This was it. Harry and Draco's first lesson with their new Head of House, Professor Snape. From what Harry had been told, Snape was a nasty piece of work who luckily favoured his own house above all others. The class made their way into the classroom and quickly tried to acquire the best seats, Gryffindors as far away from the front as possible and Slytherins as close. Weasley, in his infinite ignorance, had sat at the front, a bulgar scarlet amongst a sea of emerald. Harry soon corrected this, barging Ron out of the way causing him to fall to the floor amongst his second-hand textbooks. Granger hurried to help him up, whilst Harry ushered over Draco and began organising his own textbooks. Weasley shrugged off Hermione's attempt at assistance and turned to scowl at Harry.
"What the bloody hell is your problem Potter? If it wasn't for my mum you wouldn't even be here!" Luckily for Ron, Professor Snape hadn't arrived yet, or else Gryffindor's ourglass would have been severely depleted.
"I know Weasley, and the fact that I had to receive assistance from your family of all people sickens me. I won't make the same mistake twice. Now get to your seat before Snape catches you!" Ron realised how lucky he was that Snape seemed to be late and took a seat at the back next to Neville.
"What was that?"
"What was what?"
"You were kind to that filthy Weasley."
"I told him how much his family sickens me!"
"And then you convinced him to go back to his seat before Snape arrived! Now the Gryffindor and Slytherin hourglasses will be as close as ever."
"Not quite, Mr Malfoy." A quietly menacing voice echoed through the room as Professor Snape emerged from his hiding place in the shadows. He was dressed head to toe in black robes and had long, greasy black hair. His face was indifferent, not dispensing a single emotional response. "Five points from Slytherin for purposefully barging into Mr Weasley, Potter. Twenty points from Gryffindor for raising your voice in my class and being out of your seat, Mr Weasley" Hermione rose to speak. "But sir, Potter clearly provoked-" "Ten points from Ravenclaw, Granger. Leave the heroics to the Gryffindors." The rest of our first potions class was uneventful, aside from Longbottom very nearly requiring a trip to the burns ward of St Mungos. As he and Draco were about to leave, Snape placed a bony hand on Harry's shoulder. What had he done wrong?
"Might I have a word, Mr Potter?" Snape asked, clearly having no intention of allowing Harry to leave until he had done so.
Draco then spoke up, "But sir, if we're late for Transfiguration Mcgonagall will kill us," the disdane for the head of Gryffindor clearly audible in his voice.
"Which is why you, Mr Malfoy, will be heading to Transfiguration whilst Mr Potter and I discuss something not for your ears. Now leave," Snape ordered, though not nearly as harshly as he would a member of any other house. Looking anxious and defeated, Draco glided out of the classroom, his billowing robe strangely mirroring that of the Professor Snape's. 'Must be a Slytherin thing,' thought Harry.
"Take a seat, Mr Potter," Snape said as he sat behind the desk of his chambers, "I must ask you. What do you know of your mother and father?" Harry thought this rather an odd question, but felt it best to oblige the young potions master. It wouldn't do to turn an ally into an enemy on such trivial grounds.
"Not much, Professor. I was raised by my aunt and uncle who told me they died in a car crash. But then Hagrid told me about...You Know Who," Snape seemed to shudder at the mention of the dark lord. Harry noted that, as it seemed very out of character for such an emotionless and stern man.
"Indeed. I ask only because I knew both of your parents. Your mother was graceful, beautiful and a credit to muggleborns everywhere. Your father was a swine," Harry didn't know how to react to this. He had never really known his father, but his early memories were ones of a loving father who apparently made the ultimate sacrifice to save his life. How Snape could tread all over that in one sentence slightly angered Harry, though for obvious reasons he kept such negative emotions to himself. Ten years of being beaten by the Dursley's had made it almost second nature.
"I must confess, Potter, I was most intrigued to find you in Slytherin house. Both of your parents were Gryffindors, after all. Was it out of choice?"
"Yes, Professor Snape."
"Might I ask why?"
"Because both of my parents were Gryffindors. And both of my parents are dead. Bravery is only as good as the wizard who shows it."
"You show wisdom far beyond your years, Potter. It is refreshing to see amongst your brain-dead classmates."
"And the day I share a dorm with a Weasley is the day hell freezes over."
"Personal feelings over your fellow students should not factor into such an important decision, Mr Potter. Slytherins are cunning and are masters of manipulation. I have observed many of these traits in you. And I eagerly look forward to monitoring your progress."
"Thank you, Professor."
"Now go, and give Professor Mcgonagall my apologies for making you late."