The Sorting

Professor Snape didn't interact with the four again for the rest of the journey and watched with interest as all four were sorted into Gryffindor, the hat taking quite a remarkably long time for Granger and Potter. It wouldn't surprise him if the sorting hat had quite the difficulty placing both. Granger's wits would rival a placement into Ravenclaw, and he knew of Potter's embedded second personality, which would make it nearly impossible for the hat to not place him in Slytherin. But with the four in Gryffindor, he at least was sure that they would keep each other safe, and his interaction would, for now, be limited to the classroom.

He had forgotten about the altercation Potter would have with Malfoy and wished he had recalled it. It would have likely saved him some trouble for the future had he been able to prepare the child better for interacting with others of high social standings. But unfortunately, the fact that Potter had publically declined an alliance with the Malfoy heir was the sole reason the children had started out in a rivalry. He knew just how much Malfoy Senior had hoped that his son could win the favor of the Potter boy, and his inability to do so had driven a deep rift between the relationship of father and son.

"How was the train ride? I didn't hear of any issues," Dumbledore initiated the conversation before, much to Snape's chagrin, the man reached over and placed some vegetables on his plate as if he were still a child. How had he forgotten how much Dumbledore had mollycoddled him those first few years?

"You know I despise asparagus, Headmaster," Severus growled under his breath but knew better than to attempt discussing his fate, angrily stabbing at the nasty greens on his plate.

"I know, my boy, but your health is important to all of us," the man twinkled at him before resuming his conversation about the train ride.

"I think we should send the train rules to the brats before boarding. The amount of freely wandering familiars was very distracting. I nearly stepped on Longbottom's toad twice. I finally confiscated that little amphibian-"

"Now Severus, you know how excited they are that first time," Minerva chastised softly from Dumbledore's other side, leaning forward to involve herself in the conversation.

"I nearly killed his familiar. What do you think that would have done." Severus snapped, slapping his wand against his plate harder when it didn't disappear with the first subtle tab.

"The pet is waiting in his dormitory for him. I'm not that cruel to take it indefinitely." Snape finally said after the elderly witch glowered at him disapprovingly for several seconds. It was then that his eyes fell on Potter, whose hand had flown up to cover his scar, pale face and fearful eyes flying up to him, before briefly wandering to Quirrel and then falling back on him, before Percy Weasley pulled his attention away. Snape thoughtfully let his eyes fall on Quirrel. What was he supposed to do? He felt a headache forming as the overwhelming task he had been entrusted with threatened to steal his breath.

Harry gasped and pushed his hand to his forehead. Snape had caught his look, but Harry was nearly unable to focus with the sharp burn in his forehead, so painful that it almost made his stomach turn.

"Harry, are you alright?" Percy asked as he leaned forwards before following the boy's eyes up to the head table. "That's Professor Snape," Percy explained. "He was touring the train today. Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

"No, it's just a headache," Harry said quickly, lowering his hands, ignoring the twinge to his forehead, even as his eyes lingered on Quirrel, a strange feeling forming in his stomach. Something more than recognition. He felt unease, nearly terror, as he watched the man reply to a heavier woman in a noticeable stutter.

"You look quite pale. Are you sure you're not ill? I would suggest you see Madam Pomphrey. She'll fix you up in a jiffy." Percy stressed again, frowning at the head table until his eyes met Snape's, and he quickly dropped his gaze.

"I'll be fine. Just overate on candy," Harry replied before he turned back into the conversation at the table. Something was off, and he was sure of it. He didn't know, but deep down, he knew something wasn't right with Quirrel and vowed to stay away from the man.

Their trek to the tower once the feast concluded was awe-inspiring, and Harry walked with his mouth wide open nearly the entire time. The portraits moved, and ghosts flew around, causing mischief. The older students told scary stories of ghosts carrying off goody two-shoe Gryffindors. But, of course, most of those were told by the Weasley twins, nearly exclusively targeting their young brother, but all in good humor.

"Alright, first years, classes start tomorrow; I highly suggest that you read up on the first chapter for each class that you will be covering-"

"Ah, leave 'em be Percy. It's the first night. It's customary to stay up all night and get into all sorts of mischief!" Fred hollered from across the room, George also supplying his own witty comments.

"Don't get into trouble. You do not want to start your year in a bad way. First impressions matter," Percy escorted the first year through the house, assigning beds, ensuring the little ones understood the house rules, as few as there were, and were familiar with the school rules.

"The first few days, one of the older students will come to wake you, but you will soon learn to set your own alarms so that you can take care of each other. Remember that fighting is not tolerated and that your grades come first." Percy concluded, leveling each of the first years with a critical look.

"I'm exhausted. I think I'll go to bed," Harry said nearly immediately after they were left to their own, and all others around him quickly agreed.

Harry was mindful to neatly sort his clothes and belongings away, despite feeling his eyelids drop with exhaustion a few times. Most other boys had already laid down, but Harry felt a sense of unease as he tried to find rest a few moments later. So much had happened just today, and he knew his life was forever changed.

Harry lay restless as he listened to his classmates snore around him. He had his wand on his night table and found his thoughts wandering back to the black-haired Professor, no matter how hard he tried to think of nothing and simply go to sleep. Despite his rather harsh tone and stern demeanor, the Professor had seemed relatively nice when he had picked him up from his relatives. He had ensured that Harry got to buy proper clothes before reporting to Hogwarts and thus wouldn't embarrass himself with his oversized hand-me-downs. The Professor even ensured he had all the school materials he could possibly need. He knew that Ron had fawned over his satchel and school supplies quite heavily, and up until that point, he wasn't quite aware of the brand.

Snitchlet apparently was the number one brand for the relatively high-standing society. He saw that confirmed when he and Draco had worn nearly matching garments when they met in front of the Great Hall. His mind wandered back to that encounter, and he felt his blood boil up at the boy's memory. He was very fond of his new friends and couldn't allow the boy to embarrass them for no reason. Their short encounter at Madam Malkins' shop certainly hadn't made them friends!

Ron had been very embarrassed and put out, and Hermione also didn't appreciate the immediate effect the boy's snobbish reaction had caused on her. Harry just hoped that the blonde would either leave them alone or would at least recognize that Harry found no humor in that behavior and would certainly not join in the bullying, regardless of his clothes. With him thinking of his interaction with the blonde in the entry hall, his eyes finally fell closed, and his mind drifted to sleep.

"Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully-and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it-then Malfoy turned into the hooked-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold-there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking."

Harry didn't remember his dream when he woke, drenched in cold sweat and trembling with fear before the sun rose. He attempted to fall back asleep, but his damp pillow and twisted sheets didn't allow sleep to find him. Finally, at nearly 0600, he found the shower room. He wasn't sure what had woken him in such a state, but he knew he felt very uneasy even as he stepped into the hot shower. It would be a long day, indeed.