A young Harry Potter entered the great hall, excitement echoed throughout.

It was clear that Harry was the reason for the additional chatter erupting in the great hall. There were four large tables spread out, all a long rectangular shape. Each table was filled with students of all ages wearing dress robes, each table had a distinctive colour printed on the edges of the robes, and a crest imprinted on the left side. All the students were discussing which house Harry would be sorted into, clearly, they were all hoping they would be the ones to gain the young celebrity.

Each table was representing their house by the distinctive colours laced on their robes. Harry instinctively glanced over at the table sporting scarlet red. He knew very little about his parents, but the one thing he was told during his trip to Diagon alley with Hagrid before his arrival at Hogwarts was that both his parents were proud and famous Gryffindors. The house is known as a favourite among wizards, a noble and respectable house. Values such as courage and bravery were common traits associated with Gryffindor. This worried Harry, he knew he was far from being brave, his life with the Dursleys was a clear indicator that he was not full of courage as he was not one to stand up for himself in any situation.

He was in between Ron and Hermione as they walked to the front of the great hall, he tried his best to hide among the small group of first years to take the attention away from himself. The chatter was slowly lessening as the group came to a stop. Professor McGonagall stood holding a scroll positioned near an old stool and a worn hat.

Harry looked up for the first time since entering the great hall, making eye contact for the first time with those sitting at the front of the hall on either side of Dumbledore's throne-like seat. Harry scanned what he believed were the professors, each face he encountered was unfamiliar, it wasn't until he reached the left side of the room, he noticed professor Quirrell staring directly at him, a vacant expression on his face. The professor seemed less pleasant than he was at the three broomsticks, a dark and nauseous feeling fell over Harry as they continued to hold their gaze at one another.

It was at this moment Harry felt a sharp pain cut across his forehead directly over his scar. Harry tried to ignore it, he pulled his palm to his forehead and bowed slightly trying to ease the pain. Hermione noticed Harry's discomfort; she placed her hand on Harry's shoulder for support.

"Harry, are you okay?" She asked worryingly.

Harry just nodded and gave Hermione a shy smile. The pain lessened and he looked back towards Quirrell, however this time it wasn't just Quirrell staring at him. A man to Quirrell's left was staring at Harry intensively, an intimidating man, with shoulder-length dark hair. He was sporting all-black robes and a seemly large nose that had a subtle hook. he had witnessed Harry's discomfort when he made eye contact with Quirrell, it was hard for him to miss as he had not stopped staring at the boy himself since he entered the hall.

Severus Snape, the potions professor, the man to Quirrell's left.

Severus watched as Harry Potter entered the great hall, he could not shift his gaze, as hard as he tried it was near impossible. Those eyes, her eyes.

The boy was not at all what Severus expected, his initial feeling wasn't of hate and loathing. Severus feared the sight of seeing a mini-James Potter would bring the worst out in him, however, he wasn't able to conjure those feelings as he was not looking at a recreation of James, but rather a reincarnation of Lily, his best friend, the love of his life. The boy harboured so many of Lily's features, not just her eyes, but her smile, Severus noticed this as Harry gave the young girl beside him a subtle one earlier on.

Severus struggled to see any of James Potter at all in his physical features, there were no glasses, no square jaw. He couldn't even see any arrogance in his walk, the boy hid while he made his way to the front of the great hall. He wasn't trying to be the centre of attention as James did, instead, he was hiding away not wanting to be noticed.

Harry was bordering on tall for his age, quite thin, with messy pitch-black hair, his hair just a tad longer than the rest of the boys being sorted.

Still, he was a fine-looking boy, his features complimented his awkward stage as he had quite hit puberty yet. He would no doubt grow into a handsome young man with the right amount of nutrition in the future. The Dursleys were to blame for his thin frame, they were no strangers to withholding meals. The boy was constantly being forced to undertake yard work far too advanced for an 11-year-old boy, giving Harry more strength than the average boy his age. This no doubt helped in Harry's defence when confronted by Dudley and his gang of friends.

