accursed day, someone tried to stuff a copy of the Evening Prophet under his door and gave up halfway. Severus stood close to his door and listened for breathing, then opened it after counting to five mississippis to make sure whoever it was had left. The Prophet made a ripping noise, still caught under the door, and he had to yank the thing out. The headline blared something about FLYING FORD ANGLIA MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. Severus stared at it, then turned, went inside and chucked the weird news on his desk. Then he took some pepto because his insides felt squirmy and tried to take a nap, but kept sweating too much and thrashing on his sheets, one of which he swore had a house elf pee stain on it.
Much later that evening, Severus made his way down to the Great Hall for the Sorting, his stomach making rumble noises. To distract himself on the way, he sung that weird sisters song that was seriously stuck in his head real silent. When he got to the verses, he mumbled a bunch of random noises since he didn't actually know the words, and then belted out the chorus one more time. Whenever someone passed him, Severus canned it and waited until they were a safe distance away to start up his engines again, so to speak. Except soon a lot of people started passing him, and he kept having to start the chorus over, so he stopped that activity, all grumpy-like. McGonagall scooted up next to him.
"All ready for a new year, Severus?" she chuckled at him.
Severus nodded, trying not to look encouraging.
"I can't wait for the new first years to come walking through the doors," she honked, shaking her head and looking awkwardly stern for someone who claimed to be excited.
"That makes one of us," Severus muttered at her, then beelined it for the Great Hall before she could say anything else. He wondered whether it would be better to just take a large bathroom break, since his insides were getting more threatening with every step and Severus had a fear of throwing up in public.
The Great Hall was crammed with students second through seventh years, all making such a ruckus that Severus's headache came back full force. All the tables looked crammed and he thought maybe they shouldn't have invited any first years to clog this place up even more, though he imagined it was a lot of tears and drama to explain that no one would be a wizard that year.
Severus planned to ask Dumbledore for a hall pass or whatever, but when he got to the Headmaster, Dumbledore was too busy cackling outrageously loud at one of Flitwick's jokes, which were actually never funny.
"Excuse me," he said, standing across the staff table from them. Dumbledore's face was red and it looked like he would choke on his appetizer biscuit.
"We're talking, here, Snape," Flitwick said, pushing back a little from the table angrily. Severus saw a joke book open on his lap.
"Now, now," Dumbledore scolded no one in particular and wiped his eyes with a strangled hoot, apparently forgetting he had glasses and knocking them into Trelawney's porridge in the process. "Severus needs to do grounds duty tonight, Filius, so I'm sure he's going to do that in a minute."
Severus stared at Dumbledore blankly. Dumbledore stared back in the regular twinkly fashion, not giving him any clues here.
"My robes are aquamarine!" The Macaroni Head bleated, quite out of the blue.
"Praytell, what is grounds duty?" Severus finally ground out, feeling generally pissy at this whole dumb situation.
"I just made it up," said Dumbledore, still smiling at him. "Didn't you see the schedule?"
"Schedule?"
Severus turned to where Dumbledore was pointing and saw a piece of looseleaf paper stapled crookedly to the door of the Great Hall. He was sure that hadn't been there when he came in.
"I put it up just a minute ago," Dumbledore went on. He then raised his voice a little higher and stared around the staff table. "It is the responsibility of ALL staff members to check the schedule every night."
Professor Sprout nodded, looking in firm agreement. Severus didn't remember asking for her opinion.
"If it wasn't up there until—
"Severus, please," said Dumbledore. Professor Sprout was still nodding.
"Fine," he breathed out his nose, feeling his stomach give another rumble. "What exactly is grounds duty then?"
Dumbledore chortled, though Severus couldn't see what was so funny about that. Flitwick cracked the hell up and at first Severus got really pissy until he realized Flitwick was staring down at his book, cracking up in anticipation of his next joke.
"You go out on the grounds, Severus, and make sure that all the first years get in all right. Then I want you to see if you can find Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. They do not seem to have arrived on the school train today, and I would like to set my mind at ease that they are not lost. I am hoping they are with Hagrid, or else I shall have to contact their respective homes, and I don't want any parents getting worried."
