When the stuttering imbecile burst into the Great Hall and disturbed the Halloween frivolities, Severus Snape was secretly rather pleased.

He abhorred such celebrations, especially when they ate into his weekend and forced him to spend even more time with the brats he taught than usual.

 “TROLL!!! IN THE DUNGEONS!!!” Quirrell cried, hysterical. “TROLL IN THE DUNGEONS!!!”

Dumbledore stood up and for a moment nobody else moved – the hall was as silent as it had ever been.

 “T-thought you ought to know…” Quirrell mumbled, as he dropped to the floor.

Brilliant. A DADA teacher who was afraid of a troll.

The hall erupted into chaos, with students screaming and running here and there, panicked.

 “SILENCE!!!!!!!” Dumbledore bellowed.

As the headmaster began to provide calming instructions to the prefects, a nasty thought occurred to Severus Snape. Surely the troll was a diversion? Let in by somebody who planned to attempt to steal the most protected item in the history of Hogwarts: The Philosopher’s Stone.

As the other teachers began to organise their houses, he slipped out of one of the side doors – ready to face the thief, whosoever it might be.

OOOOOOO

Severus spent some time waiting on the third floor corridor, hidden from view as he lay in wait. He even went inside the locked room, to check that the trapdoor was not disturbed – that did not end too well, and he left with a large chunk of flesh missing from his lower leg.

Eventually, satisfied that whoever it was had been thrown off by the commotion in the Great Hall, the potions master left his post and made his way back towards the dungeons, wondering whether the headmaster and his colleagues had yet succeeded in dealing with their guest.

He stopped when a flustered-looking Percy Weasley barrelled past him.

 “Mr Weasley, while Gryffindors are renowned for lacking in brain cells, I would have thought that even you could point yourself in the correct direction for your own common room,” he said smoothly, gesturing back in the opposite direction.

 “I’m missing three firsties,” Percy panted, stopping to catch his breath. “Professor McGonagall is going to kill me. Never mind her! My mum will probably do it first!”  

 “Am I to deduce from your panic-filled monologue that one of those missing is the youngest Weasley boy?” Snape asked.

The boy nodded, and Snape resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

And then it occurred to him – if Weasley was missing, that meant Potter would be too. But where…?

 “Shame Hermione’s going to miss it but apparently she’s been in the toilets all day because Ron was doing impressions of her after Transfiguration…”

“Back to your common room, Mr Weasley. Leave those little dunderheads to me,” Snape called over his shoulder, heading in the direction of the girl’s bathroom.

As he neared the end of the long stone corridor, the professor could hear the commotion coming from the bathroom. He reached the end just in time to join the Gryffindor head of house and the DADA professor as they flew through the door.

McGonagall let out a gasp, stopping in her tracks. Severus flew past her before he managed to stop, taking in the scene in front of him: one very knocked-out troll, and three very small first year students.

 “Oh my goodness!” the witch cried. “Explain yourselves, both of you!”

And that was when it happened.

The Potter whelp ran at him.

For a moment, Severus Snape wondered if he was about to be attacked by the spawn of his childhood enemy. He was on the brink of drawing out his wand when–

The brat crashed against his torso, and Snape felt two skinny arms around his midriff.

He blinked.

The child was clinging to him. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked – him, or the boy’s head of house.

The Granger girl was babbling now, taking the blame for the whole sorry affair.

Whilst the others were distracted, Professor Snape stole a glance down at the little twerp, who was still stuck to him. Harry looked back, his huge, green eyes full of fear.

It occurred to Severus in that moment that less than two months ago, the child didn’t even know he was a wizard, and thus he could see why an encounter with a fully grown mountain troll might be cause for concern.

His first thoughts were to unpeel the boy from him and give him a hard shove into the corridor. But somehow the interfering old tabby distracted him, awarding points to the pair for their idiocy, and his arm came to rest on Harry’s shoulder instead.

The troll made a grunting noise and the boy flinched, burrowing further against the potions master.

 “The three of you, back to your dormitories at once!” McGonagall was telling them. “Mr Potter, kindly unstick yourself from Professor Snape, as this includes you. Quirinus, I’ll leave you to deal with our visitor if it’s all the same.”

The DADA professor nodded, omitting a nervous chuckle as the witch ushered Ron and Hermione out into the corridor.

 “Desist at once, Potter. You are quite alright,” Severus said, managing to pry the boy off him and giving him a gentle push to go after his friends.

 “No more detours! We’ll discuss this further in the morning!” McGonagall called after the three first years as they scurried off in the direction of the Gryffindor common room.

Once they had gone, she turned to look at him, questioningly.

 “It would seem you have a fan,” she said, stiffly. “What on earth was that about, Severus?”

 “Perhaps the boy simply confused me with somebody else, Minerva,” he said silkily, pulling his black cloak around him before he stalked away.

She watched him go, raising a brow.

 “Perhaps,” she murmured. “Perhaps not…”

OOOOOOO