Note on Time: Based on the assumption that Voldemort was first defeated Halloween, 1981, and the first HP book began in 1991.

The Welcoming Feast was the first time Severus sat with the rest of the faculty at the Staff Table in the the Great Hall. He supposed he should have joined them there for lunch or breakfast, if only to accustom himself to the feeling of wrongness before he became a display for the student body. He wasn't suposed to sit here. His place was two-thirds down the Slytherin table. Where a group of second years was currently sitting.

He sneered in vaguely their direction. He found it mildly entertaining that no one who could remember him dared take his spot, even three years after he was gone. His gaze already on their table, he noted an increasing number of looks and fingers pointing in his direction among the Slytherins, spreading out from students he still mentally recognized fourth years, though by now, they had reached their seventh year. Fourth years. Merlin, three years seemed a much larger gap when he had been a seventh year himself. With luck, it still looked big to them.

Severus didn't much believe in luck anymore.

Feeling desperate, but not letting any of it into his expression, he coolly regarded the other staff. Beside him, Professor Wallsby, the Head of Slytherin House, scowled alternately at his empty plate and the students in general. His former Head hadn't said more than two words to him since he arrived, which Severus took as a good sign. He might have reservations, but if he'd had serious doubts, he'd have said something.

On Wallsby's other side was Professor McGonagall's empty chair. Despite her irritating habit of laughing whenever he addressed her, she seemed to have accepted him for the most. But then, she had served as Dumbledore's Deputy Headmistress since Severus's third year. No doubt she was used to the Headmaster's quirks. The appointment of a twenty-year-old professor was just one more in a long line of oddities, thus making it normal. Of course, she didn't know he was also a Death Eater, which would surely shake even her faith in the Headmaster's choice.

Blimey, the age thing alone had him almost more terrified of being a teacher than he was of being a Death Eater traitor.

He dismissed that line of thought as counter-productive, and looked beyond the Gryffindor Head's chair to Dumbledore himself. The old man was looking in his direction. When he caught Severus's gaze, he nodded and smiled encouragingly. The friendly gesture was returned with a glower. Curse the man for thinking Severus was nervous. Even if he was right. Severus looked away, in time to see Professor McGonagall lead the first years into the Great Hall.

They looked tiny. Nine years was still a huge age difference as far as Severus was concerned. Those students, he had no difficulty with labeling as 'children'. He easily considered himself 'old' by comparison. For them, he could be Professor Snape, and not just Severus.

The Sorting went by without incident. He clapped for the new Slytherins, sneered faintly at the new Gryffindors, and ignored the new Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Flitwick gave him a hard look at this blatant favoritism, but he ignored it. It was all well and good for Ravenclaws to profess objectivity, but Slytherins didn't work that way.

Dumbledore introduced him as the new Potions professor once the first years had all been sorted out. The older Slytherins lead the cheer, which made the other three Houses regard him with distrust. Either that or their older students spread rumours of their own.

Time passed as it is wont to do, and eventually the meal came to an end, and the students left the hall. Severus leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. He had felt like he was on display for the entire time. Every time he had happened to glance toward the long student tables, he'd found at least a half a dozen people staring at him. It made his stomach queasy and he'd been half afraid to eat for fear of bringing it back up. He had spent the entire time pushing his vegtables around his plate, pretending to eat, and sipping very slowly at his pumpkin juice.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. That alone identified his visitor. "Can I quit yet, Headmaster?"

The old wizard chuckled, as if he thought Severus was joking. "Give your nerves a week to settle down."

"Even if I do nothing but brew in my rooms, I'll need that long."

The hand squeezed reassuringly. At least, Severus assumed that was the Headmaster's intention. He didn't feel at all reassured by it. "I'm sure you'll do fine, Severus." The hand went away, and so did the presence behind him.

He lifted his head and looked around again. Most of the teachers had already left, though McGonagall stood by the door as if waiting for someone. As he passed her, she fell into step beside him. "The first week's the worst," she told him, though if she meant it as reassurance, she failed even worse than Dumbledore had.

"Since I have yet to survive my first week, that does not make me feel any better. The first dinner was hard enough and all I had to do was eat."

"Which you did not do very well, from what I saw." She smiled. Again, a failed attempt to reassure. These people should just give it up. They weren't any good at it. "You get used to being watched, and it'll lessen for you soon enough. You're new, and very young for a professor. The students are bound to be curious initially."

September 8, 1979

He found quickly that a sharp tongue and liberal use of point deductions and detentions kept even the seventh years in line. By the end of the first week, he felt almost confident in his new role. At least, in regards to the students. The other teachers were another matter entirely. He stood outside the faculty lounge and took a moment to compose himself before pushing the door open and stepping into his second staff meeting.

Ever the early arrivals, McGonagall and Flitwick were both already there. He nodded to each of them, avoiding calling them by either name or title. As an act of self-defense, he had found this to be the ideal solution to addressing his collegues. If McGonagall laughed herself to death, Dumbledore might have turned him in for killing his deputy headmistress.

Soon enough, the remaining professors arrived, and Dumbledore called the meeting to order. Sprout soon made official complaint about her students' reports of blatant favoritism in the potions classroom.

Severus sneered. "Can I help it if Hufflepuffs are all dunderheads?"

This, needless to say, did not endear himself to any of his collegues, and he was soundly ignored for the rest of the staff meeting, and indeed, much of the next week. Which was just as well, because a Death Eater meeting the next night had put him in an especially sour mood, making even Dumbledore steer clear of him once his report was tendered.