Severus digested this juicy-strange bit of news, then turned to face the Gryffindor table. Sure enough, Potter-the-stupidly-unpredictable and his crusty cohort The Weasley were nowhere to be found. Their only other friend, the Bush Hair, was sitting lonesomely in her seat and gnawing a bread roll through her tears.
Actually, Severus couldn't see any tears, but he just assumed for the sake of the image.
"Ah," he said. "In that case, I will…"
But he couldn't say anything more, because the urge was strong upon him. Severus bolted for the door to the Great Hall once more, trying not to look at all the students he felt like were staring at him, and came out into the courtyard, where he promptly heaved up his last meal, whatever and whenever the hell that had been.
After he straightened up, Severus checked that no one had observed him and noticed how it was about one degree Fahrenheit out here. He heard noises coming from somewhere across the grounds and saw Hagrid bringing the first years across the lake. Severus always wondered why that had to happen, since they could just cut around it and save a lot of time.
Hagrid finally lumbered ashore and nearly hit a kid in the face with his lantern. He led them past where Severus stood next to his frozen barf and began to let them inside, not noticing Severus. His coat was ridiculously large and made Severus jealous, since his one moderately heavy cloak was still lying woefully in his room. Potter-the-missing-in-attendance and his ginger friend were very clearly not with Hagrid, so Severus didn't know what further purpose he had here. Dumbledore said to make sure all the first years got inside, but that was a really dumb idea since how was Severus supposed to know how many first years there were in the first place? Maybe Dumbledore didn't trust Hagrid.
Hagrid led the last of the students in the door and then closed it and turned to go back to his hut. Severus had spontaneously decided to stay hidden and did just that, pretending he was a refugee on the run and pushing himself into a shadowy corner of the courtyard.
Hagrid paused and seemed to stare at something on the ground, and too late Severus realized it was his own puke. Severus thought he was caught, but Hagrid leaned down and scraped a sample of it, muttering to himself about unicorns. He went away really fast, leaving Severus alone in the cold once more. Severus was just about to call it quits when he heard a loud ruckus of rumble-bang sounds coming from somewhere around the other side of the school. He decided not to check it out, and leaned against the courtyard wall, feeling dizzy again. He thought that maybe Potter-who-doesn't-get-basic-concepts hadn't realized that summer was over, or better yet, maybe he had decided just not to come back at all. Two spells wouldn't get the kid very far in life anyway, and Severus was genuinely sure he'd passed his learning capacity. The Weasley, who Severus was sure had never had a learning capacity to begin with, was following along in the way robot supplements tended to do.
Severus was just about giddy at the thought of no Potter-who-everyone's-obsessed-with back at school, and when his stomach rumbled the next time, it wasn't because he needed to upchuck. Severus realized he was hungry, and also realized that he hadn't eaten at all this day. Severus turned to go inside before he got frostbite here, and he had almost reached the door when he heard voices coming around the school towards him. Severus froze and watched in horror as Potter-who-shows-up-at-the-worst-times and The Weasley rounded the bend. Severus freaked out and ran around the other side of the castle from them, in order to sneak attack from a better angle. He'd forgotten how large the castle actually was, because he walked a long distance, stopping to dry-heave occasionally , and to worry that when he reached the other side, Potter-the-dilemma-maker wouldn't be there anymore. Severus passed the Whomping Willow on the way around. It was making hurt sounds and thrashing wildly at nothing. A bunch of broken branches lay on the ground next to it.
Severus didn't ask. He had bad experiences with that dumb tree in the past, and had once asked Dumbledore if he could just cut the thing down already like George Washington did with that cherry tree once, but Dumbledore told him that the Whomping Willow was valuable since he'd won it from a daily raffle on his favorite radio station two billion years ago. Of course, it turned out that Dumbledore was hiding a werewolf under that tree when Severus was in school, something that Severus found out the hard way. Severus gave the tree a hard look when he passed it, wondering if it was causing so much commotion because once again, there was a werewolf under there, when it all came together for him.
