Author: John Sexton Genre: Harry Potter Slash Love your feedback via: sexton1980@yahoo.com.au Please donate, to keep Nifty alive! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================== Chapter Two – Out of Sorts
Severus Snape looked down the Great Hall, at the young first years being led towards the staff table by Minerva McGonagall. His gaze fell upon the distinctive and familiar blonde head of Draco Malfoy; but, to his great consternation, he could not make out anyone in the boy's company whom he did not recognise.
Young Malfoy was surrounded by the faces of children whose lineage was unmistakable; the Crabbe and Goyle boys, and a girl who had to be a Parkinson.
If Malfoy had managed to befriend Potter, there was precious little evidence of it. Even more disturbing was the emotional scan that Severus was detecting from the Malfoy heir: the young blond wizard was clearly stressed and far from happy.
Severus put this down to the strain of the Sorting ritual; though why on earth the son of Lucius Malfoy would have cause to be anxious about that gave Severus pause.
The Sorting Hat moved through the children efficiently enough, and Draco Malfoy was placed into Slytherin without any hesitation. The boy's relief was patent, and Severus scanned the remaining children with a growing sense of unease.
He could still not identify Potter, until he saw Malfoy cast a scathing glare at a dark-haired boy in the middle of the remaining pack. The boy returned Malfoy's look... in spades.
Upon closer scrutiny Severus felt a pang of recognition in that face. The glasses, the unruly mop of black hair, the stance... there was a familiarity in those features that was both disturbing and unmistakable. But what troubled Severus even more was the look that had been exchanged between the boys, and the shock of red hair at the dark-haired boy's side.
The redhead and the raven-haired boy were exchanging amicable glances and whispering to each other. Severus began to suspect that the bespectacled child was Potter, and the redhead could only be a Weasley; this did not bode well.
All of Severus's fears were confirmed when he heard "Potter, Harry!" and the boy nervously stepped up to the Sorting Hat. Potter with a Weasley? Whatever this meant, it was not good news. What had transpired between Malfoy and Potter on the train? Why was Potter with a Weasley, of all people?
Severus was mystified when the Sorting Hat slipped down over Potter's eyes; it seemed to sit there for an eternity. Severus could sense confusion, determination, anxiety and even fear emanating from the boy.
A buzz of intense curiosity swept the hall, as the Sorting of Harry Potter took an inordinate amount of time. Maybe it was Severus's own attitude that made it seem so; he felt as anxious as Potter clearly was.
When the hat finally proclaimed "Gryffindor!" Severus gaped in disbelief, before suppressing his anger and quickly regaining his composure. An onlooker would barely have detected his reaction; he was, after all, an accomplished Occlumens and an equally competent spy.
Severus looked directly at Dumbledore, who merely smiled with that infuriating twinkle in his eye. What was the old man up to? Severus swallowed his anger, then stared at Dumbledore, as the ancient wizard winked at Potter and raised his goblet to the child in a subtle gesture of congratulations.
When the redhead was confirmed as a Weasley, and took his place next to Potter at the Gryffindor table, Severus was ready to flay someone, anyone, alive. He turned back towards the Slytherin table and sought out young Malfoy. He found the boy glaring across the room at Potter, and easily detected the waves of animosity being projected by the young Slytherin towards the bespectacled Gryffindor.
Malfoy looked up, just at that moment, and Severus drilled him with a look of unmasked annoyance. Whatever had transpired between the two boys, Severus could not tell, but there was clearly bad blood between them, and Severus suspected that somewhere, in the midst of this fiasco, stood the Weasley.
Dumbledore feigned being oblivious to the situation, and Severus determined that he would have to wait until after the feast to tackle the headmaster on the issue.
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The Welcoming Feast had barely concluded when Severus stormed into Albus Dumbledore's office.
"Why do I have the feeling that you are not surprised by tonight's turn of events, Headmaster?" he sneered, barely containing his anger.
"Good evening, Severus, did you enjoy the feast?" Albus smiled genially at his Potions Master. "Have a liquorice snap?" he added, and proffered a tray of the disgusting confections.
"Don't play games, Albus, I'm really not in the mood. We have waited years for this night and it has all gone off the rails! How can you sit there—"
"Then at least have a seat, Severus..." the old man interrupted him, calmly but firmly... "and control yourself!"
Severus did as he was directed; he drew a deep breath before sighing dejectedly.
"Severus," the old man said, affectionately, "I have found that, quite often, when things don't go just as we planned, there is a reason; and often that reason opens up all sorts of other possibilities." The look that Severus flashed at Dumbledore was positively evil; he hated the old man's riddles. Dumbledore may well be the greatest wizard of his age, but he could be infuriatingly obtuse when he put his mind to it.