Harry caught Severus's gaze as he looked back up at Quirrell, he could feel the man focusing on him. Harry stood there staring back at the mysterious man in all black, this time his scar didn't shudder.

"When I call your name, you come and sit on the stool and I'll place the sorting hat on your head, first is Hermione Granger!" Yelled Professor McGonagall.

This was it; the moment Harry's heart was skipping a beat; he had only known Hermione and Ron since the train ride from King's cross. In that short journey, they had already all grown so close. Harry feared that they would not be sorted into the same house and the odds were against him. Hermione was incredibly bright for her age; she was a textbook Ravenclaw. Harry knew he did not possess the same ability and highly doubted he would be put in Ravenclaw as he was not academically driven. Hermione was nervous as her name was called, Harry squeezed her hand as she was heading for the stool for support, and she returned a harder squeeze and a gentle smile.

As Hermione sat on the stool and the hat was lowered.

"RAVENCLAW" the sorting hat yelled.

The Ravenclaw house burst into applause, Hermione ran towards the house's table and was embraced immediately. Harry became more fearful now, he had just lost Hermione and next he was sure he might lose Ron.

Ron Weasley came from a long family of Gryffindors, his fate was bound to follow. His five older brothers are all Gryffindors. Ron stated on the train that most students stick to their house for friendships and Ron believed this to be for the best, Ron did seem disappointed to see Hermione sorted in Ravenclaw. Ron was now becoming more excited about his sorting. Harry still held onto the hope that his parents were both Gryffindors and this gave him the confidence to think he and Ron would be together.

Severus watched, he felt as if he had been transported back to his sorting so many years ago. He watched as Harry squeezed the young girl's hand before she was sorted into Ravenclaw. He saw the same small smile that Harry gave was the same one he gave Lily before she was sorted into Gryffindor. The scene was uncanny, the boy showed his emotions so clearly, he desired to be sorted into Ravenclaw just to be able to continue his friendship with the young girl, but he was unsure if he possessed their values.

Severus couldn't look away; he ignored Dumbledore's gaze upon him. He didn't care what Dumbledore was thinking about when it came to him staring at the boy, as he had been staring from the moment, he saw him. Severus swore a vow to Lily to protect her son no matter the consequences, he didn't expect to be reliving his childhood through Lily and James Potter's son this early. It was becoming too much even for Severus, no doubt the boy would have James Potter's swine of a personality, this would help Severus ignore the boy from now on and not get lost in those eyes.

McGonagall stood looking down at the next name on the list.

"Ronald Weasley." She called.

Within seconds the Gryffindor table erupted in applause, Ron ran to his older twin brothers Fred and George for an embrace. The sorting hat hadn't even reached Ron's head when it shouted out Gryffindor.

"Harry Potter."

Harry's nerves kicked in; he slowly made his way towards the sorting hat. As he sat, he watched as Dumbledore gave him a small nod and smile, this was not very comforting to Harry, and he didn't understand why. He searched elsewhere for security, but his eyes couldn't reach Hermione through the crowd, he turned his gaze to his right and found the dark comforting eyes of the mysterious professor beside Quirrell.

"SLYTHERIN" The sorting hat yelled.

The great hall was silent, not a word was said, the sorting hat hadn't even touched Harry's head when it yelled out Harry's worse fear. Ron had spoken to him about the Slytherin's house on the train ride, he told Harry there wasn't a witch or wizard that hadn't gone bad that was in Slytherin. His confrontation with Draco Malfoy earlier was enough for Harry to fear Slytherin and those in that house.

There was no one more shocked than Severus. How could Lily and James Potter's son be a to Slytherin?

Severus's gaze shifted to Dumbledore; he must know more than he is letting on. All Severus knew was that the boy had been cared for by an anonymous wizarding family since Lily's death, no one close to the order was to know his exact location for safety while the boy grew up. He very much doubted he was raised by dark wizards, which would lead him towards Slytherin. He had many more questions for Dumbledore, and he would be getting answers later in the evening.

Harry's heart sank, and he made his way to the Slytherin table where he was welcomed like a hero, he sat next to a blonde young blonde boy.

"Told you, Potter, you are one of us." Whispered Draco.