Potter-the-genuinely-insane was still there when Severus came around the other side of the school. He and The Weasley were really lagging here. They were just staring in the window to the Great Hall and talking in loud volumes about something. Severus edged closer and heard his name.
"…Where's Snape?" Potter-the-inappropriately-nosy asked.
"Maybe he's ill!" The Weasley said. Severus thought it was the only time he'd heard The Weasley guess correctly at anything. His stomach flip-flopped at him, but he moved closer. Potter-the-gossip-spreader was talking about how he'd probably left since he couldn't get the Defense job again, which really steamed Severus up, since where the hell had he even heard that Severus applied every year?
"Or he might have been sacked!" The Weasley screamed, "I mean, everyone hates him—
"Or maybe," Severus butted in quickly, deciding that he'd had quite enough of that, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."
The Weasley and Potter-the-extremely-nosy ceased their smack talk and turned around at a rate of something something milliseconds. Severus almost burst out laughing at their faces. He wished he had a camera or something.
"Follow me," he smirked at them, trying to move his hand to point inside. Unfortunately, his hand was not responding to any orders this late in the game, so Severus was kind of glad they couldn't see that. He led those total assholes into the entrance hall, where it smelled like a bunch of really good stuff which Severus guessed he would not be eating sometime this century. His stomach made a hollow, despairing noise, which was luckily muffled by the sound of his feet on the dungeon stairs, and then shut up for good.
When Severus reached his office, he moved his still-quite-numb dud hand to open the door and pointed inside. Potter-the-total-joy-suck and The Weasley were standing quite a ways behind, looking mopey.
"In!" he snapped at them, pointing. They took roughly half an hour to do so, and his arm started to ache because for some dumb reason he didn't stop pointing. When they finally pulled their dumb selves into his office, Severus closed the door and glared in their general direction. They were both shivering exaggeratedly. You don't know the meaning of cold! he thought in a dramatic soap opera star voice, before deciding he was getting sidetracked.
"So," he said, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Harry Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, boys?"
"No sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it— The Weasley began, but Severus shushed him. Apparently he didn't know a rhetorical question when he heard one.
"What have you done with the car?" Severus asked them, before either of them could yammer obnoxiously again. When neither of them said anything, he walked to his desk and picked up his ripped Evening Prophet, unrolling it and giving them a good view of whatever the heck picture was even on the front.
"You were seen," he hissed at them before turning the paper over and actually reading what it had to say on the subject. About halfway through, he realized that The Weasley's father was a ministry worker and this would be Oh-So-Bad for him, so he decided why not throw that into the mix for the horror of it? Sure enough, the Weasley didn't seem to have thought of anyone but himself until that very moment, because he was looking nauseous. Potter-who-can't-actually-relate pretended to by looking sickened. Severus thought this was starting to get very promising.
"I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow," Severus continued, not mentioning that this was probably for the best and he sincerely hoped that damn tree died.
The Weasley began to blabber again about how the tree had damaged him and Potter-the-curiously-silent, which Severus didn't even get because with the exception of some lame cut over The Weasley's eye, they looked fine to him.
"Silence!" he snapped at the Weasley, feeling like a broken record. He told them that unfortunately he couldn't expel them but if they sat tight, he would go get the people who could and that would be that. Then he slipped out the door and locked it behind him.
Severus stood in the hall grinning and then walked up the stairs again to the Great Hall. The feast was still in full swing. Humming the Weird Sisters smash hit again under his breath, he tried not to skip up to the staff table. Dumbledore was still laughing his ass off over something Flitwick had said, and Flitwick was panicking because a pea had gone down the wrong pipe and his joke book was being eaten by Mrs. Norris. Severus decided to turn to Professor McGonagall first.
"Minerva," he said, not failing to notice how good the beef steak McGonagall was chowing down on smelled, "It so happens that Potter and Weasley have flown an enchanted car into the Whomping Willow. I trust you will expel them for this."