"Spare me the misdirection, Albus!" growled Severus, before a wry smile creased his own lips momentarily. "I do believe you could have been a Slytherin," he added cagily.
The headmaster's eyes sparkled mischievously.
"I assume that was meant as a compliment, Severus. Though I must say: it hardly matches your demeanour."
"Enough with the trivialities then, Albus... why is Potter in Gryffindor?"
Dumbledore steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair. Before he opened his mouth, the twinkle in his eyes, that familiar infuriating sparkle, flared.
"Why indeed, Severus!" He smiled and stroked his long white beard thoughtfully, before he struck a more serious pose. "I had wondered the same thing."
The headmaster inclined his head towards the Sorting Hat, which now occupied its normal position, high on a shelf above their heads.
"It appears that the boy asked not to be placed in Slytherin!"
Severus immediately shot a venomous look of utter disbelief up at the tattered hat, which simply inclined its peak towards him.
"That is correct, Snape," the hat confirmed the Headmaster's claim. "`Not Slytherin, not Slytherin! Anywhere but Slytherin!' were his exact words. Quite a spirited young whelp, that one... though I must say: not at all surprising, when one considers his pedigree."
This latter comment drew a wicked smile from Dumbledore and a profound scowl from Severus.
"No, I suppose I should not be surprised," Severus spat angrily, "neither by the arrogance nor the sheer effrontery of any son of James Potter." He turned his venom back onto Dumbledore. "So, all your scheming has come to nought, Albus. I did try to warn you, when you first hatched this little plot, that exposure to those Muggles would ruin the boy. A history of childhood abuse does not automatically mark one for Slytherin; there is more than that to being a snake! If we had placed him with one of the pureblood families, as I had pleaded..."
The Potions Master drew a deep breath; he was just warming up. But the Headmaster interjected.
"Enough, Severus, this is water under the bridge. The boy is not in Slytherin and that is all that matters." Dumbledore smiled, leaned back in his great chair, and placed his ancient hands firmly on the edge of his desk. "The whys and wherefores will sort themselves out, most probably for the better."
Severus sighed dejectedly.
"Does Minerva know your real motives for placing the boy with those abusive Muggles? I know she was there when you delivered the boy, and I know that she did not agree with your decision; but did you ever apprise her of your little scheme? Does she know that the boy was destined for Slytherin?"
"No, Severus, she does not! And it must stay that way. I dare say that Minerva would have always assumed that the boy would follow his parents into Gryffindor, and, as it turns out, she would have been right. I see no point in disavowing her of that notion. He is her charge now, let her savour the moment."
A gruff snort was Severus's only response, until he caught the gleam in Albus's eye.
"`Savour the moment!'" he mocked, "you don't believe that for one tick, you old fox. My assessment of the brat is spot on. You know, as well as I do, that he is as arrogant and self-opinionated as his father. He will probably cause Minerva more heartache than James Potter and all of his Gryffindor cronies rolled into one."
Dumbledore laughed.
"You're most likely correct, Severus."
"I know I am, Albus. The brat has already made at least one enemy in Slytherin."
The old man's face grew suddenly sad.
"Yes, well don't be too hard on Master Malfoy, Severus..."
The head of Slytherin made no attempt to mask his surprise at the old man's awareness of the Malfoy-Potter standoff; he acknowledged the headmaster's acuity with a wry grin and a nod of his head.
The old man rose slowly to his feet.
"I'm quite sure that Draco will be worried enough about his father's reaction to today's events, without the extra burden of your displeasure. I suspect that what transpired today was as much out of his hands as it was out of ours. Goodnight, Severus."
"Goodnight, Headmaster."
Despite his still simmering anger, Severus grinned wryly, as he rose from his seat and made his way to the door. He shook his head, on the ride down the spiral staircase; the old man may have miscalculated with Potter, then again he may not.
A grimace warped Severus's stony visage, as he contemplated that – ever since that day, a decade ago, when Albus had decided to send the boy to live with those Muggles – he, Severus Snape, may have been just as much out of the loop as Minerva. One never really knew with Dumbledore; the boy might well be where the old fox wanted him all along... in Gryffindor.
Then the wry smile returned, albeit tempered now by his doubts. Severus mused that, miscalculation or not, the old man had not missed anything with young Malfoy. There was not much at Hogwarts that got past Albus Dumbledore.
