As I walk past the dorms heading back to my rooms, I see three of my Slytherins standing outside of the common room. I immediately know whom they are all waiting for. It has been a good day since I have told Harry about his new sorting. He still is refusing to come out of his dorm. However, the Headmaster has informed me earlier this morning that Harry is going to be in the dungeons before breakfast. I am not holding my breath, though. Harry and I have had too toxic of a relationship thus far. It is going to take some time, which I understand and am fully prepared to face.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you care to explain why you three are loitering out in the hallway before dawn?" I drawl slowly. I immediately raise an eyebrow when the young Slytherin's grey eyes widen in surprise. I may show favoritism towards my students, but they know better than to expect me to show it when we are alone.

"Well, Professor Snape," Draco begins to say before he quickly glances towards Crabbe and Goyle. "We're the official Slytherin Welcoming Committee."

"I was not aware we needed one, Mr. Malfoy." I then take a step towards the blond Slytherin before throwing a piercing glare at his two lackeys. The two instantly catch my meaning and run back into the Common Room. "You will inform all of your little friends that if I find a scratch on Potter, I will find the instigator and he or she will feel my wrath. Is that understood, Draco?" I whisper deadly. He quickly nods his head. "In fact, since you have mentioned the need of this 'welcoming committee', I nominate you and your friends as his bodyguards. Do you know what that means, Draco?"

"No, sir," the second-year Slytherin responds quietly.

"It means, Draco, that you are responsible for Potter's safety, so if someone disobeys my orders, you too will experience his or her punishment." I then lean closer to Draco. "I would hate to have to inform your father of how you protected the Boy-Who-Lived seeing as what your father does." My dark eyes then flash sinisterly. "Now do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Draco replies fearfully.

"Excellent, but know that if you ever lie to me like that again, I have the power to make your life a living hell, Draco. After all, I am your godfather, am I not?" He nods slowly. "However," I say softly. I watch his eyes light up in anticipation. "As you saw last year, I can be surprisingly lenient when it comes to you, Draco, which you know the reason."

"You do not wish me to grow up like my father," Draco quietly whispers.

"No. I do not, Draco. Treat Potter as you would a brother, and we will have no issues this year."

"Sir, I—is it—is it true then? Is he really the heir?"

"I do not see how that is any of our concern, Draco." I then level my stare on the boy. He shifts his feet nervously. "Unless you know something that I do not."

"No, sir, it's just, well, I was just wondering why Potter's in our house now."

"He is in our House because the Headmaster deems it necessary. Does that answer all of your questions or must I remain to be a crystal ball for you?"

"No, sir, I understand. Thank you."

I watch the young Slytherin slowly enter the common room again. Something in me rises up. It is perhaps nothing but indigestion, but others would believe otherwise. After all, I have long since suffered hearing that it is my paternal side from that infuriating witch whose head is so far up in the stars that she has nearly thrown herself off her tower once or twice. I am not joking either. She has nearly thrown herself off her tower before. How she still has a job here is beyond all comprehension. Then again, this is Hogwarts, School of Witch castoffs and Wizard failures. All one needs to do is just look at the staff. We have a Divination professor who can't predict anything, an Astronomy professor who nearly kill herself on a daily basis because she's staring at the stars, and a Charms professor who squeaks at everything. We also have a History of Magic professor who is dead and still is boring, an overly emotional Herbology professor, a Transfiguration professor who should be declawed, and do not even get me started on our latest winner to the island of misfits. There are some days here where I would consider Azkaban paradise in comparison to this place. However, I digress. I cast a quick Tempus. Ten more minutes before he's here. You will have a home here, Harry. I promise.