"I'm gathering all you together for a quick meeting to let you know of recent events." Dumbledore smiled at the Hogwart's staff, surveying them with a measuring look each. "I am making one of the corridor's on the third floor off-limits. As some of you know, Nicholas Flammel created the only known surviving philosopher's stone. He recently has been worried about it being stolen so he's asked me to put it under guard here at Hogwart's until he decides whether or not to destroy it. I have agreed."

Several professors looked startled and glanced at each other in alarm. Having the philosopher's stone under the school's roof placed everyone in possible danger.

"Professors Sprout, McGonagall, Quirrell, Flitwick and Snape are each asked to provide me with a safeguard of some sort to barrier the stone. I have figured out what guard I'm going to put up but I'd rather we had more than one. I'm also going to ask Hagrid to allow us to use Fluffy to guard the entrance, just in case." Several professors grimaced at the thought of the grounds keeper's three-headed dog pet.

Professor Severus Snape raised an eyebrow as he asked, "Did you have something in mind, Headmaster, for these barriers?"

Dumbledore smiled broadly at Snape, as if he'd made a clever suggestion. "Use your talents, think of something that might difficult for the average wizard or witch." He gave a wry chuckle. "Each of you is an expert in something. Use that to your advantage. We'll coordinate it tomorrow morning before classes begin. I'll give you tonight to think on it. I'd like to have the safeguards in place before the end of the week, if you please."

Dumbledore ignored the alarmed looks exchanged between staff members and rubbed his hands together. "Shall we prepare for the arrival of the new students?" he asked. "Oh," he stopped everyone's movements by raising his hands. "I almost forgot. As some of you know, Quirrell here as graciously agreed to become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. I'm sure you'll all make him welcome."

The reedy thin man flushed slightly at the welcoming smiles he received and studiously avoided Snape's glare.

As the professors filed out of the staff room and headed for the banquet hall, Snape fell into step beside Dumbledore and McGonagall. "Headmaster, I don't mean to sound, well, whiny," Snape began, "but I would like to know why..."

"Because, Severus, you serve me better as the Potions master." Dumbledore laid a comforting hand on Snape's shoulder as they walked. "You have a gift for it, you always have. You enjoy making potions and antidotes, don't deny it."

"Besides," said Minerva McGonagall with a slight sniff to her tone, "can you imagine what the parents of our students might say if they learned that the Defense Against the Dark Arts was a former Death Eater?"

"Not many know that," argued Snape defensively.

"But some do, Severus," said Dumbledore with an air of sadness, "and that's enough. We need to play our hands perfectly. I believe that the next few years are going to have great upheavals."

His tone was saddened, almost morose for Dumbledore, and both Snape and McGonagall looked at the headmaster in wary surprise. "Upheaval?" sputtered McGonagall. "Whatever do you mean?"

Dumbledore, however, only smiled a bit sadly. "You'll see," was all he would tell them.

Snape grimaced. He hated it when Dumbledore went mystical on them.

The banquet hall was crowded with the chattering of students, as it was the start of every term. Snape kept a watchful eye on the students of his house, Slytherin, to make sure they stayed out of harmful trouble. Trouble was all right, harmful trouble was not.

The first years would be dragging themselves off the boat with Rubeus Hagrid, the groundskeeper, booming at them to hurry. Snape was curious about the surprise student had mentioned to him several days ago; it seemed there had been some difficulty getting the invitation to Hogwart's to the student. Snape didn't know all the particulars, but he had sensed Dumbledore's amused frustration at the situation.

"Winchester, sit down and shut your mouth. The headmaster will be speaking shortly. No disruptions this year." A Slytherin seventh year gave Snape a baleful glance but did as he was told. Snape would be glad when that one left the Hogwart's fold. 'Future fodder for the dementors at Azkaban,' thought Snape with a nasty smile.

Dumbledore entered the room and things quietened down. The other professors, Snape included, took their seats at the head table. "Welcome to another year at Hogwart's, everyone! I know that the weather is rather dismal and that we'd all like some nice warm food and good cheer to drive the storm away. How about we bring in the first years and get them sorted? The sooner we sort, the sooner we eat!"

