Chapter Text
Albus Dumbledore steepled his fingers and looked out across the Great Hall. The first years were just walking in as usual, stumbling over the hems of their robes. Of course, this was still a special year. As Professor McGonagall began calling out names to be sorted, his eyes fixed on a small black-haired boy. To his disdain, he was shuffling alongside the young Malfoy offspring, instead of Weasley or Granger. Ah, well, he thought, this can easily be remedied. Of course the blond would be sorted into Slytherin, Harry would take this as a betrayal, and any budding friendship would be easily destroyed.
Albus did not pay attention during the Sorting, only perking up a little when Malfoy's name was called. As expected, he was sorted into Slytherin, but strangely little Harry clapped while the green table cheered. Albus was a bit taken aback at this; hadn’t he ingrained enough good old Gryffindor bias into the boy? Perhaps he was just clapping to be polite.
The M’s, N’s, and O’s passed quickly with the expectation of what was to come. A great hush fell over the hall as McGonagall called “Harry Potter!”
The boy walked silently up to the stool and sat down as Professor McGonagall placed the hat over his head. It covered his face, and looked rather silly in Albus’ opinion. He could see the hat's mouth moving, and he leaned forward, a secretive smile on his face.
The boy would go into Gryffindor, of course. Albus had ensured that when he cast the Confundus Charm on the hat. Annoyingly enough, it had tried to break free from the spell, but he had managed well enough in the end.
The hat was taking longer than he had expected. Of course he couldn’t hear the blasted thing, so he had no idea what was going on. He really needed to change the way they sorted the students.
Every pure-blood in Britain would have his head if he dared to do something like that.
He tried to cover his yawn. This was taking an eternity. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the Sorting Hat opened up it’s brim and yelled out for the whole Great Hall to hear-
-
Severus Snape was very rarely surprised. He had come to terms with the fact that life tended to throw random things at one's face, and that one must simply be ready for anything.
He wasn’t ready for the events of the coming day. Not ready at all.
The morning was bright - the sun was shining, birds were chirping, and always well with the world. At least, until a certain headmaster of Hogwarts decided to make a firecall.
“Severus, my boy, how are you this fine morning?”
“Well enough, headmaster. Now, tell me why I have been deemed worthy enough to be graced with your presence?”
“Whatever do you mean by that?”
“Nothing. Why did you call me?”
“I require you to go to a Muggle residence and give a student their letter.”
“I am not a delivery boy able to be herded to Muggleborn homes to give a Powerpoint presentation on the wizarding world, Professor.”
“Ah, but my boy, this is a special case. You see, this home belongs to someone who I believe you will be most anxious to meet.”
“And who might that be, Professor.”
“I believe that it is the home of one Harry Potter.”
The floor seemed to drop out from under him, and his eyes widened in shock. It was only his Slytherin pure-blood training that kept his jaw from dropping to the floor. Chiding himself internally, he composed his features. “And why should I be the one to go?”
Albus’ head smiled that fake, cheery old man smile. “My boy, I am sure you have waited for this moment. I know how you wanted to see Lily’s child.”
Severus tsked. “James’ child.”
“Severus, that’s enough.” Albus’ tone was stern. “I will not take no for an answer.”
He sighed. “I suppose, if I have no choice…”
Albus’ face shifted from stern to joyous in less than a second. “Ah, good! Well, my boy, get on your way! Magical education cannot wait!”
-
Well, Severus thought bleakly, walking down Privet Drive, this is awful. In fact, this was the most awful neighborhood he had ever seen. It wasn’t a run down, per se, but every house was so similar that Severus was getting a headache. The only distinguishing feature that separated one gray house from another were the numbers decreasing the further he walked. 16, 15, 14…
When he came upon number 4, he paused for a moment, and gave it a curt once-over. Its outward appearance was, as he had expected, exactly the same as those around it. Its lawn was manicured perfectly, and its bushes were groomed to perfection. He walked up the stone path, and rang the doorbell. There was a shuffling inside, and the door was pulled open.
A young man stood before Severus: a typical blond jock the main character in trashy Muggle movies would have a crush on. “Hello?”
“Hello, I am here to see one Harry Potter.”
The man frowned. “No one by that name lives here.”
Severus groaned internally. “I apologize, is this the Dursley residence?”
“I believe those were the people I bought this house from,” the man replied. “I spoke with them, and I believe that they moved somewhere into the country.”
The country? That didn’t sound like the Petunia he knew. “Would you happen to know their new address?”
The man shook his head. “Unfortunately no, I can give you the real estate place, but I doubt they’ll tell you where it is, privacy reasons and all that.”
Severus called Albus several colorful words in various languages internally. “Right,” he muttered through gritted teeth. He then turned and, without a background glance, walked away from the house. He would have to take this up with the headmaster as soon as possible. There was no reason for their student records to be out of date. How did this happen anyway?
-
At a small house in the countryside, a young boy looked up from the canvas, overcome with the sudden feeling that he was being watched. He stood up, walked over to the window, opened it, and looked outside. A wisp of silver escaped around the edge of the house mere moments before he could catch sight of it. Satisfied, the boy turned back to the canvas. He had work to do.