Severus strode along the corridor that led back down to the Slytherin common room, he would talk to Malfoy after breakfast... no! Better to square things away before the boy has another encounter with Potter, he thought. He would speak to Malfoy before he sent the First Years to bed.
The Head of Slytherin House came to a sudden halt; he pricked up his ears at a faint sound, which became more distinct as the echo of his own footfalls faded. It sounded like sniffling, and it was coming from the cupboard across the hall.
When Severus threw open the door, he was startled to discover Draco Malfoy squatting on an upturned bucket, surrounded by an assortment of old mops and brooms. He was clearly distressed, and his condition was now made worse by the embarrassment of being discovered.
One look at the boy's face was enough to throw Severus into action. He closed the cupboard door, cast "Lumos!" to light the tiny chamber, then cast silencing wards, in a near whisper.
He was not surprised to see recognition in the boy's face; he had expected that a Malfoy would know that spell.
Severus scanned the tiny room; it was cluttered, but not so cramped that he was forced into the boy's personal space. He spun around to face the boy again, his wand held just in front of his own chest. The light from its tip cast eerie shadows up along his face, and once again the boy betrayed his fear.
Even though Draco knew the Professor personally, he was obviously frightened by the ghoulish features that the light and shadow brought out in Severus's face. The boy's anxiety was no doubt exacerbated by his embarrassment.
"You are supposed to be in the Slytherin common room, Mr Malfoy," Severus chastened the blond, an accusatory tone in his dark, silky voice. Then he squinted at the lad. "Explain yourself," he demanded suddenly.
The boy looked up at him, a mournful and bereft expression warping his angular features.
"I... I'm sorry, P—Professor Snape... Sir," the boy sniffled, as he struggled to comport himself with dignity. "I did not want to bring disgrace to Slytherin, by showing any weakness..." he blurted, in a single, determined breath; then he sniffled, again, and teetered on the brink of another wave of tears and hysteria.
"It's just that..." the lad sniffled again, then drew himself up with a jolt, and renewed his resolve... "sorry, Sir!"
"Well, at least you've shown some discretion," said Severus tonelessly, as he waved his illuminated wand at their surroundings. "However," he drilled the young wizard with his black orbs, "Lucius would, no doubt, expect far more self-discipline from his son."
The boy paled, not that it was a significant deviation from his usual complexion, and his expression descended into profound alarm.
"Oh, Sir!" the boy pleaded with his new school master.
"As a Slytherin," Severus redirected the boy's anxiety, "you are expected to control your emotions at all times."
"Yes, Sir," the boy replied miserably, and hung his head in disgrace.
"Yes, indeed, Master Malfoy," pronounced Severus gravely, "what would you have done, if this had occurred in the Great Hall?" he demanded of the boy, "there are no broom closets there, to afford you sanctuary."
"No, Sir," the boy was clearly chastened; he dropped his head again in even deeper disgrace.
"This is all to do with Potter, I presume?"
The boy jerked his head up at Severus.
"Sir?" he cried, trying to gather his wits.
Severus merely stared at the boy, until he finally relented...
"Yes, Sir," Draco admitted reluctantly. But Lucius's son was obviously startled by his superior's knowledge of something he had considered a well-kept secret.
"But," the boy dared to ask, "how do you—"
"Very little happens at Hogwarts without my knowledge, Master Malfoy!" Severus drilled the boy with a no-nonsense glare, "and absolutely nothing in Slytherin," he added quite deliberately.
"Yes, Sir," the boy repeated soberly.
"The first lesson that you will learn in Slytherin, Master Malfoy, is that revenge is the panacea for all afflictions of the mind, body and spirit." Severus smiled darkly at the boy, "Mr Potter has made a bad start at Hogwarts this day, Draco. But never fear, he will reap what he has sown."
The boy's delicate features morphed into a delighted sneer.
"But remember, Draco," Severus cautioned his newest Slytherin, "revenge is a dish best served cold. A Slytherin knows when to strike, and when to bide his time. Mr Potter may well enjoy his first few days here at Hogwarts, but he shares a double Potions class with you this Friday morning, and I can assure you, he will quickly discover that one does not cross a Slytherin lightly."
By this stage, young Malfoy's face was positively beaming.
"Now, Mr Malfoy," quipped Severus, casually, "you and I have a house meeting to attend, and I expect you to do Slytherin and your family proud, here at Hogwarts."
"Yes, Sir!"
Severus waved his wand over the boy, and his tear stained face looked suddenly refreshed. They exited the cupboard, and a much more confident, almost arrogant, Draco Malfoy accompanied his housemaster to the Slytherin common room.
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