There was a loud cheer at the notion and Dumbledore motioned to Professor McGonagall to get the sorting hat. She placed the hat on a stool and then fetched the first years. The sorting hat sang it's disgustingly cute little song describing the history of Hogwart's and the hat's purpose for being. Then name after name was called and Snape gave a calm smile each time a new Slytherin member was announced by the ratty, charmed hat. He idly spaced off, remembering his own sorting....

"Snape, Severus!" barked a frazzled haired witch at the door. Severus cautiously moved into the large banquet hall and swallowed nervously at the large assortment of curious faces. He walked calmly to the stool and the witch put the hat on his head. It slid down over his ears and there was pause.

What's it to be, Severus Snape? You have a stout heart, yes, you do, but a twisted one it is. You can go to one of two, which shall it be?

He took a deep breath. His father had been a Slytherin; he didn't know much about the other houses. 'Slytherin,' he thought.

"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the hat to the assembly and there were cheers from a table whose draping was green and silver with a serpent on their banner. Severus pulled the hat off and set it gingerly on the bench.

Are you sure?

He ignored the voice in his head as he walked to the table and sat down in the nearest open chair. Yes, he was sure...

"Potter, Harry!"

A sudden hush fell over the crowd and Snape was jerked from his reverie. It couldn't be.

He watched in stunned silence as a small, mussy-haired boy with thick black glasses and baggy clothes walked cautiously to the hat. He sat on the chair, shaking so badly with nerves he almost fell off. The hat went on and down past his ears, almost covering up his entire head.

There was a long pause, as if the Sorting Hat was deliberating with Harry on his choice. Harry's head shook once, almost imperceptibly but Snape caught the movement.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat and the table with the lion banner in maroon and gold gave triumphant shouts as James Potter's son made his way to the table to sit. Potter still looked ill at ease and Snape felt a leer coming on. Obviously the famous Harry Potter wasn't comfortable with his fame. How had the boy survived all this time? He seemed to have none of his father's arrogance.

This year was going to be interesting after all. Dumbledore was right.

"See, Severus?" whispered Dumbledore, leaning over to him. "I told you I had a special student coming." Snape merely grunted and folded his arms in a distinctive pout. Dumbledore merely chuckled. "Harry isn't James, so behave, if you please."

Snape gaped a moment at the headmaster. "Headmaster," he rasped, "would I do anything to James Potter's son, the man who saved me from..."

"Enough, Severus, I get your point." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled behind those half-moon shaped glasses, but there was still a warning there. "I just knew you'd be thrilled though."

Snape managed to make a snort of derision that Dumbledore wouldn't take offense to and then sunk back down into his chair. He spaced off for a bit, roused again by another name.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

He groaned. Not another one!

The feast began and Snape kept an eye on Potter as he chatted with several first years around him. He definitely had the look of his father about him, but those startling green eyes could only have come from the lovely Lily. Snape was willing to make bets that Potter's hair never looked tamed and that without those glasses he was blind as a stump.

Idly Snape wondered what Potter's magical ability was. He toyed with his dessert until McGonagall bumped him with her elbow as she got up. "Take your students, Severus," she said sharply, as if irritated at catching him daydreaming. He jolted up with a start and headed for the Slytherin table.

He blinked in surprise as he spotted a fair-haired boy sitting next to the Slytherin ghost, The Bloody Baron. How had he missed Lucius Malfoy's brat coming in? He scowled. Wonderful, first Potter, then another Weasley to trip over, and now Malfoy's juvenile delinquent. Well, with luck Brat Malfoy got his brains from his mother and not his father.

On the way up to the Slytherin dormitory, Snape came to the conclusion that Draco Malfoy was even stupider than his father. Had a bigger, louder mouth too.

After the usual pep talk, laying down the rules and assigning everyone their beds, Snape made his way to his own rooms and sat down heavily on the bed. Then he fell back, head cushioned by his lumpy pillow.

"I need a drink," he said out loud.