Snape’s POV

      Severus Snape was not a happy man. Not that he was ever happy prior to a new term, but this year was a special case. The Boy-Who-Lived was coming to Hogwarts. He could only imagine the heights of conceit that he would have to tolerate; well, not tolerate. More like quash as quickly as possible. The thought of knocking Harry Potter off of his podium could always bring a small smirk to his face. If any students had been present in the corridor, they would have jumped out of the way upon seeing that smirk.

      In addition to the insult of arriving students, Snape had also been lacking a restful night's sleep for the past two weeks. Every time he put his head to the pillow, he could swear to hearing someone whispering to him. He couldn't quite make out the words, although he was quite sure that he heard "please, Sev" on more than one occasion. The mysterious whisperer sounded frustrated and frantic; and the whisper became more and more frantic each night. The first night he had heard the whispering, Severus had jumped out of bed and chanted every revealing incantation that he could think of. Not a single spell detected anything. As the nights wore on, Severus tried alternately ignoring the whisper and listening carefully so as to pinpoint its location. Unfortunately, when he listened carefully, it sounded as though it was right next to his ear, and wasn't that bloody disconcerting. Severus Snape had been through enough in his life that he found it frustrating that he might be losing his mind at this junction of his life. Surely there were events in the past that were terrifying enough to push his mind over the edge at the time, so what could possibly be the present catalyst?

     Shaking his head in an attempt to physically clear his mind of the dark musings, Severus made his way through the staff entrance to the head table. He then took his unfortunate seat next to Quirrell. If there was someone who should be hearing voices, Quirrell would be first on his list of candidates. Since returning from his sabbatical, Quirrell had been a nervous wreck. Terrified of vampires, he now reeked of Garlic and wore a ridiculous turban on his head. The smell of Garlic was so strong that Snape could almost feel his sense of smell being overloaded. The smell practically overpowered his sense of taste as well. Worse than the smell, though, was the stammer that Quirrell had seemed to acquire. Very few things irked Snape more than a poor speaker; especially when the poor speaker was an alleged peer.

     Snape finally caught site of Minerva approaching the stool in front of the Head Table with a scroll clutched in her hands. 'Finally, let us get this travesty over with.' After listening to yet another rhyme issue forth from the sorting hat, Minerva began calling names. Snape amused himself by playing his usual 'Guess the House' game and allowed himself to pretend that James Potter's son did not exist, if only for a few minutes. Snape leaned forward slightly when he heard the name "Draco Malfoy". Not that he doubted the boy would be a Slytherin, he was just curious to see how long it took the hat to announce it. "Slytherin" was the proclamation, even before the hat touched Draco's head. 'Draco will be pleased. His hair did not even get mussed' mused Snape. He watched Draco smirk and then swagger to the Slytherin table.

     Finally, the Deputy Headmistress called "Harry Potter" forward and Snape could no longer deny that James Potter's spawn was in residence. As expected, the boy looked exactly like his blasted father. What surprised him, though, was Potter's small stature and frame. 'If I did not know who he was, I would ask Albus why a nine year old was being admitted to Hogwarts.' As another surprise, a most unwelcome one, Potter had his mother's eyes; the same shape and the same impossible green color. Snape could not help but think 'What a waste'. He watched as the boy carefully hoisted himself up onto the stool and was likely listening intently to what the hat was saying. After a few minutes, 'Leave it to Potter to take longer than anyone else', the sorting hat shouted "Gryffindor" much to the delight of the students already sitting at the Gryffindor table. Allowing himself a bit of unbiased honesty, Snape could say that despite Potter's parentage, he was surprised to see the timid looking boy sorted into Gryffindor. He would have guessed Potter to be a Hufflepuff based on the way he carried himself. 'Perhaps Albus' senility is finally rubbing off on the ancient hat'.

     Snape half-heartedly listened to the Headmaster's typical start of term speech and mentally rolled his eyes when the warning concerning the third floor corridor was given. 'If anything Albus, you just put out a welcome beacon to the third corridor. The little Hellions, particularly the Gryffindors, are all probably salivating now at the thought of heading to the third floor.'

     Albus finally announced the beginning of the feast and Snape picked up his fork to begin his meal. When his first bite was practically to his lips, he felt a chilling breeze near his ear and finally heard unmistakable words from his mysterious whisperer, "Beware Quirrell!" Snape, quite uncharacteristically, dropped his fork producing a loud clatter. "A-a-alright, Prof-f-fessor Snape?" "Yes, thank you Quirrell" Snape drawled, “I suddenly found myself downwind of an overwhelming source of garlic." Unsure of how to reply, Quirrell wisely went back to his meal.

     'Is that what the voice had been leading up to all this time, a plea, to be wary of Quirrell?’ There must be more to it than that." Resolving to perform another, even more thorough sweep of his quarters, and possibly even the Great Hall, Snape continued with his meal.

Harry’s POV

     Watching the sorting taking place with the other first years, Harry was a ball of nerves. For the first time in his life, Harry was thankful that his stomach was so empty; otherwise he would have thrown up by now. He was terrified that the hat would tell him that there had been some sort of mistake and that he had to go back to the Dursley’s. ‘Even if they let me back, there would be consequences for all of the freakishness they have had to deal with the past few weeks. If I am lucky, they might send me to an orphanage.”

     Finally hearing his name, Harry slowly made his way to the stool. He felt as though every eye in the Great Hall was focused on him. When the hat was placed on his head, Harry was quite surprised that the hat would think him cunning and that it knew just how badly he wanted to prove himself.

     As soon as the hat finished telling him how Slytherin could help him on his way to greatness, Harry heard a voice quietly hissing, “Do it and burn, hat”. The hat laughed outright, although Harry had no idea why the hat found the thought of being kindling was so amusing. The hat continued “Well, this should be an amusing development. So be it then, better be GRYFFINDOR!” A thunderous applause broke out at the Gryffindor table and Harry slipped off of the stool and made his way over to his fellow Gryffindors.

     When the sorting concluded, Harry carefully listened to the Headmaster’s notices and at the same time wondered if the Headmaster was colorblind.  Based on the man’s clashing robes, he must be. As the feast began, Harry heard a clanking sound from the head table and looked up just in time to watch a darkly clad professor retrieving his fork and then scowling at the man next to him. Harry nudged Ron, “Who is that?” “Oh,” answered Ron, “that’s Professor Snape. The twins said he teaches potions and that he is not too fond of Gryffindors as a whole.” Harry watched as the man next to Snape turned back to his plate. He then did a double take when he saw a flickering image of a woman -the same woman that had saved him at the Dursley’s over a year ago- standing behind Quirrell. He assumed that no one else saw her because no one else was looking at the head table.

     Harry was shocked to see her. He had not seen or heard from her, except occasional reassuring whispers, since that night at the Dursley’s. He noticed she was looking right at him with what appeared to be a worried expression on her face. As he watched, she nodded her head toward Professor Quirrell and began to shake her head no. After that, she flickered out of existence as Harry had come to expect.

     “Hey mate, are you all right?” Harry shook himself out of his contemplation and looked at Ron, “Yeah sure, just got lost in my thoughts for a second.” Thinking nothing of it, Ron started chattering about Quidditch and Harry was able to nod in agreement with Ron at all the appropriate times while he thought about what it could mean to see the woman again after all this time.