Harry Potter was very excited, as he waited outside the Great Hall doors for the Sorting Ceremony to begin.

This was to be is first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and he wanted everything to go right.

All his life…the last ten years of it, anyway…he’d been told he was a freak and worthless by his aunt, uncle, and cousin.

This was his chance to prove the stupid Muggles wrong…and he planned on doing just that.

He couldn’t believe it when Hagrid, the Hogwarts’ Groundskeeper, had told him he was a wizard, but obviously it was true.

So, that proved he wasn’t a freak…not when there were many, many others that could do the exact same things he could.

"I’m so nervous, ‘Arry," Ron Weasley, the red headed boy he’d befriended on the Hogwarts Express, told him.

Harry smiled at him. Ron was the first real friend he could remember having…

"You’ll be fine," Harry assured his new friend. "I’m the one who should be worried. What if I don’t get Sorted at all?"

"Everybody gets Sorted, ‘Arry," Ron told him, smiling. "Its which House you’ll be in that you gotta watch out for. Remember what I told you…you know…about them?"

Harry nodded. He did remember.

Slytherin was supposed to be a House that had produced more Dark witches and wizards than any other.

It was the house he had been in.

The evil bastard of a wizard who’d crept into his parents house ten years before and murdered his parents.

He’d tried to kill him, too, but somehow…and nobody was sure how…he’d survived—and the evil wizard was vanquished as a result.

At least, that was what Hagrid had told him.

That was why he famous in the Wizarding World and was known as The-Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry snorted, sighing.At the moment I’d rather be The-Boy-Who-Doesn’t-Get-Into-Slytherin, he thought to himself.

Just then, the large doors of the Great Hall opened and Professor McGonagall stepped out once more.

"Form a single file line, please," she instructed them, and they did so. "Now, follow me."

On cue, the line of First Years followed the stern Deputy Headmistress/Transfiguration Professor/Head of Gryffindor House into the Great Hall.

Harry, and nearly everybody else, gasped at the sight that greeted them. The Hall was huge!

Four long tables sat, stretching end to end of it, and upon the walls were the four manners that held the House crests upon them.

"I’ve read all about it in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione Granger, the girl with the mousy brown hair who’d repaired his glasses on the train, whispered just behind Harry and Ron. "The red-n-gold Lion is for Gryffindor. The silver-n-green Serpent is for Slytherin. The blue-n-bronze Eagle is Ravenclaw. And the black-n-gold Badger is for Hufflepuff."

On a tiered platform, at the very front of the hall, was yet another long table.

This one, however, was for the Hogwarts’ professors and staff.

"Blimey, ‘Arry, Fred and George tried to tell me," Ron said, glancing up at the ceiling, "but I thought they were just foolin’ with me. Look!"

Harry glanced up and smiled at the sight of the night sky and stars twinkling over head.

"It’s enchanted to match the night sky," Hermione whispered again. "Oh, look! I think I see the constellation Delphinus!"

Ron snorted, leaning in to whisper in Harry’s ear. "Girls, huh mate?" he said, sarcastically.

Harry smiled, but didn’t reply. He was too busy being focused on what was happening in front of him.

Professor McGonagall stood on the platform directly in front of the teacher’s table.

Sitting beside her was a stool, with a very old and much worn looking conical hat sitting on it.

"When you’re name is called," she instructed the First Years, "come up here, sit down, and put on the Hat—it will then Sort you into the House you belong in."

Then, the Hat began to sing—a very long, long song about each House.

Once it was through, the Sorting began.

One by one, their names were called and each student put on the Sorting Hat.

It would take a moment, but then shout out the students’ House.

When it was Harry’s turn, there was quite a stir among those watching.

Even the teachers seemed eager to see which House the Boy-Who-Lived would be in.

Two teachers, Harry noticed, watched him intently.

One was Professor Dumbledore, the school’s Headmaster, but the other…

The other was a tall, lean man with very pale skin. He had long, shoulder-length black hair and jet black eyes.

For just a moment, as he stepped up to the stool, Harry’s eyes met his and there was almost a…recognition…somehow.

The man’s black eyes widened for just the briefest of a moment, but then a scowl formed upon his face—making him appear stern and menacing.

Harry turned around to sit on the stool, and was very glad.

