Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine. Drat. Snape isn't mine. Double drat. They belong to JK Rowling and WB, etc…
Author's Note: Sorry I haven't written much Snape stuff lately. I've been busy doing essay work. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic. This is based on the idea on JK's site in which she was thinking up alternatives to the sorting hat ritual. One of them was this… I haven't written from Albus' perspective before, so I apologise if he seems OOC.
Summary: Albus Dumbledore is famed for good ideas. However, this may be the one that brings about his downfall. Having no Sorting Hat to speak of, he has to resort to another to conduct the sorting: Snape. Will Hogwarts admit anyone at all?
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Sorting Snape
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Albus gazed serenely at The Gryffindor Head, Minerva McGonagall, and as he offered her a lemon drop the old woman shook her head. Shrugging his shoulders sadly, the even more old headmaster walked over to the side and gazed out of his office window. So, it had finally come to this…
He then walked back over to Minerva, his eyes falling on the smouldering Phoenix as it stood on its perch.
Stroking Fawkes's head, Albus sighed.
"I fear for the students, Minerva. He is not the most agreeable of men."
"So I've noticed. I presume you've asked him of this, then?"
"Well, I did so last night. He seemed eager to participate, and I heard him mutter something about how I had finally had wisdom to see his true astuteness. Not that I've failed to notice his brilliance before."
Minerva then searchingly looked at him, her lips pursed, and Albus found himself feeling quietly torn between optimism and faith in his Slytherin Head and the desire to stop the process right now. But that would not be fair to the man.
Does not everyone deserve a second chance?
The door suddenly slammed open, bouncing off its hinges and a sour-faced man with a hooked nose and greasy black hair strode into the room. As always, Severus seemed to arrive with a black cloud hanging over his head. It was part of the man's charm, Albus supposed. Severus was a clever and astute individual, but he tended to let his temper and house loyalties get the better of him.
"Headmaster, have you seen what we shall have to put up with down there?" Severus asked him, disgustedly. "Are you truly ready to undertake the task of sorting the weeds from the flowers? There appears to be quite a few reeds that need uprooting this year, from what I've seen."
Minerva gazed at the Potions Master.
"Severus! Children are children. They are still learning right from wrong and would do well to have a respectable adult looking after their welfare. Children are children, after all." She gazed calmly at her rival Head of House and Albus could hear Severus chuckling quietly, as if a child was addressing him.
Yet, he knew Severus respected Minerva. He allowed this friendly banter; it at least got the stoic talking.
"When I was that age, I knew right from wrong. My father made sure of that. Little brats like that have no excuse. Their lives are far too easy with all these new magical toys. It's as if they have never seen that big blue ocean called the sky before. Idiots," Severus replied. Albus understood perfectly well the meaning behind the Potion Master's words.
"You were a child once, Severus," Minerva countered.
Albus saw Severus smirk to himself.
"Minerva, I like to think that like the basilisk, I was fully formed when I emerged from an egg. There's no safer place than in a cocoon away from these pesky little maggots we call children. Plus I have no doubt that I would have eaten the little Gryffindor bleeders if I were a basilisk."
Minerva was about to reply, when Albus raised his hand and called for silence.
"Let us go down and see to the students. Severus, if you would accompany me?"
"Of course, Headmaster."
He left the office ahead of his old student, yet he never felt tense when in Severus' company. Of course, he was wise enough to keep his wits when around the young wizard. Severus was someone you did not want to cross. He took after him, in those respects. They walked down to the council room together. No doubt, Severus would leave his own stamp on the proceedings.
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"You are useless. No, you're worse than useless. At least useless people are useful once dead. Come back when you don't chew gum, have grown by several feet and know how to spell in more ways than just phonetically. Or do you want to spell it out for you? Get lost. I don't want you in this school."
Severus glared reproachfully at the young boy, and the boy's lower lip started to wobble as the lips of his mouth curled upwards. Pointing towards the door, the Potions Master smiled nastily as he jabbed his finger at the group before him.
"You're rejected… and you, and you and you and you. Get out of my sight!"
He then waited like a snake coiled to strike until the next group of students turned up.
"You, you and you! Out!"
Albus Dumbledore merely sighed and waited until the end of the sorting so he could talk to his zealous teacher. The two men found themselves looking down at Hogwarts from the Headmaster's office, and Albus sighed.
"You know, Severus. We need children if we want a school…"