Severus Snape sat in his cold, hard backed chair in the dungeons, peaceful as ever. He wanted to enjoy the peace whilst it lasted, since term time would bring him mere chaos and destruction, first years held no regard for his well being. Last year, he had delt with over a hundred cauldron explosions alone, surely that was a record broken? If it were his choice, he would ban first years from stepping into his potions classroom full stop!

What was especially daunting was the upcoming arrival of the resident boy-who-lived, he wouldn't call it dread but certain emotions filled him to the brim. How was he supposed to predict the personality of his childhood enemy, and childhood best friend? He simply hoped that he did not act in any way similar to the Weasley twins, the two of them were enough to make a man retire.

He recalled one day in which the ginger haired siblings had upturned the great hall completely, it was still a mystery to Severus how they had managed it, and how they hadn't been caught… The children had to eat whilst sitting on the floor for the whole day, and though that was quite amusing, it was not as amusing when he had to sit on the dusty floor himself.

There was probably a new Weasley coming too, after all they lived to make his life hell. If it was his own choice, Severus would have retired to an old people's home a decade ago. It was a miracle that his hair was not striking white already! He sighed standing from his uncomfortable chair, leaving to walk around the empty halls for the final time until next year.

On his stroll he encountered Filch's cat, the short ratty cat had almost tripped him over. "What on earth! You-" Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as he recovered from the near fall. "That stupid man must control his feral cat- I swear…" He received a hiss in return, but he walked away quick enough to evade the swipe of the claws.

–

Harry Potter sat on the train, specifically in one of the toilet stalls, he simply could not deal with the over the top crowd. The other children were gorging on sweets and chocolate- the mere sight of it made him want to vomit.

Sure, he had stuffed all those gallions in his pocket at the bank, he knew the Dursleys couldn't stop him now, but it simply did not appeal to him. They reminded him awfully of Dudley, somebody he would prefer not to think about at this moment in time.

On his lap sat his Transfiguration book, he could do with some extra reading before he was chucked into this mysterious school. He had never lived in the magical world, any advantage he could get he would take.

"Match sticks… This is all useless!" He sighed, the boy didn't see the appeal of switching one object to another of similar shape, for all that effort! The school may simply be facilitating their first year stupidity, however Harry did not enjoy the thought. He slammed the large book shut and sat back on the toilet seat he rested on, the train had been going for around an hour now, maybe he could walk around and find an empty carriage.

Harry gathered his things and stalked through the halls of the carriages, peeking in to see groups of students chattering away, getting to know each other. The kid had not considered making any friends as of yet. Until he could find somebody who likely would not ask Harry to do their homework for them at any given moment, he wouldn't make an effort.

During his search, an older student had walked towards him from the opposite direction, and Harry recoiled, pushing himself against the wall to avoid any form of contact, the thought made him panic. Luckily, he escaped the encounter without casualty, and eventually found himself a carriage with no occupants.

The seats looked dusty, however they were actually very comfortable and velvety, maybe it was a magic thing, he thought. He pulled out his books once more, no student approached his carriage.

–

The boat was wholly unnecessary, he thought. Why couldn't they walk around the lake? Or take the path the older students used? It was silly, having to sit in close proximity to strangers, water splashing all over them. Harry sat in fear of the two others brushing up against him, scowling at the head of the ginger kid in front of him.

"Did you hear that we have to battle to choose our house? My brothers told me. I'm Ron" The kid said as he turned around, eyes wide in both wonder and fear.

Harry knew this was absolute bullshit, how would they expect students who barely knew how to hold a quill to battle each other? It wasn't reasonable. The boy assumed this kids' brothers were teasing him. Dudley often tried to lie to him, however rarely succeeded. "No we don't." And rolled his eyes.

"How do you know that?" Ron scowled at him, "Do you have siblings in Hogwarts?" He said in an accusatory tone. Harry shook his head and Ron turned back to the front, no longer interested in the conversation. Thank God.

–

He glanced at the doors, waiting for the first years. His back was straight and his face was blank, Severus was awaiting the appearance of the child, the boy who lived. Seconds later, Minerva opened the grand wooden doors with a load of young, short children following her, trotting along.

Faces upon faces passed through the entrance, excited and anxious alike, however he failed to spot a child resembling Lily or Potter. Ah, there was the Weasley child, bright orange hair almost blinding. He had an aura of arrogance that rivaled Draco Malfoy. Speaking of which, the kid had also entered the hall, his blank facade was broken as awe struck him.

Only once the majority of the crowd had passed, did Severus spot a child with black hair and wire framed glasses that resembled James Potter. He trailed near the back of the line, looking around and ensuring he was a safe distance from others. His scowl was quite amusing, though quite surprising for the professor. Neither Potter nor Lily wore such a dour expression in their school days, even when James and his crew had spotted Snape himself. What on earth had caused that expression? Severus was sure he would know in due time.

–

Sure, it was grand, Harry thought. There were tables filled with older students seated at their respective houses. The boy certainly wished he was seated with the other students, this whole entrance drew attention to the group and subsequently himself and the whole ordeal was stressful. The teachers were sitting at a long table at the front, lengthways this time.

"Come, first years. Line up!" The lady, who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall, guided them towards the front. On a stool sat a manky old hat, no explanations as to why, though Harry assumed the hat had something to do with their sorting. His theory was proved correct as the hat began to sing, and they started being called up to the front.

The first girl sat on the stool hesitantly, and the hat was placed upon her head. After around twenty seconds, the talking hat yelled "HUFFLEPUFF!" and the elder students clapped. The girl, Hannah, was guided towards her respective table and welcomed with open arms.

Harry knew a little about the houses, but had no preference. It wasn't like he had any control over the decision, so it was no use stressing over. The wait was boring, the kid could wait at the back of the line without worrying about others, since they all wanted to get closer to the front.

Eventually, after his excruciating wait, Harry was called up to the front. "Harry Potter!" And the room went silent. Eyes raked through the large group, trying to determine which of the students were the boy who lived. Harry knew a little bit of his fame, having been exposed to the wizarding community whilst shopping for his itinerary prior.

Harry stood tall, and began to walk to the stage. There were a few shocked looks, and Ron looked slightly green once he realized who he was, but he blocked them out. The boy dragged his smaller frame onto the stage and threw himself down onto the stool, awaiting the hat. It was placed on his small head, falling down over his forehead and over his eyes.

The voice in his head was slightly unsettling, it wasn't every day that a dusty old hat controlled his internal monologue. "Harry Potter eh? Quite the mature soul you've got there. Now where to put you…" the voice sounded contemplative.

–

The greasy haired professor watched in interest as the boy walked calmly to the seat. Despite the ogling of others, Potter looked calm (yet still frowned furiously.)

Dumbledore stared at Harry with interest, likely furious that he could not hear the conversation between the boy and the hat. If there was a way he could get Intel, the old coot most definitely would.

He would probably be sorted into Gryffindor, no he definitely would. With parents who were both in the ghastly house, it was almost certain.

–

"Not Gryffindor…" The hat muttered quietly, it seemed to be having its own internal monologue, but Harry just hoped it would think a bit quicker as he began to get impatient. "Rushing me will do you no good, young man." He received in response. If the hat had eyes it would have seen him roll his eyes.

Harry swung his legs, impatiently waiting. It spoke monotonously about a few of the houses before finally coming to a decision.

The hall quietened when the hat perked up ready to speak. "RAVENCLAW!" It yelled, all that was left was the stunned faces of the professors, and the hanging jaws of the students. Harry walked towards the Ravenclaw table in silence.