McGonagall stood up really quick and stared all dignified at Severus over her glasses.
"What is it, Minerva?" Dumbledore asked, between gusts of laughter. Severus told him the whole story again, hoping they would hurry it up here before he died of anticipation.
"I knew it," Dumbledore said. "As soon as I saw that article about the car in the paper, I knew it was Harry." He sounded oddly proud. "Well, I just need to hear one more joke from Filius, here."
Dumbledore turned to a panicked Flitwick, who nearly screamed a knock knock joke at him, and Severus led McGonagall back to his office, thinking about why the hell Dumbledore sent him on that wild goose chase if he knew where those kids were all along.
When they got there, Severus was expecting things would run smoothly, but instead McGonagall just honked at those duncecap boys to explain, which Severus didn't think was entirely necessary since hadn't he just explained it all to her, and so where was the trust in staff relationships? She also lit a fire in Severus's fireplace, which Severus didn't remember asking her to do. He stared at the flames in fear for a second, afraid Lucius's head would pop up at any minute.
The Weasley blabbed and blabbed about how he and Potter-the-astonishingly-numb couldn't get through the King's Cross barrier and so that meant they had to use an enchanted car.
"Why didn't you send us a letter by owl?" McGonagall asked them. "I believe you have an owl?" she directed to Potter-who-definitely-had-an-owl. Severus made a light snort sound in agreement. McGonagall gave him a weird glance out of the corner of her eye.
Potter-with-no-linguistic-skills stuttered about how he didn't think bla blab bla.
"That is obvious," McGonagall said, and Severus felt like crowing with delight but felt like it would be inappropriate at this juncture. Instead, he stared fixedly at the Evening Prophet, pretending to read it. A knock sounded on the door, and he turned around and opened it real quick. It was Dumbledore. Severus tried to mouth what was happening at him, but he just kept standing there and staring at Potter-in-serious-trouble.
"Please explain why you did this," he said. Severus made a groan in his head. This was only the billionth time he would have to listen to this dry story. He flipped a page in the Prophet and frowned at nothing in particular, as Potter-the-suddenly-verbose gave some really long shame-story Severus doubted was one hundred percent accurate. He left out all the trash-talking he and the Weasley had done behind Severus's back, but Severus was so not going to be the crybaby one to mention that.
"We'll go and get our stuff," moaned The Weasley, trying for reverse psychology.
"What are you talking about Weasley?" honked McGonagall, making Severus almost drop his paper.
"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?" The Weasley kept trying.
"Not today, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore suddenly said. Severus did drop his paper this time. No one noticed. Dumbledore blabbed on and on about how serious their crimes were, which, please, what was the point since they weren't even being punished except for Dumbledore writing to their families which was a big whoop-de-doo.
"Eh hem," Severus said, cutting in before this nonsense could go any farther. "Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree—surely acts of this nature—
"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys' punishments, Severus," Dumbledore interrupted him. "They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility."
Severus decided he had no consistency, since didn't he supposedly think the Whomping Willow was the best gift he'd ever received? Once Severus had cut one of its branches off for a potions ingredient and he'd hollered so loud Severus had an earache for a month.
"I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices," Dumbledore continued. Severus's ears felt fuzzy. "Come Severus, there's a delicious looking custard tart I want to sample."
Severus glared at Potter-who-had-probably-already-got-away-with-murder-and-no-one-knew and The Weasley, and left his own office to those miscreants. He followed Dumbledore, who was humming under his breath, thinking how he didn't even like custard and feeling absurdly teary. Stupidly, the Weird Sisters tune was still playing in the back of his head, which made him want to cry more. When they got back up to the feast, Dumbledore passed around one notice which was a piece of construction paper with a diagram of a unicorn on it. Severus was too full of angst to even ask. Then they sat at the staff table where Professor Trelawney kept staring at him and Professor Sprout kept bugging him about "what happened in there" while he picked at a hard cinnamon roll. Dumbledore was devouring about fifty custard tarts next to him.