That professor’s stare was very intimidating, for some reason.

The Hat was placed on his head and he shut his eyes—waiting for the verdict.

Why? Harry thought with a frown. Why am I difficult?

Not Slytherin, Harry thought desperately. Anywhere but Slytherin!

: Not Slytherin, eh? : The Hat chuckled. : Well, then, it had better be…:

"GRYFFINDOR!" This last part was spoken, more like shouted, out loud.

Harry opened his eyes at the sound of thunderous applause, and saw that the members of the Gryffindor table were clapping and cheering like there was no tomorrow.

Getting up off the stool, a large smile on his face, he went to sit beside Hermione and Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, both of whom had also been sorted into Gryffindor.

The Sorting continued. Ron was sorted into Gryffindor, along with all of his brothers. Harry was glad.

Now he and his best mate could room together, too.

Draco Malfoy, the arrogant boy he'd met in the robe shop, was sorted into Slytherin.

"Go figure," Ron snorted to him. "Malfoys family is as bad as they get."

Harry nodded, but could have cared less about the spoiled brat at the moment.

Glancing up at the teacher table again, he saw Professor Dumbledore smile at him and give him a wink before he stood up to make his speech.

Almost automatically, Harry glancing to the man’s right—at the dark clad professor who’d been staring at him earlier.

Once again, there eyes met—green and black—and Harry saw something within that dark gaze that puzzled him.

Was it…pain? But...why?

Just then, however, Dumbledore made his welcome back speech and warned them about going to the Third Floor, as well as the Forbidden Forest.

After that, the food arrived and everything else was forgotten as Harry began to dig into the most delicious—and filling—meal he had ever had.

Still, Professor Snape—for that was who Percy Weasley had said the dark clad man was—staring at him puzzled him.

It was as if…he knew him, somehow. But that was silly.

Wasn’t it?

Deciding to stop worrying about it and simply enjoy himself, Harry Potter began eating.

HPHPHPHPHP

Severus Snape had known this day was coming.

He had tried to prepare himself for it, but even though he had, those eyes…those wretched green eyes!

The emerald green eyes of a small eleven-year-old boy with unruly dark hair and glasses with a lightening bolt scar upon his forehead, still managed to shatter his carefully calculated facade.

The boy had seen it, he was sure, even though he didn’t know what it meant.

Get a grip, Snape, he told himself furiously. He’s just a boy!

But even as he thought it, the Potions professor knew it was a lie.

Harry Potter wasn’t just any boy—and not because he was the stupid Boy-Who-Lived.

Severus snorted at the ridiculous title.

The Baby-Who-Lived more like, as the child had only been a year old at the time, and at what cost?

Nobody had stopped to care about the price that was paid, had they?

No one except him, of course.

No, Harry Potter was no ordinary boy because he was her boy—her son—and those green eyes only cemented the fact.

Severus gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the stab of pain in his heart—a heart he had thought he’d let grow cold.

But the moment he saw the boy, he knew that too was lie.

His heart could not grow cold as long as he still could love and he did still love her. How could he not?

And he also cared for her son, though he did not wish to.

As the Welcoming Feast ended, and the students began to pile out, one Harry James Potter turned back slightly, their gazes meeting for a third time.

Yes, Mr. Potter? Severus couldn’t help but think. Something I can do for you?

The boy frowned, but then turned back around and followed the rest of the student body out of the Hall.

Severus heaved a huge sigh of relief.

Unfortunately, he would be staring into those emerald orbs for the next nine months.

He had to find away to distance himself emotionally, otherwise he might lose his reputation as the ‘scariest, meanest git’.

And that, simply, would not do.

Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry Potter, Severus thought with a sigh.

It should prove to be an interesting year…for us both.

SSSSSSSS

In a private room, paid for by a mysterious benefactor, at St. Mungos Magical Maladies a red-haired woman lay in what appeared to be an enchanted slumber.

Not able to waken her, the staff had simply done there best to care for her—in the hopes that one day she’d awaken on her own.

Fed nutrient potions intravenously, her arms and legs exercised daily to keep them in shape, she only ever had one visitor—a dark haired man in a black suit and tie.

Upon her nightstand, he always left the same thing…

A single, perfect, lily.